12. Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Shelby
As dusk passes into complete darkness, we find places to sleep, and I roll over on the stiff couch in a small room off the hallway with a sigh.
My ribs hurt. Now that I’m not functioning on adrenaline, the aches and pains have surfaced.
Instead of worrying about Cason, I should have been dealing with my own issues. It’s a reminder to focus on me but once again, years of sacrificing my own needs has superseded everything else.
Down the hall, I hear the faint murmur of voices. Zoey and Amanda retreated upstairs and sensing Amanda’s unease, we all stayed below by silent agreement.
My stomach sank when I came in here to rest, and I found the dress hanging by the door. Still adorned with pins and tape, the sequins sparkle by the light of the moon. Amanda’s prom dress, perhaps?
Turning away from the specter, I try to close my eyes. Nora volunteered to take the first watch while Cason presumably dealt with his injuries. I don’t know where Nate landed and Larry and the teenage boy, Lance, are sleeping on the floor in the living room with the dogs.
Eventually I drift off only to rouse when I hear something creak above me. I know the girls are upstairs, but I still sit up, glancing at the ceiling.
After a moment, nothing happens though, and I lay back down only to open my eyes when I hear the noise again.
Are they awake? Maybe someone had to use the restroom? Still, when the hair on my nape stands on end, I decide I can’t ignore it.
In the hall, I pause at the bottom of the steps and look into the darkened living room. Nothing stirs beyond Bo, who lifts his head and gazes at me before plopping back down to the floor.
I wonder where Nora is before slowly ascending the stairs. It’s equally dark at the top but for the moonlight shining from the bedroom windows and when I reach the landing, I inch around the banister.
The door closest to me is open and I glance inside as I pass. I don’t see the girls and presume they’re sleeping in one of the rooms beyond.
Tiptoeing closer, I stumble to a stop when I come upon a shadowy figure standing in front of one of the doors. I don’t see the girls. They’re not in imminent danger but here I am, caught without a weapon again.
However, I pause when I hear shuffling beyond the door, and this is when I realize who it is and whisper, “Nate?”
This is what saves him because when he turns to me, the thing previously trapped in the room, stumbles past him, hits the banister with pinwheeling arms before falling over.
It happens so quickly I’m still holding out my arm when another thing emerges from the room, zeroing in on Nate. The previous thing must hit the wall before slamming into the stairs and I wince when it creates sound we don’t need.
“Unh,” Nate grunts as I take in the man’s robe and slippers, my heart sinking. These are the missing parents I wondered about earlier.
While Nate struggles, I stand frozen. I don’t know why but some part of me doesn’t want to be the one who kills the girls’ dreams. Of course, as soon as I think it, the door at the end of the hall swings open and Amanda appears with Zoey behind her, her thumb in her mouth, an action I suspect resurfaced in the last few horrifying days.
From down below, I hear a scuffle breaking out, but I can’t focus on my fellow survivors because I’m pretty sure they can handle one undead thing flailing on the stairs.
“Stop,” Amanda shouts, and I rush forward. The man, or thing pushes into Nate with a single-minded intensity, his mouth open in anticipation of a new meal.
When Nate turns his head, I shove against the undead man’s shoulder, hoping I can return him safely to the room before shutting the door.
It’s a small mercy but I can’t stand the thought of looking into Zoey’s eyes after bludgeoning her father to death, even if he’s technically already gone.
Amanda races forward as I bury my shoulder in the thing while Nate pushes his hand against its face, keeping the deadly jaws clear of his skin.
Desperation leaks from my pores as I slide against the wood floor, but this thing has something I can’t compete with—an unending supply of energy.
“Fuck,” Nate says when his hands slip. Too close for comfort, I watch with horror when the thing dives for his neck.
At the last second, Nate slides away and I sag under the weight of it as the thing turns to me with rabid intensity.
He’s a handsome man or was but for the ravenous need shining in his eyes and the deadly snarl painting his lips. He shares Zoey’s deep blue eyes and the cleft in his chin probably drew a lot of admiration from the ladies.
I’m quite sure I whimper as I duck below his chomping teeth before using the railing behind me to push the fucker toward the room.
“Give it to me,” Nate hisses but I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Fucker,” Amanda cries just as I manage to get the thing beyond the threshold.
Unfortunately, he has a firm hold on my shirt and rather than worry about modesty, I duck and pull it over my head.
Finally free, I step back and grab the knob but before I can close the door, Nate steps past me, now clutching Amanda’s baseball bat.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing his shoulder but he shrugs me off while Amanda follows him through the door with Zoey on her heels. When she looks up at me with wide stricken eyes, I shout, “Nate! Stop!”
Meanwhile Amanda grabs for his arm. I don’t know if he meant to be so rough, but when he shrugs her off, Amanda stumbles back, falls to her ass and slams her head against the wall.
This must be what snaps me out of my daze but what takes its place is nothing but pure rage. How dare he put his hands on her?
Nate gets in one good whack to the thing's body before I jump on his back and grab the bat out of his hand.
Thankfully, the thing falls to the floor because Nate is determined to keep the fucking weapon and grabs the base before tugging.
“What are you doing?” he growls.
“Give me the fucking bat,” I shriek. With a final tug, I claim possession of the bat once more, but the momentum causes Nate to stumble back, and we slam against the wall.
Distantly, I hear Zoey’s cry as pain crawls up my nerves ending at my constricted lungs. Since I cushioned the bastard, he’s perfectly fine and I proceed to fall to the floor after Nate shakes me off.
Now on my knees, I watch as he raises the bat over his head only to bow my head because I don’t want to be a part of this cruelty. Except instead of the sounds of bludgeoning I expect to hear, a loud boom fills the space.
When I look up, my ears ringing, I find Amanda standing in the door holding a shotgun. Although she shot her own father in the head, the evidence of which now paints the floor around him, she’s now aiming the weapon at Nate.
“I was just defending myself,” Nate says, the bat dropping to the floor when Cason appears at the threshold.
Cason
My head hurts like a motherfucker but beyond that I’m carrying a heavy dose of hostility on my shoulders. It’s unfair, I know it is, but I can’t help the resentment burning my sternum and unfortunately, Shelby’s taking the brunt of it.
When that fucking car came out of nowhere and slammed into the van, I hit my head so hard, I blacked out. Call it a dream or delusion, I don’t care because Rosanne stood before me with her gorgeous smile and those sparkling dark eyes.
It’s been so long since she looked at me that way, I froze, taking it in. This was the woman I married, and I miss the ferocity with which she used to want me. I know time changes people, but I stupidly thought nothing could break the bond we shared.
When she slid her hand into mine, warmth enveloped my icy fingers, and I looked down to our clasped hands. When was the last time we touched like this?
“I’m sorry,” I said through a throat thick with regret. Where did we go wrong?
“Baby–” That's all I heard before I was pulled back to reality.
Although Shelby’s fear shoved me from the abyss and she ultimately saved my life, my chest burned for just a few more minutes with my wife.
The brutal reminder of what is now gone, still circles my aching chest later, after everyone is down for the night, and I lay on the couch staring at the ceiling.
Rosanne and I, we were already on the path to destruction. I know now more than ever that it was inevitable.
Unfortunately, I think my anger stems from my mysterious need to protect Shelby. Is it because of the bruises she can’t hide or something more? Fuck, I don’t know but I can’t get bogged down in useless emotion.
Maybe it’s better just to leave, even if we are safer as a group. Technically most of these people wouldn’t know survival if it hit them in the face.
During times like these though, it’s more about the will to live than anything else and only time will tell if my burgeoning group can be included in that desire.
Either way, I know I can’t leave them to their own devices. I’ll just avoid Shelby, and it’ll be fine.
Resolved, I close my eyes and try to sleep, all of which gets derailed when a pounding starts up by the stairs.
When I look over the couch, I find Nora standing at the bottom while Larry hops up, followed by Lance and Bo with Bean scrabbling across the hard wood floor to keep up.
“Shit,” Larry mutters and I approach the group now crowded around the undead thing flailing on the steps.
I know Amanda and Zoey retreated upstairs. So . . .
“Where’s Nate and Shelby?” I ask.
Nora glances down a darkened hall and I step in that direction, my stomach clenching when I hear a scuffle above. With the girls in danger, I focus on the imminent threat, but I look back down the hall with regret.
So much for ignoring Shelby. Dick. It can’t be good if both her and Nate are missing.
Unfortunately, the former woman, now undead, managed to twist between the rails when she, I assume, fell. I can’t even begin to imagine how that happened and shrugging it off, I push past Nora barking, “Knife.”
After she hands it to me, I nod over my shoulder and say, “Check the windows.”
Nora and Lance back away while I silently pray that nothing outside these walls heard the racket, but we can’t be too careful.
When Larry’s heavy breaths coat my already sweaty neck, I glance back at him with a frown. Grinning sheepishly, he shrugs and steps back while from above, someone grunts, feet shuffle across the floor and one of the girls’ cries, “Stop!”
Shit.
Stepping up the stairs, I pause before the undead whose eyes circle in the sockets, while she bites at the air. Her legs are caught in the rungs of the banister while one of her arms waves above her. I assume the other is trapped beneath her body, but I can’t tell from this angle.
Other than the bite mark on her cheek, she looks relatively normal if you don’t count the gray pallor to her skin and her hair-raising moans.
I eye her hand, swinging around, her long nails painted bright red. I don’t know exactly how the illness transmits but I have to assume scratches are a risk until proven otherwise.
Since she's on the stairs, I’m in an awkward position but I’ll have to make do and I grab the banister to gain leverage before kicking out at her waving arm.
Of course, she’s flailing around so much, I barely graze her before trying again but when another cry rings out above, I swear and grab her flailing wrist before sinking the knife in her right eye.
Goo spills over my fingers and I pray to a god I’m not sure I believe in anymore that I don’t have any open cuts or wounds.
When I pull out the knife, it makes a weird squelching sound and I mentally groan, as I step over the finally dead woman and race up the stairs. At the top, I find Zoey standing in the door of a room down the hall but I freeze when a loud boom rings out.
What the fuck?
With my heart in my throat, I step past Zoey when she moves out of the way.
My eyes fall to the dead thing on the floor before moving to Nate who’s standing over Shelby. She raises her gaze, and I assess her missing shirt before taking in the undead fucker lying on the floor with a hole through his head once more.
While Amanda sniffles behind me, Nate says, “I was just defending myself.”
“Against who?” I growl, curling my fingers into my palms.
“Crazy bitches,” he mumbles, hanging his head and I take one step forward before Shelby pushes to her feet.
“Fuck you,” she snaps. In nothing but a bra, it’s easy to see the bruising I caught a glimpse of before and I suck in a breath before averting my gaze.
The last time I saw the marks marring her skin, it was in a tiny bathroom while she looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes.
Although she’s no longer cowering, it still feels like a violation to gaze upon them considering how she practically curled into her body with shame before. She deserves better and at the thought, the bitter burn of rage presses at my chest.
Thankfully, Zoey catches my attention when she steps back, her pretty face scrunched, and I shake out of my daze. However, whatever happened up here will have to wait because Larry calls from down below, “We got a problem.”
Of course. Fuck.
With a silent sigh, I stalk to the railing and meet Larry’s gaze as he says, “Incoming. Too many to count. We gotta go.”
“Dammit,” I mutter, glancing behind me where Shelby’s standing with her arms crossed.
When she steps away from Nate and raises her vibrant blue eyes to mine, my stomach clenches before I turn away. What happened to her shirt?
For whatever reason, this woman who survived hell before she ever got here, creates an emotion within me that I can’t control and I don’t fucking like it.
However, Nate has some explaining to do and it better be convincing because he’s on his last legs with me. I’ll leave him cowering in the dirt if I have to.
“Cason?” Larry calls and I shake my head before backing out of the room.
The others seem to be frozen which only ratchets my suspicions, and I turn my gaze to Nate and say, “Let’s roll.”