Page 5 of Flesh (Flesh 1)

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He could have sworn the thing had a mind of its own.

“Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me.”

Which, he had to admit, was fair enough. Maybe enough boundaries had been messed with on their first day together.

“Sure, sorry. Didn’t even realize I was … Yeah, never mind.” He moved the hand back to his leg and let his fingers fidget on safer ground. They wouldn’t stop moving, a sure sign of nerves.

“So. Life outside,” he began. A sore subject, to be sure, but he had to sell it. “You realize situated on the edge of the city is a bad place to be? Inner city is thick with infected, but further out here in the ‘burbs you’re going to cross paths with other survivors.”

“Oh, you think?”

“Be nice,” he said. “Now, I’m guessing the people left over are going to be a mix of the lucky, like you and me, and the odd bastard handy with a weapon and happy to do what they need to get by. I’m guessing by now food and water are getting scarce for you. You can’t stay hidden, can you? Not if you don’t want to starve. You also know it’s too dangerous to go out on your own.”

“I’ve done okay.”

“You need someone to watch your back. Can’t do that on your own.”

She tucked in her chin and said nothing.

“I’m not saying you didn’t do good getting in here and staying put through the whole meltdown, but it’s time to move on, Ali. I was thinking of heading south-west, find a nice rural area and set myself up, be self-sufficient.” He would be self-sufficient alright, him and his hand, if she shot him down. More important things were at play here, though, because eventually, she would mess up and be dinner for the hungry horde. The thought made his heart kick over painfully. The infected were growing restless as pickings grew slim, branching out from the thick of the cities.

Soon enough, her little corner of suburbia would be overrun, if her own lack of food and water hadn’t since made her flee.

“I’ll grow my own fruit and vegetables, use solar panels for power. I was a mechanic, so I’ve got a good basic knowledge of al sorts of things. Sky’s the limit.” Daniel nodded, pleased with the sound of it. Plausible, warm and friendly.

Please God, he had to have won her over.

Instead she sighed. And it was long, drawn out and mighty f**king irritated. When women sighed like that it never boded well for anyone involved. “We discussed this.”

“Huh?” He propped himself up on an elbow, bewildered. “No, we didn’t.”

“Fingers.” Ali jerked her chin at the hand currently stroking her thigh, toying with the inner seam of her jeans, generally making itself right at home.

“Sorry … my bad.” He jerked his hand up, then paused. Amongst the dirt and dry stains on her jeans, something caught his attention.

Dread slammed through him. The damage sat directly above her knee, and it was fresh. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not.” Daniel clenched his teeth and ignored the sick feeling building in his belly. “How did you get it?” When she hesitated a second too long he lost his cool completely, something rumbled in his throat and his voice rose to al new heights. “Now, Ali.

Tell me now. How did you get it?”

“I didn’t get it from one of them, okay? It was a nail or something going under the fence. I’m not infected. Stop yel ing at me,” she growled straight back at him, her gaze fierce. “Asshole. Get off me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank f**k for that. I’m sorry, but I had to know.” The minute he lifted his leg up off her, she tried to scurry away, scrambling backward on hands, butt and feet, crab style. The grip he had on her pants didn’t let her get far. “Take them off. That needs seeing to.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Don’t give me that. You want me to lecture you on how easily infection sets in? How fast?” He scowled, clinging to the raggedy hem of her jeans as if she was his safety blanket. Her gaze flicked to her feet and his followed. One solid kick from those boots of hers and he would be in a world of pain. Important, given how clearly unhappy she appeared to be. “Please … I mean.”

The melting-glass glare and the jut of her chin relented, somewhat. Good enough.

“Anyway, you need a bath.”

Her neck and face flushed, as the muscles around her mouth moved. The play of colors beneath her dirty skin fascinated him.

“Can you get out of my face for one minute?”

“Sorry, sorry. Though wouldn’t you feel better cleaned up? Then we can see to that scratch.” Daniel gave her his most trustworthy face, hooking a finger in a hole above the hem of her pants leg in case of failure. “Maybe some new clothes, too? What do you say?”

She sniffed disdainfully. “I wasn’t sure if they hunted by scent, or … it was a safety precaution. Messing around with hair and make-up didn’t seem wise, given the circumstances.”

“I don’t think they track by scent. Mostly they seem to rely on sight and sound. And, sorry again, but as emergencies rate, you having a bath is definitely one.”

Her brows reached for the sky. “You are such an ass.”

“But an honest one. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“No. Not really.” Gray eyes inspected the worn flooring with great care. Far more than it deserved. “Alright, but I’l deal with my own hygiene issues.”

“I appreciate your willingness to cooperate. In that same spirit, you need to know that I’m sticking to you like glue. Where you go, I go.” She opened her mouth to refute, but he got there first. “Nothing dubious, I promise. I’ll turn my back, won’t even peek. You can trust me.”

“The house is locked up. I don’t you need you watching my every move.”

He shoved his free hand into the space between them, palm up and empty. “Ali, nothing is certain these days. Nothing. Consider it a necessary safety precaution because this can’t work any other way. We need to stick together. I’m sorry, but shyness isn’t a good enough reason for your premature death.”

His girl frowned, stopped, frowned some more. Finally, she delivered one short nod of assent. “Okay.”

“Seriously?”

Her chin moved in the desired direction, but she didn’t meet his eyes. Not even a little.


Tags: Kylie Scott Flesh Horror