Dora sat up. “Where are we?”
“A park campsite. We’ll stay here overnight. Wait here, I’ll make sure it’s safe.”
“Hurry.”
Dirk took his machetes and walked toward the small herd. Elk meat, his favorite. Their scent made him salivate. He flared his nostrils. The elk responded, recognizing him as a predator, and fled in a sudden stampede. The thrill of the chase tickled his need to shift. His inner wolf already stalked an older stag, and he left the pasture before being tempted to hunt. His first priority was to protect Dora.
He walked into a forested area set up with campsites and several abandoned tents. Might as well crash inside an already set up tent. He stroked the negligee he’d stuffed inside his leather inner pocket. He wanted to surprise her and watch her flush. He found a large four-man tent and entered. The sleeping bags with a pair of kid’s flip-flops next to a smaller one left out on the floor. A family. Two cell phones and a wallet loaded with cash lay on a small camp table. They left in a damn hurry. Animals had gotten into ditched foods and the place was littered with bits of plastic bags, and pots and pans. Human residual scent led to the mixed woodland forest.
His hackles rose. He’d missed the stench due to the direction of the wind. Zombies. Dora. He ran back to the vehicle. Three zombies shuffled around their SUV. One still wore his forest ranger uniform. Good, at least she was locked in and kept quiet. He waved a machete. “Over here!”
They stopped and with a long-winded moan slowly moved toward him. He met them half way with his drawn machetes, decapitated two at once and then dispatched the third, a former park ranger. “I’m home, honey.” He opened the passenger door. Gone. Where was she? “Dora!” He caught her scent. Had she opened the door and been grabbed? Panic punched his gut. He sniffed and caught her scent toward a huge boulder near a babbling creek.
****
What was taking him so long? Dora expected Dirk to return in just a few minutes, but after ten minutes, she could no longer hold her bursting bladder. She dashed out to relieve herself behind a nearby boulder surrounded by aromatic Ponderosa pine trees. She pulled up and zippered her jeans.
Better.
She turned to return to the SUV but froze in raw terror. In the gloaming gray light, shambling shapes took form. They sniffed and barked hungry moans toward her.
Zombies, twenty or more, stood between her and their vehicle. Under her breath she muttered, “Zombies in my sight, I must take flight.” Nothing. Why? Was it her gnawing fear that without a ceiling to stop her, she’d continue floating until the lack of oxygen caused her to lose consciousness and plummet to the earth? She backed away and took out her gun.
Three older teen boys dressed in Boy Scout uniforms shambled forward, stopped and snarled. Others wearing hiking boots and outdoor clothing shuffled behind them. One man with the left side of his face bitten off moaned the loudest. Soon the entire swarm moaned, and lifting their long nailed hands, they reached for her. The boy scouts burst into a limping jog as if anxious to earn a zombie merit badge.
“Dirk!” Her hands shaky, she pulled the trigger and the shot struck one of the boy scouts in his shoulder. He fell flat on his back then scooped himself up and continued forward. Her aim sucked and she’d no time to focus on flight. She returned her gun to its holster and ran toward a distant lake. One thing she learned from Lab Zero: zombies could drown.
****
Dirk dashed in the direction of her gunfire. He caught sight of her. Good. She raced away. But between them, swarming zombies lumbered after her. “Hey puss faces!”
A few turned, sniffed, but then continued in her direction. He could shift but that would take time. How long could Dora run with that cut on her knee still healing? He remained human and dashed at breakneck werewolf speed. In less than a minute, he ran ahead of the swarm who shambled forward in no hurry, just rabid determination. Falling farther behind, he wondered if they would stop their pursuit. He caught movement up ahead. Dora. Damn. She dashed toward the lake, but in the dark, she didn’t see two zombies shuffling in front of her. “Dora! Look out!”
Out of the shadows, a third big one grabbed her arm. Rather than pulling away, she grabbed his rotting thumb, snapped it back and broke it. The zombie lost his grip and she shot him point blank between the eyes.
Dirk reached her as the shot zombie fell. “Stand back!”
Dora leapt away and hid behind a tree as he decapitated the other two zombies. He turned. She leaned against a tree and gasped for breath. Unable to contain his fury, he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Why the hell did you leave the truck?”
She panted, her breasts heaving, enticing him to steady them but he was too angry at her to act on his wolfish desire. She tried to wiggle away but to no avail, she stopped struggling and glared. “I had to take a leak.”
“You could have relieved yourself in the car!”
“I’m housebroken.”
Her response struck him. He forgot his rage and laughed. “Most humans are. Do you think werewolves aren’t?”
She met his eyes. “As matter of fact, no. I think you enjoy marking your territory.”
“And why didn’t you just fly up a tree?”
“First of all, I tried my rhyme and it didn’t work. Just as well since, I’m not sure if I could stop flying above the tree line. Besides, I had to try out my new running shoes.” She puckered her lips making him lose his mind.
He drew her in and ravished her shapely lips. Probing her sweet mouth with his hungry possessive tongue. She fought but only briefly before kissing him back with the fiery passion of a she-wolf. His inner wolf snapped,
Mine!
He was lost in lustful need for this woman, who unleashed every emotion in him. Rage, amusement, protectiveness, possessiveness, lust, and of all the worst possible luck, more. The need to take her as a mate overpowered him. Was this love? She fulfilled every sense in him. Her rich aroma, sweet voice, taste and visually the hottest body that drove him to the edge. He relaxed his hold and she gripped his shoulders and continued kissing.
She entered his mind and he allowed it.
“Oh, Dirk. Are we doing the right thing?”
“No, what we’re doing is completely wrong. I just don’t give a damn.”
He let go of her mouth and brushed his lips against her soft throat.
“Mine!”
She poked him with a hard finger
. “Dirk, they’re getting closer.”
Dirk licked the spot, ready to mark her as his, when he suddenly came to his senses. They were not alone. The stench burned his nostrils, alerting him to the zombies’ barking moans as they honed in on them.
Dirk lifted her and threw her over his shoulder, firefighter style. “Time to get the hell out of here.” He ran past the zombies who vocalized stuttering moans and stumbled on one another as they turned to follow. At the zombie snail pace their pursuit became futile. He slowed, stopped and cocked his head to the side. “Crap!”
“What’s wrong?” The blast of a shotgun, some loud whoops and the sound of a roaring motor said it all. “Our truck!”
Slapping a hand on her ass, he sighed and ran, arriving to see their vehicle flanked by three men on dirt bikes leaving. Too fast, even with his werewolf speed. They were left with nothing but dust and zombies at a leisurely walk, heading their way. He set her down. “Well, Doc, it looks like we’re screwed.”
She sheepishly shrugged. “Oops.”
Chapter 10
Dora crawled out of her sleeping bag where she’d slept in the abandoned tent, alone. At least the former camper had left a good quality air mattress. She’d wrapped a pillow about her ears to drown out the hungry zombie moans and booming werewolf growls. How had she ever fallen asleep, while outside the safety of her tent, a monstrous beast battled a zombie swarm? She glanced at her watch. Ten thirty a.m. Guilt tore at her heart. Dirk had not blamed her for the loss of their vehicle, at least not overtly. She shivered as she remembered the craziest evening of her life, and she’d had a shit-load of those lately.
“Get inside the tent and stay put or else...” He growled long and hard.
She didn’t want to know what he meant by “or else” and obeyed, but out of regret rather than his domineering bark and vague threat. Moving the flap, she peeked out. “Can you fight them all?”
He stripped and snarled at her. His face contorted and fangs erupted from his gums. She scooted inside and zippered the tent door. Snap, crackle, pop louder than any breakfast cereal in the moonlight.
This is why I never went into orthopedics.
He howled and transformed into his werewolf form. Under the dim waning moon, the silhouette of his hairy arms and lethal claws scared the shit out of her. The shadow of his massive wolf head turned toward her, snarled and then roared at the incoming zombies.
Better he took out his frustration on the undead and not her. She should have stayed in the car. Would that have been safer? In this nightmarish world, men killed for a fueled vehicle. God knows what they would have done to her. Rape, death, or worse, zombie bait?
She slipped into her jeans and put on her shoes, kicking the machetes away. How could he chop heads off without a care? She eyed the sugar-cane cutting weapons.
Damn it Jim, I’m a doctor, not a zombie hunter.
Speaking of which, was Dirk okay? She opened the flap. He lay sprawled on his back, fully clothed on a picnic table. He appeared unharmed. The killed zombies were piled next to three barbecue pits. They looked like anatomy class rejects.
She hated waking him. Even werewolves needed sleep. No more leaving the premises, without letting him know. Not if she wanted to beat the 27 Club curse. Last night she’d come too close to validating the prophecy. Not all was lost. They might find a vehicle in the parking lot or near the road. The problem was finding a car with enough gas to get to the next truck stop. Good thing she found a good pair of running shoes. Light, but good support. Tested last night, running from zombies. Her stomach gurgled. Great. When would they eat next?
She stepped out and stood over Dirk’s massive frame. Last night’s kiss left her confused and out of sorts. He was a werewolf, she was human, a relationship would be wrong. He’d agreed. It was terribly wrong. Yet he was the most attractive man she’d ever met, hell he was hotter than the top ten most handsome actors and bare-chested models seen on romance book covers. Every bit the alpha, strong, protective and probably a wolfish womanizer. She smirked. Not her type. Certainly, he would not choose her as a mate. Although his sister had married a human, her husband had been an exception to the rule. She bit her lower lip. Their passionate kiss left her wanting more. Her nipples tingled from the memory.
She hated to do this, but it was time she used her “witchy” telepathy to find out more. How safe was it? He wouldn’t be happy if he woke and found out. Maybe he wouldn’t sense her entering his mind while he slept.
Dirk’s lips twitched, reminding her of a dog in REM sleep. She focused. His mind was like a fast-forwarding video. Zombies, blood, Lab Zero, the hunt, elk meat and yes, the kiss. Passion. Guilt. Why? She concentrated and honed in on what bothered him, expecting to find he was using her to satisfy his sexual needs. Not that she would mind being the reason for his distress. She just wanted to guard her herself against heartbreak if that’s all it was. She focused. No. He planned on taking her directly to his pack and forget Josh and Mel. In his mind, he thought they were already dead and as a medical doctor, she’d be useful to his pack. Anger washed over her and she clenched her fists at her side. She trusted him! Before she broke away from his mind, a final thought flashed strong and adamant.
Dora is mine!
Not yours, not if you lie to me.
She cleared her throat and he woke, opening one eye and squinted against the mid-morning sunlight.
He sat on the table, stretched his arms out, and raked his red hair back. “Ready for breakfast, babe?”
Too hungry to argue about his dishonesty, Dora shrugged her shoulders and jibed, “Yeah, how about scrambled eggs and flapjacks?” Should she confront him about what she found out? How? He would know she broke his trust about reading his mind without permission. But he’d betrayed her. He had no intention of rescuing her brother and niece. After they ate, she’d deal with him. She’d need her strength when they split ways. She to find Josh and Mel. He to re-join his pack.
He stood and pointed his chin toward a tree. A bag hung from a rope, perhaps to keep away from bears. Had the campers been eaten or turned? “Can’t promise eggs and flapjacks.” He walked beneath it and leapt like a star basketball player, cutting the rope with his claws.
She quickly rummaged inside the bag. There were moldy sandwiches but other edibles appeared decent. Uncooked pasta, rye crackers, cans of kippers, very old cheese and… Her mood lightened. “Graham cracker cookies, marshmallows and chocolate. We can make S ‘mores!” She zoomed in on instant coffee and lifted it. “Yes!” She frowned. “No water and no fire, we’ll have to wait.”
“Hmm. Let’s see if we can find a camp stove, and matches. That water pump might work.”
“That’s okay, let’s eat what we can. I’ll wait and have my brew in
California
,” she said. “Who knows, we may run across other survivors.” If he didn’t want to help her find Josh, maybe she could hitch a ride with others.
“I wouldn’t get any hopes up about that. Look what happened last night.”
Whom could she trust? She threw her hands up. “I can’t believe they stole our stuff and didn’t bother trying to save us.”
“That, babe, is the new law of the land. To each his own.” He drew her to him. “At least they didn’t grab you.”
“So, you don’t blame me?” How could he lie to her and then act as if he cared?
Dirk fingered away a loose hair from her brow and lifted her chin. “We’ll get a better vehicle and supplies, don’t you worry.”