Lost in the Apocalypse (4 page)

“What are you doing?” She managed to ask quietly through the kiss, but she didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want any of it to stop. It had been a long time since Emily Starken had felt alive, but she felt alive now, pressed against this tree by this stranger. Even when she had actively dated, trying to find someone to share her life with, kissing had never felt like this. Not ever. She had been doing something wrong, she realized. Either that, or everyone else had.

“Kissing you,” he said, stopping to smirk at her. “I should have thought that much was obvious. Were you raised in a barn or something?” His dark eyes flashed with a hint of amusement as he stared at her curvy body. The apocalypse hadn’t emaciated her, but she was much thinner than she used to be.

The moment gone, she slapped him and stood up, glaring down at him. Her own gun was a few feet away with her backpack, and she didn’t dare look at it. She knew that if she did, he’d grab it quickly, then she’d not only be without her house, but she wouldn’t have her weapon, either.

“What are you doing at my house?” She asked him, frowning. “Are those your friends over there? Can you make them leave?” She tried to keep her voice even, level. She tried to act like she hadn’t just been making out with this stranger like a horny teenager.

He cocked his head as he looked at her, the way a dog might look as it observed a kitten for the first time. The man didn’t seem afraid of her or angry with her. He didn’t look particularly excited about her, either. He just seemed interested, curious. That was good, Emily thought. At least this way, he might not kill her. If she kept him curious, he might keep her alive.

“I could make them leave,” he said, after a moment. She let out a sign of relief when he said it, and he smiled. “But I won’t,” his voice a deep whisper. He stared at her intensely, waiting to see what her reaction would be.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She asked. “You can just move in and take my house. That’s illegal.” The man only laughed.

“Yeah, that’s rich,” he said. “It’s a little late to quote the law at me, sweetheart. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s not exactly a working legal system anymore.”

Emily frowned, feeling more frustrated than she’d ever felt in her life. This guy wasn’t going to back down. He wasn’t going to leave. He was going to sit here, staring at her, pushing her buttons, until
she
left. She could tell.

Well, that wasn’t okay with her. Not now, not in the zombie apocalypse, and not ever. She headed for her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. Then she picked up her gun and tucked it into her jeans and started walking toward the house. He trailed closely behind her, not saying a word. She didn’t know what he was thinking and she didn’t really care. She was tired, she’d been walking for days, and she wanted to sleep in her own bed, dammit.

When Emily got close, the men and woman standing around her house stopped talking and turned to her. The men raised their weapons, but the man behind Emily motioned for them to put the guns away.

“It’s okay, boys,” he called out. “She’s harmless.”

“Fuck you!” Emily said to him, turning to glower at him again. This only jeered him on more, and he laughed as she marched past his friends, pushed her way past the woman, and went into the cabin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The woman asked.

Emily ignored her and darted inside. She looked suspiciously around the room. Her couch was in the same spot against the left wall. Her tiny living room was now full of backpacks and guns, but seemed to be generally unharmed. The bathroom and two bedrooms were straight ahead, at the back of the cabin, and she would get to those shortly. To her right, her kitchen was just as clean and empty as it had been since she left, although the twin barstools had been moved to the living room. Obviously, someone had been having a pow-wow in there and needed more seating options.

She heard arguing coming from outside, but ignored it. Emily hurried to the back of her cabin and peeked in the bedrooms. The bed in each room had been slept in and there were backpacks and clothes on the floors, but she didn’t care. Her laptop was still there, unharmed, and her notebooks were still on the shelf.

She may have lost her sister, but at least her stories were okay. She realized with just how shitty that really was, but it was the truth. She had nothing else to live for but her writing. Even that would never be read by anyone.

Part of her wondered whether it was even worth it to write anymore. Probably not.

Emily went back to the living room. The voices were louder now and more determined. The woman was screeching that she couldn’t believe someone called Neil had just let Emily come inside. Neil must have been the one kissing her.

She grabbed one of the guns from the living room and, after making sure it was loaded, headed outside. If these guys thought they could just barge in and take her house, they had another thing coming. She lifted the gun and took a deep breath at the door. She was a strong, independent woman and she could defend her property. Yeah, the gun was a bit pathetic and her hands were shaking a little, but she could do this.

In reality, they would probably kill her or capture her and rape her, but she had to try. She wouldn’t sit idly by and let these criminals take over her house. This was her place. She had worked her ass off to lead the life she did.

Yes, her little garden was a bit weedy and pathetic. She’d spent more time penning her latest romance novel than she had weeding. Sometimes when she got caught up in characterization or development, she forgot to do the little things. Like garden.

Still, Emily’s place was nice. It was home. It was her haven.

She hopped out the door and frowned. The group had been talking, but they suddenly went silent. Five set of eyes turned and stared at her, unblinking. Emily heard a cricket chirp.

She raised her gun and pointed it at the man who had kissed her.

“Get. Out.” She held her hand steady, trying not to shake. She had never killed a person in cold blood before, but they didn’t have to know that. These were trespassers, and state law said she could shoot them. Granted, there wasn’t much of a government anymore and these folks probably didn’t know anything about local laws, but still.

She had every right to get them off her land. They needed to leave and they needed to leave
now
.

“Get off my land,” she repeated. This time her voice audibly wavered, and she felt a pang of disgust shoot through her. What was wrong with her? She had just killed her sister and her sister’s best friend and she actually felt bad for threatening this guy?

The five people just stared at her. Finally, the big guy with the scar started laughing. His chuckle filled the quiet air and soon everyone was joining him.

Everyone that is, but Emily.

“Hey! I’m serious,” she said as harshly as she could. Why were they laughing? She could be a badass. They didn’t know. She had killed two would-be Infected and plenty of actual Infected and the last thing she needed was their crap. Not today. Not on her watch.

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t kill him if your life depended on it,” the kid with the green hair said. He must have been 19, maybe 20. “You have a heart of gold and we all know it.”

“Save yourself some trouble, doll,” the scarred man stepped forward and held out his hand. “Give me the gun and we’ll forget this whole thing happened. You can stay in your side of the house and we’ll all leave you alone.”

“Fuck you,” Emily spat. She turned, positioning her body so she was aiming at Scar now. Unfortunately, that meant she was momentarily distracted and no longer paying attention to Neil or the woman. The woman took advantage of the opportunity and kicked her in the leg, which caused Emily to lose her balance. She tripped and Scar quickly took the gun from her and tossed it aside.

“Are you ready to calm down?” He asked when Emily glared at him. She hadn’t been this pissed off since Stephanie Kline went out with the boy she liked in the 7
th
grade. Stephanie
knew
Emily had a huge crush on him, but dated him anyway. This was just as bad. Maybe worse. Definitely worse.

Instead of answering, Emily frowned harder, wrinkling her forehead. She might not be able to fight off this group of assholes, but she could make their stay horribly unpleasant.

“As I was saying,” Neil started speaking again and everyone turned away. He was obviously the leader of the group. Scar stopped staring at Emily and turned back to Neil. Or, as Emily would secretly refer to him, probably-looked-better-with-less-hair-gel. Seriously, who had time to gel their hair in the apocalypse? She hadn’t showered in weeks, much less found time to do her hair.

Yet here she was, standing in front of a group of fucking models. It just figured that was her luck.

“We need to figure out where we’re going to hole up. I give it an hour, maybe two, before this thing really hits us.”

A few people murmured things, but Emily was trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“What are you talking about?” She asked. She had never been good at being anything but blunt.

“Haven’t you looked at the sky?” The other woman asked her. “Seriously, honey, take a look.”

Emily glanced up. Green and yellow. Storm colors. She had been so distraught worrying about getting home that she hadn’t paid attention to the weather.

“Do you have a storm cellar?” Neil asked, but she just shook her head. Zombies and now a tornado. She was really out of luck.

“Hey princess,” Green Hair said, snapping his fingers in front of her face. She looked up, but before she could come up with a nasty retort, his face softened. “We need to find a place to seek shelter before the storm comes. I know your house is your beloved darling or some shit, but we need a real, legit place to stay. Do any of your neighbors have a basement?”

They didn’t. None that she knew of, anyway.

Billionaire Boy didn’t have a house on his property and though Emily had explored the forests extensively, she’d never noticed an abandoned storm shelter or anything like that. Old Man Peterson up the road had a crawl space, but she didn’t think that would actually do anyone any good.

Then she remembered.

“Um, yeah,” she said. “There’s a house about two miles that way,” she pointed in the opposite direction of town. South. It was off the highway, but only barely, and she wasn’t sure it would still be safe. If hitchhikers or vagrants had wanted to take a house after the apocalypse, it was very visible from the road, but it had a basement.

“Basement?” The woman asked, gently prodding Emily for more information.

“Yeah,” she gulped, realizing she was about to abandon her home with these weirdoes. She didn’t have much choice thanks to the storm, but the decision still hurt. “It’s got a full basement. Probably even still has some beer in it,” she looked to Scar and he nodded.

“Grab what you need,” Neil said to the group. “We leave in five. Oh and princess,” Emily turned back, knowing he was unfortunately talking to her. “No more funny business. I’d hate to have to leave you behind.”

She huffed and stalked back into the house, barely resisting the urge to slam the door. The rest of the group came in behind her and began stuffing things in their bags. She ignored them and walked to her room. She grabbed a clean duffel bag from the closet and placed it on the bed. In went a clean change of clothes, a notebook, a couple of pens, and a picture of her family. She didn’t need much.

She had lost everything important to her.

Emily carried her duffel bag outside and tossed it in the back of the truck. Then she went back inside and scrounged around the kitchen, looking for food.

“We grabbed it all,” the female said to her. Then she smiled and said, “I’m Kari.” Emily took a minute to look at the woman. She wasn’t being mean. If anything, she seemed to be almost apologetic. It was a surprise coming from the stranger. After all, they were living in the apocalypse. Were people really kind anymore?

The few survivors Emily had met on her journey had been incredibly hostile. No one wanted to help anyone else. Everyone knew there were few resources left, so you had to hoard what you could when you could get it.

Even an introduction was unusual.

“Emily,” she finally managed to say, and Kari smiled.

“Nice to meet you,” Kari said. “Sorry about the introduction, though. Probably not the way you wanted to make new friends.”

Emily just shrugged and headed back to the truck. She climbed into the bed where Scar and Green Hair were also sitting on their bags. She decided that even though this sucked, she might as well be nice. She’d already pissed them off. She didn’t need to be an unforgivable bitch.

“I’m Emily,” she said to them.

“Cody,” said Green Hair.

“Robert,” said Scar. They all nodded at each other semi-politely. Robert gripped a rifle in his arms. After a minute, Kari joined them in the back of the truck.

“Hey Butter,” she yelled, and the tall biker-looking guy came out of the cabin.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget the booze,” she winked. Butter rolled his eyes and went back inside, then came back with a bottle of vodka. What was left of it, anyway. It looked like someone had punished it pretty hard.