’Til the World Ends (10 page)

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Authors: Karen Duvall Ann Aguirre Julie Kagawa

BOOK: ’Til the World Ends
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“Kylie?”

I jumped, spinning around at the deep voice. A shimmering blob of color hovered in front of my vision, and I had to blink several times before I could see who it was.

“Geez, Ben. Sneak much?”

“Sorry.” He joined me at the railing. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed some air.” I rubbed my arms and nodded to the darkening sky, trying not to shiver. “Sun’s gone down, Ben.”

“I know.”

“Your father isn’t back yet.”

“I know.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking uncomfortable, as if there was something he didn’t want to tell me. I was afraid I already knew what it was.

“You’re going after them, aren’t you?”

Ben nodded. “I figured we’d give them until sunset to make it back,” he said, glancing at the fading orange glow on the horizon where the sun had been. “But we can’t leave them out there now, even though it’ll be full dark when we make it to town. We have to go look for them.”

“You know I’m coming with you.”

“Kylie—”

“Don’t you dare give me any crap about this, Ben Archer.” I glared at him. “I am a doctor, and it’s my duty to help people. What if someone is injured, or bleeding? I am not going to sit here and wash dishes while you go off to face these things alone. So save your ‘I am a manly man’ speech, because you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

He looked torn between amusement and exasperation. “I know that,” he snapped, matching my glare with his own. “I wasn’t going to tell you to stay here. I already told Donald and Chris that you’ll be coming with us. That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh,” I said, faintly embarrassed. “Well...what were you going to say, then?”

For some reason, this seemed to fluster him more, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, wincing. “Christ, this is going badly. Kylie...I know we’ve just met, and everything has gone crazy, and I probably shouldn’t even be thinking of this right now, but...” He looked down, swallowed, then met my eyes. “I want to know what your plans are...with me.”

“You?”

“I’m staying, Kylie.” Turning away, he gazed over the fields, resting both hands on the railing. “I want to build a life here, if I can,” he murmured. “No more running, or fighting with my past. I’m done. Dad can rake me over the coals all he wants, but I’m staying here. This is where I belong.”

I was glad to hear it. Family seemed important to Ben, even if certain members made life difficult for everyone. But despite the tension and occasional argument, this was a strong community, and I was glad that he had found his place, that he was finally home.

“Except,” Ben continued, facing me again, “I don’t know what your plans are. You once said you didn’t know if you could settle down. And I wouldn’t force you to do anything, but...you could have a place here, if you wanted it. With me.”

“What do you mean?”

My heart pounded. This sounded very much like a proposal without the words. I didn’t know what to say or think. Ben wanted to build a life together...but was it only because he recognized the need to keep the family strong? We’d only known each other a short time, barely more than a week. What did Ben really want from me? And what did
I
really want, from him?

Ben moved closer, sliding his hands up my arms. “Kylie, I...”

A shot rang out in the darkness.

We jerked, all senses rigidly alert, listening as the echo of the gunshot faded away. Ben’s hands were clenched on my arms, squeezing painfully, but I barely noticed.

More shots, several this time, rapid, frantic. Ben released me, ran into the house and emerged seconds later with the shotgun. My heart clenched as he leaped off the porch, sprinting down the driveway. After a second’s deliberation, I followed.

“Kylie, go back to the house!” he growled, sparing a glance over his shoulder. I ignored him, and he spun, grabbing my arm again, his face tense.

“Don’t!” I snapped before he could say anything. “I’m coming with you, so don’t waste time telling me I’m not.”

His eyes darkened, but then the shots came again, closer this time, followed by a scream of anguish. Ben gave me one last angry look and sprinted down the driveway again, me trailing doggedly behind.

We neared the road, and I gasped. Samson and Ben’s uncle Jack were staggering up the driveway, weapons drawn, gasping for breath. Samson was covered in blood, though he didn’t look injured, and Jack’s face was so pale it almost glowed in the twilight. As Ben jogged toward them, I looked around, hoping to see their final member limping frantically up the driveway, but he was nowhere in sight.

“What happened?” Ben demanded, taking Jack’s weight as the big man stumbled and nearly fell. “You were supposed to be back hours ago. Where’s Shane?”

Samson’s eyes were huge, scary orbs in his bloody face. His beard and hair were streaked with crimson as he pointed down the road.

“Truck broke down a few miles from town,” he panted, shaking with gasps as Ben grabbed his arm. “We had to abandon the supplies...try to make it back on foot. They were everywhere, came right out of the fucking ground. Shane...didn’t make it.” His face crumpled with anger and grief, before he shook himself free. “Hurry, I think they’re right behind us.”

“Samson, you’re hurt,” I said, remembering, for one horrible moment, Nathan’s snarling face as he’d lunged at me, eyes empty of thought or reason. I remembered the wound on his arm, the seeping bite mark that had been the start of everything. “Did one of them bite you?”

“Dammit, girl! There’s no time!” Samson gave me a wild glare and started limping up the driveway. “Get everyone inside!” he ordered as we hurried to catch up. “Lock the doors!” he bellowed as several people crowded onto the porch, wide-eyed. Mrs. Archer and Rachel were among them, with Davy, the goat, peering at us from behind her legs. She scooped him up and fled inside. “Secure the barn,” Samson continued as we staggered up the steps. “Close the windows, and get all the women and kids into the basement!” He turned to me and Ben, his dark eyes intense. “Everyone grab a weapon, because I think there’s a lot of them.”

An eerie wailing rose from the trees around us, making my hair stand on end. We lurched through the door and slammed it behind us as the chilling cries drew closer, and we prepared for what might be our last night alive.

Chapter Ten

They slid out of the darkness like wraiths, a pale, monstrous swarm, cresting the rise at the top of the driveway. Even huddled behind a window, peering through the slats in the boards, I could see their faces, their dead white eyes and slack jaws bristling with fangs. Most of them still wore the clothes they had died in, torn and filthy now, some with darker, more ominous stains spattered across the fabric.

“Mother of God,” one of the men swore beside me. Shuddering, I drew away from the window and turned to where Samson was giving orders a few feet away, one hand planted against the table to keep himself upright.

“Douse all the lights,” he hissed at a nephew, who scrambled to obey him. “Make sure everyone has a weapon, but, for the love of God, don’t fire unless they’re coming in through the walls! Let’s keep our heads, people!”

“Samson,” I said, stepping between him and Ben. “You need to let me examine you. If you’ve been bitten—”

“I’m fine.” Samson smacked my hand away. “Get downstairs with the rest of the womenfolk, girl. You’ll just be in our way up here.”

I bristled, but Ben put a hand to the small of my back. “She can help,” he said quietly. “She knows how to shoot, and if anyone gets hurt she can patch them up quicker than anyone here. She stays.”

Samson glared at us both, then snorted. “I don’t have time for this. Fine, give the woman a gun if she wants, and tell her to stay back from the windows. Everyone else,
shut up!
” His voice hissed through the room, quieting the mutters, the terrified whispers that we were all going to die. Silence fell, and Samson glowered at the small group of frightened humans. “We all knew this was coming. You all had the choice to leave, but you stayed. We are not going to lose our heads and make stupid mistakes. The survival of this family depends on us, and we will make our stand here.”

A soft, drawn-out creak echoed from outside, as the first of the rabids eased onto the porch.

Everyone froze or silently ducked behind cover, as the pale, hissing swarm crowded the front door. Ben and I peeked around the kitchen doorway, seeing them through the slats over the windows, watching as they poked their claws between the wood, testing it. No one moved, not even when one of the rabids pressed its face to the wall and peered in with a bulging white eye, scanning the room. With a hiss, it pulled back and shuffled off, and the mob on the front porch slowly cleared out. We could still hear them, though, stalking the perimeter of the house, searching for a way in. But, for now at least, they hadn’t seen us. I hoped they couldn’t smell us, though it was obvious they knew something was inside. Maybe they had no sense of smell if they were already dead? I didn’t know, and right now, I couldn’t worry about it. Samson was hurt, and stubborn ass or no, he needed help.

“Ben,” I whispered when everything was still again. “I have to check your father. He needs medical attention, whether he likes it or not. You saw what happened...with Nathan.”

He nodded stiffly. “I know.” For a moment, that ugly pain was there again, darkening his eyes. Then he shook it off, and an iron determination took its place. “What do you need me to do?”

“See if you can get him into the bathroom. There are no windows there, and I’ll need a light to see what I’m doing.” I peeked into the front room again, checking for rabid silhouettes in the windows. “I’ll need to go to our room and get my medical supplies. See if you can convince the stubborn fool to let me take care of him before—”

A thud echoed through the darkness, and everyone jumped, raising their weapons. Ben and I rushed into the room to find Samson collapsed under the table, moaning softly. The rest of the men gaped at his body and at each other, looking lost.

Ben stepped forward, smacking one of the men on the shoulder as he passed. “Dale, help me get him up. The rest of you, go back to your posts. The rabids are still out there. Kylie...” He glanced back at me, and I nodded.

“I’ll get my bag.”

Minutes later, the three of us huddled on the bathroom floor, with Samson slumped against the tub and Ben shining a flashlight over my shoulder. The older man had regained consciousness, but seemed oddly complacent as I cut off his shirt, only commenting once that a knife would work better. Ignoring him, I gingerly peeled back the fabric, revealing a dark mass of blood and mangled flesh below his ribs. Ben drew in a sharp breath.

“Dad, what the hell? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Samson Archer sighed. “Because I didn’t need the lot of you worrying over me when we had fucking zombies coming up the driveway.”

“What happened?” I asked, liberally soaking a towel in disinfectant before pressing it to the wound. Samson hissed through his teeth, clenching his jaw.

“One of the bastards grabbed Shane. He started screaming, and I went back to help him. Then another one of ’em came right out of the ground, right under my feet. It latched on, and by the time I got it off, they’d torn Shane to pieces.”

“Dammit,” Ben growled behind me. “Kylie, can you tell what kind of wound it is? Is he...” He trailed off, and Samson narrowed his eyes.

“Am I what?”

“I don’t know,” I said, moving Ben’s arm to hold the light at a better angle. The ragged flesh and blood made it difficult to determine what kind of damage it was. “Samson, do you remember if the rabid bit you?” I wasn’t entirely certain how the virus spread, if it was passed on through the saliva or blood or something else. But Nathan had been bitten, and everything at the clinic started with that, so I wasn’t taking any chances. “Did it bite you?” I asked again, firmer this time. “Or did it just grab you with its claws?”

“Shit, woman, I don’t know. I was just trying to get the bastard off of me. I didn’t ask what it was doing.”

I pulled my last syringe of painkiller from my bag. I’d found it in my coat pocket a few days ago when I was gathering our clothes to wash. “This is morphine,” I told Samson, holding it up. “It will help with the pain. It will also put you to sleep, so don’t be alarmed if you get drowsy or light-headed.”

“Don’t want to sleep,” Samson growled, waving me off. “Can’t sleep now. Who will look after everyone with those things out there?”

“I will,” Ben said quietly.

Samson’s lip curled. He glanced at Ben and took a breath to scoff, but stopped when Ben didn’t look away. Father and son gazed at each other for a silent moment, and I didn’t know what passed between them, but I took advantage of the moment to slip the needle into Samson’s arm, injecting him with the painkiller. He jerked, glaring at me, then sighed.

“Stubborn, intractable woman,” he muttered, though I thought I caught the faintest hint of reluctant respect below the surface. He snorted. “Know what’s best for everyone, do you? Just like this insufferable idiot. You two are definitely made for each other.”

I didn’t answer, not wanting to snap at an injured patient, though I could feel Ben’s anger behind me. Tossing the needle away, I was reaching for the gauze when Samson’s bony fingers fastened on my arm.

Startled, I looked back to find him leaning in, staring at me intently. “Take care of him,” he rasped in a voice almost too soft to be heard. “If I don’t make it, watch out for him. Don’t let him do anything stupid. You’re the only one he listens to now.”

He slumped against the tub, all the fight going out of him. I sat there a moment, shocked, pondering his words. Anger flickered. Samson had no right to demand I look out for his son, not when he’d done such a dismal job of it himself. And I didn’t need his orders. I didn’t need anyone telling me to take care of Ben. Maybe Samson had to be reminded that you took care of the ones you cared for, even if they’d hurt you in the past, but I already knew that. I was here because I cared for Ben. I was here because...

The reason hit me like a load of bricks, and I nearly dropped the bandages. Because...I loved him. Even after such a short time. I loved his strength, his loyalty, his fierce protectiveness when the need arose. The way he looked at me as if I was the most precious thing in the world, the way his hands slid gently across my skin. Even his faults, the guilt and inner torment, the darkness that he retreated into sometimes. I loved all of that. I couldn’t live without him.

I was in love with Ben Archer.

I finished bandaging the wound, my body and hands acting on autopilot, but my mind far away. Then, still feeling as if I’d been blindsided, I helped Ben move Samson into our room and laid him out on the bed.

Samson’s eyes were closed, and he seemed dead to the world, which was a small kindness considering the pain he must’ve been in. However, when we drew back, he stirred and raised his head, muttering something insensible. Ben glanced at me, then knelt beside his father and bent close, as Samson whispered something only they could hear. Ben gave a solemn nod, and Samson’s head fell back onto the pillow. He finally drifted into unconsciousness.

“I’ll stay with him,” I whispered as Ben stood, looking grave. “You go out there and let everyone know what’s going on.”

He nodded gratefully and paused as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it. Spinning around, he grabbed a long wooden box from the top shelf, set it down, and carefully opened the top.

A revolver lay there, glimmering dully in the shadows. For a second, Ben stared at the gun, a tortured expression briefly crossing his face. But then he yanked the weapon from the case and turned to me.

“Here,” he said, flipping it over and holding it out to me, handle first. “Just in case.”

“Ben...”

“Take it, Kylie.” Ben’s eyes pleaded with me. “In case I’m not here and he... Just take it. Please.”

Gingerly, I reached out and took the gun.

“Ben?” I called as he went through the door. He turned, raising his eyebrows, and I bit my lip.
Just tell him, Kylie. You might not get another chance. Tell him you want to stay here. That you want to be part of this family.

That you’ve fallen in love with him.

But that question still lingered, plaguing me with indecision and doubt. Was Ben’s offer based on love, or the need to continue his family line? Did he genuinely want me, or was this a joining of convenience? Ben had admitted that he needed me, and that he didn’t want me to leave. He hadn’t said anything about love.

I forced a smile. “Tell one of the boys to boil some water for me? I might need to do some stitching later.”

He gave me a puzzled look but nodded and vanished silently into the hall.

* * *

It was a long night.

The monsters never gave up. All through the night and into the early-morning hours we heard them, circling the house, clawing at the windows and scratching at the walls. Sometime after midnight, we heard a wild screeching outside and realized that the rabids had discovered the livestock in the barn. The swarm had surrounded the building, tearing at the walls, and we heard the frantic bleats of the goats within. But there was nothing we could do except hope that our fortifications and the reinforced doors would be strong enough to keep the rabids from slaughtering everything.

Samson continued to worsen. His skin grew hot, and the wound turned puffy and red, fluid beginning to seep through the bandages. I kept close watch on his eyes and mouth, mentally preparing myself to see bloody flecks on his lips or worse, red tears streaming from his eyelids. Apart from the shuffle of the rabids outside and the occasional cough or shift from men in the living room, the house was eerily silent. Ben was a ghost, gliding from room to room, checking on everyone and calming nerves. “We’re almost through this,” I heard him murmur to a relative once. “They’ll go away when the sun comes up. We just have to survive till then.”

And then what?
I thought.
What happens tomorrow night, and the night after that?

Ben came silently into the room, startling me. I looked up from my chair as he handed me a mug that steamed and smelled heavenly of coffee.

“Thought you could use this.”

“Lifesaver, Ben.” I took the offered mug and sipped deeply, welcoming the hot jolt of caffeine. Ben set his ever-present shotgun aside and perched on the ottoman, regarding me with tired eyes.

“How’s Dad?”

“Hasn’t changed.” The same answer I’d given him the past three times he’d come by. I gazed at his haggard, tousled face and had the very strong urge to kiss it. I restrained myself and sipped my coffee. “How’s everyone else?”

“Tired.” Ben rubbed his forehead. “At least, everyone up here is exhausted. Rachel and some of the others downstairs actually managed to get some sleep. Kylie, you never answered my question last night.”

I choked on coffee, sputtering and spilling it down my chin. Setting the cup down, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at Ben’s serious expression. “Is...is this the best time to discuss that?” I whispered.

He closed his eyes briefly, as if pained. “When will I get another chance?” he murmured, scooting closer. “We’re surrounded by death, afraid to even move, and they’re not going to go away. This...” He let out a heavy sigh. “This will be my life, every night. Fighting these things, trying to keep my family alive. And I realize it’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t feel like you have to stay because of me. If the world hadn’t gone crazy, I wouldn’t ask anyone to go through this, especially you.”

A scream echoed from outside, and on the bed, Samson groaned. Ben shot him a worried, hopeful glance, but he fell silent and didn’t stir again.

“Kylie, I need you here,” Ben continued in a low, intense voice. “You’re the most important thing in my life now. As much as any member of my family, maybe more. But...I won’t ask you to stay if you aren’t certain you want to. It’s your choice.”

“Why do you want me to stay?” I whispered.

Ben blinked. “I...thought it was obvious.”

I shook my head. “You told me you wanted to settle down, maybe even start a family. That sounds an awful lot like a proposal, Ben. But, you haven’t said...how you feel about me. And I need to know, before I decide anything. I need to know if this is some partnership of convenience, or if you want me to stay because...”

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