Time of Zombies (Book 2): The Zombie Hunter's Wife (11 page)

Two weeks later

The mouth-watering scent of pork
wafted through the RV yard and carried to the gate where Billy Joe stood, his
face red and his anger raising his blood pressure. The idling motor of the bus
and the sound of irritating voices reminded him he wasn’t alone.

Jack Canida and Paul Luther stood on
the other side of the gate, arms crossed on their chests. The field beside the
encampment stood empty of tents and people eager to trade.

“Like I said,” Jack told him in that
uppity military tone. “The people of RV-1 will no longer do business with you.
You and yours are no longer welcome here. Leave us in peace and we will do the
same. Mess with our people again and Hell will seem like a picnic to what we
will do to you.”

“Now, Jack. I told you I was sorry
about that little girl’s baby. But I don’t see how it is our fault that she
lost a baby conceived in sin. Only God talking care of things, as far as I can
see.”

Paul started toward the gate with
murder in his eyes, until Jack reined him back with an arm across this chest,
stopping him from going for Bennett.

Billy Joe put his hands on his hips.
“That’s right, Canida. You better stop your bisexual bulldog before God brings
his wrath down on his wicked ways as well.”

Jack laughed, his eyes bright and
shining. “I wasn’t protecting Luther, I was protecting you.”

He bit his tongue. He didn’t think
his face could get any hotter, but now it was on fire. He’d tried to help these
sinful people and this was the thanks he got. Why were good Christian people always
persecuted? How much were they supposed to take before they snapped?

“I’ve always just wanted to help. To
bring salvation to your people.”

“Our people don’t want what you’re
selling.”

A scuffle and yelling started twenty
feet or so from behind Jack and Paul.

“I don’t want to go, Juan.”

“You will do what you’re told, Lila,
or so help me God I’ll give that little whore Selena to the first man who wants
her.”

“Please, Juan. Don’t hurt her. She’s
only eight years old.”

Billy Joe stared over Jack’s
shoulder as Paul grasped the commander’s arm and pulled him back.
Now,
wasn’t that interesting?

Juan Morales had his wife, Lila by
the arm, her struggles doing nothing to throw him off. The man was thin, but
wiry. Their daughter, Selena scrambled in their wake, weighed down with a
backpack bigger than she was.

He grinned. At least one man in this
group knew how to be a man and put women in their place. Locking his fingers
together in prayer, he raised his face to the heavens and called out to Juan in
a voice that carried over the growing crowd inside the gate.

“Brother Morales, God has shown you
the way. The Church of Fruitful Harvest welcomes you and your family.”

“We are ready to join you, Billy
Joe,” Juan called, dragging his wife to the gate and glaring at Jack and Paul.
“We’re leaving this evil, Godless place, and you can’t stop us.”

“This isn’t a prison, Juan. You are
free to leave,” Jack said, raising his shaking hand and giving a signal. The
gate slid open wide enough for one person to pass through.

Paul turned to the commander. “You
can’t let him treat her that way. You have to do something.”

“I can’t. We aren’t the law. She’s
his wife. We don’t have the right to stop him.” The words were said hard and
cold, but the commander’s eyes were warm as he stared at Lila. There was
something there. Something he would store for later, in case he needed it.

Billy Joe raised his arms. “Only God
is the law.”

Jack stared at him, those cold eyes
probing and dissecting. “I think Governor Rivers and President Thomas would have
something to say about that. Doesn’t the Bible say, ‘Render unto Caesar the
things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's’?”

His face heated again and he wished
for a weapon to destroy Jack Canida and his band of heathens. He put his shaking
hands behind his back and waited for Juan and his family. Perhaps one man’s
leaving would start an Exodus of the barbarian camp.

The girl shrieked as the man kicked
her out the gate. She fell to the ground, white-blonde hair falling all around
her. One of the women came off the bus and picked her up, helping her back to
the vehicle. Her cries faded away, drowned out by the yells of her mother.

Her hands latched on to the metal
fence until Juan kicked at them with his boots. Her bloody fingers dropped to
her side as her husband shoved her toward the bus. Defeat permeated the air
around her as her head drooped and Juan placed his fist in her hair to pull her
along. She stumbled over the rough road, only her husband’s hand keeping her
upright.

“You bastard,” a yell went up as a
woman streaked to the fence. Long brown hair cascaded over shoulders barely
covered with a tank top, the rest of her exposed in a pair of tiny shorts.

“Michelle,” he whispered on an
exhale but she ignored him, her eyes set on Juan Morales.

She stomped up to the man and yanked
his shoulder. He came around with a gun in his hand, pointed at her chest. The
woman skidded to a stop, the gun’s barrel inches from her body.

Michelle sneered at him. “You know
what they say about a man and his gun, don’t you? Compensating for something,
are we, Juan?”

Billy Joe bit his cheek to stop the
laugh he might have let slip. The woman was fire and sunlight. Hard as a rock
and as soft as a woman should be. His erection throbbed with the rapid beat of
his heart. He was going to get this woman. He licked his dry lips and
swallowed. His time would come.

The large, black man strode through
the gate and stepped in front of Michelle. He glared at Juan until the man’s
face reddened and the gun in his hand shook.

“You want to put that away, little
man, or I’ll make you eat it.”

The man slammed the gun into the
holster on his belt. “We’re leaving and you can’t stop us.”

Teddy Ridgewood leaned down until he
was face to face with Juan. His raspy whisper carried to Billy Joe.

“Just know, I would if I could.
Don’t doubt it for a minute.”

Michelle came from his back and
slipped under his arm. He hugged her shoulders and squeezed. She smiled up at
him and Billy Joe felt the green-eyed snake of jealousy rip through him. His
hands tightened behind his back until the knuckles cracked.

I’ll have you naked and in my bed.
Or I’ll have you Resurrected in a cage.

Michelle shuddered as she glanced
over her shoulder and caught Bennett staring at her. Teddy squeezed her
shoulder and pulled her in closer.

“Are you cold? You could have put
more clothes on to run to the rescue, you know?”

“No, I’m fine.” She refused to turn
back but she could feel his eyes on her like a gun pointed at her back. “It’s
just the Reverend.”

“What about ol’ Billy Joe?”

She laughed, but it died quickly.
“Don’t make light of it. He is like a skinbag creeping in the tall grass, just
waiting to get you as you walk along, all unawares.”

“Well, he can’t get you unless you
go running out of the gate without thinking.”

“I did do that, didn’t I” She smiled
up at him.

He stopped, pulling her to his
chest, leaning down and taking her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. “You’ll be off
zombie-hunting with me in no time,” he said as the kiss ended.

“I don’t think so,” she whispered,
sliding her lips across his, not wanting it to end.

She pulled back. “I wouldn’t mind
hunting and doing in Bennett. The man gives me the creeps. He looks at me like
he wants me naked, sprawled at his feet.”

Teddy grinned. “That’s a nice
picture. I’d like you naked, sprawled at my feet.”

She grinned back and slapped his
arm. “Tag, you’re it. Last one to the trailer is the naked sex slave.”

Her long strides had her touching
the metal door two steps before Teddy. She turned as he pressed her up against the
side of the trailer. “I think you let me win. I think you want to be the sex
slave.”

“But of course, Mistress. Whatever
you desire.”

His rich, deep voice sent shock
waves through her body. His hot gaze drove tremors to her thighs and between as
well. His warm hands on her arms delivered X-rated visions to her brain. Her
hand fumbled and found the doorknob. They fell in, as she ripped his T-shirt
from his body. His chest and abs glistened with light perspiration. His
sandalwood scent filled the confines of the trailer as he stripped and came to
her on his knees.

“Whatever you desire.”

“Strip me,” she ordered.

His hands came at her in a rush. She
stared into the dark depths of his eyes.

“Strip me, slowly.”

His gaze lowered to follow his hands
on her legs. His fingers glided down and in slow motion took off her boots and
socks. Her panties were wet and she still had most of her clothes on.

His enormous, hot hands took up a
foot and caressed the sole. She arched her back and moaned. He slid up her body
until his hands were on the button on her shorts. A flick of his fingers and they
popped open. Her grabbed her hands and stood her up with him still on his knees
before her.

He peeled the old cotton shorts off
of her with a slow glide that would have done excellent duty for undergarments
of silk and lace, on a night of candlelight and champagne.

Her heart beat faster at the thought
of all the time in the world with Teddy in a safe place that allowed lingerie
and long, slow love-making. She imagined Penthouse hotel rooms and hot tubs to
relax in after scalding, passionate love-making. The heat rushed to her face as
the man before her helped her step out of her shorts and he tossed them aside.
He stretched and grasped the bottom of her tank top. Moving it an inch at a
time, his fingers grazed over her stomach and tickled her sides. The thin
material caught on her nipples and brought them out firm and sensitive. Her top
joined the shorts across the room. With a finger, Teddy pulled on the top of
her panties, the tip teasing at the curls between her thighs. Electricity
zinged through her body and sent a gush of warmth to her woman’s core. Her
knees turned to rubber and she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Strip me.”

So slowly it seemed the fabric
wasn’t moving at all, he pulled her panties down her thighs. He kissed every
inch as it appeared. His warm lips and hot mouth on her bare skin sent all the
blood in her body to the apex of her thighs. Her fingers tingled as she grabbed
onto his shoulders.

She wanted him this second but the
game was too much fun. She felt like a goddess, a sexual goddess. Lifting her
leg, she placed it over Teddy’s shoulder and brought herself closer to his
face. His hands cupped her butt and pulled her closer still.

“Whatever you desire,” he whispered
against her thighs.

Her fingers slid down her stomach
and tangled in her curls. “Kiss me. Here. Make love to me with your mouth.”

“Whatever you desire,” he whispered
just before he did exactly as he was ordered.

Teddy pushed up from kneeling in
front of the tiny grave. The wildflowers he’d planted a couple of weeks ago
were putting forth flowers. The tiny white buds covered the little bush. A few
torrential rain falls had done wonders for the scraggly plant. A scuffle behind
him had him yanking the knife from the sheath on his belt and whipping around.
The constancy of the humming repel sound made him relaxed and off-guard.

Beth Evans skidded to a stop in
front of him, with Miranda a few steps behind. Although the young girl had seemed
to recover from her loss of a baby, Ran had been keeping close tabs on her.

“You shouldn’t be out here, Miss
Beth.” His gaze looked her over quickly. “Hell, you don’t even have a gun or a
knife.”

His gaze shot to Ran and he raised
an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, Teddy. I thought she
might like a walk or something. I have my weapons. I would have protected her.”

“I know you would, Ran,” he said. He
did know the young woman was every bit as good as a skilled man with her gun
and her knife. “But maybe Miss Beth shouldn’t be here yet.”

Her green eyes filled with tears and
her hands clutched at her dress fabric. “I should have been here before now.
It’s my fault he’s dead.”

He released a big sigh. Whatever fanaticism
she’d had for the ways of Bennett and his church seemed to have died with her
baby. She’d woken up mourning the child and wanting her family and friends
around her. Her long brown hair flowed down her back uncovered and she was back
to treating young Jed as a potential husband. Still, something in her eyes
looked broken, like shattered china that could never be put back into one
piece. She’d lost that young girl sparkle she’d had.

“The baby was a boy, wasn’t it?” Her
soft-spoken question pierced his conscience. He hadn’t looked when he’d buried
the bundle, and he hadn’t wanted to. Only Michelle and the doctor knew anything
for sure. If this little girl wanted it to be a boy, a boy it would be.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what
Michelle said,” he said, with a tiny twinge for the lie he told.

“You planted flowers,” she whispered
with a sweet, heartbreaking smile. She rushed forward and hugged Teddy.

He patted her back and let her tears
wet his shirt. Maybe they should have brought her out here before now. Might
have helped her. Or given closure like all the self-help books used to preach.

Ran coughed. “I’ll wait over here by
the road.”

The young woman trod over the dirt
clods and stood guard on the asphalt. He sighed again. Another broken woman,
although she’d pulled herself together and come out of the fire, stronger than
before. No telling yet whether Beth would be stronger or fall apart at the next
catastrophe. Only time would tell.

She moved away and fell to her knees
at the graveside. “Can you fix it?”

A shiver went up his spine, just
like his momma said, like someone walked on your grave. Had Beth lost it
totally? Would she be a danger to others, or just herself?

“Miss Beth, what do you want me to
fix?”
Don’t let her say the child. Can’t nobody fix that.

“The cross. He should have a name,
shouldn’t he? Even if he didn’t live, he should have a name of his own.”

“Yes, he should,” Teddy agreed,
grabbing the cross and handing it to Beth. She started untwining the ribbons
and set them on her dress as he got more pieces of wood and quickly nailed them
together.

He brought the finished cross and a
thick nail they’d been using for scratching out the names on the wood. She took
it and stared at the old cross.

“I should keep the Evans-Cruz. Nick
would have liked that.” Tears covered her cheeks but a smile lit up her face.
“His father was Diego. It means James in English and my dad is Jim, I mean
James, too.”

She nodded and Teddy scratched
James
Evans-Cruz
on the battered wood. Beth twined the ribbons back on and he
pounded it into the ground above the small grave.

“If we find some paint, I’ll come
back and paint his name,” she said, her voice stronger.

“That would look very nice, Miss
Beth.”