Apocalypse Cowboy: Futuristic Romance with Zombies (12 page)

“Hello there, pretty girl.”

This wasn’t good. But perhaps she overreacted. Just because he’d sneaked in, probably as she fetched the water, didn’t mean he’d harm her.

Right?

If only she believed it. Hannah swallowed her fear and in a voice that trembled said, “Hello. Can I help you?”

“Oh. You can help me all right. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a pretty thing like you.”

Her throat clenched, and her stomach roiled.
This can’t be happening.
“You should leave. My boyfriend will be back any time now, and he won’t like it if he finds you here.”

“Ooh. Look at me, I’m shaking in my boots.” The stranger leered at her. “Let your boyfriend come. I’ll deal with him. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman?”

Panic clawed at her, and she waved the knife in his direction, a threat that would have held more weight if her hands didn’t shake so badly. “Don’t come near me. Please just go. Brody will hurt you if he finds you here.”

Moving quickly, the thug knocked the knife out of Hannah’s sweaty grasp. Horrified at the loss of her only means of defense, she watched as it hit the floor with a thud and slid out of reach.

The home invader chuckled. “Oops. Did someone lose her toy? I’m sure we can find something else for you to play with. But since your boyfriend is coming, I think we should take this party elsewhere. And to make sure he doesn’t follow…” With a nasty smile, the scruffy man flicked a lighter and lit the edge of the photo album.

Rule of defense number one. Never go anywhere with someone who means you harm. Even though gripped with terror, Hannah recalled this fact from a self-defense course she’d attended in high school. She whirled to run, only to bounce off the immovable shape of another intruder. How had she missed his presence, especially considering he smelled as though he hadn’t bathed since the end of the world.

Caught between the two thugs, Hannah couldn’t help but despair.

Brody, anybody, help me!

A sense of foreboding had Brody driving fast and hard, weaving through the obstacle course that led home.

The trip with Fred had taken him longer than expected. He had to go slower with the old man and make more frequent stops. They’d also run into a few zombies along the way, which he’d stopped to dispatch.

Eventually they made it, and Fred had been welcomed by a tearful Beth. Leaving him in the hands of Joel, who promised to watch over him, Brody had wanted to return to Hannah then and there. However, given the shortage of men and the increase in zombies, he found himself delayed in the hunt for a new wheelchair for Fred. He knew Hannah wouldn’t want to leave him without a means of getting around.

The delay chafed. It wasn’t until the next morning that he managed to leave, barely waiting for the sun to crest before hopping on his bike. He was anxious to return to his stubborn kitten and unable to shake a feeling of dread.

A dread that turned into horror when he saw the smoke billowing in the sky as he drove the familiar road to her house.

No. Fuck no.
A part of him knew that a fire didn’t necessarily mean she was dead or in trouble. Shit happened. One overturned candle—or knowing the way Hannah killed food on the stove—and the flames could be the result of an accident.

But what if it was intentional? The question plagued him as he neared, especially since it forced him to choose between stealth and speed.

Knowing how careful Hannah was about all things flammable, he opted for sneaking in. He stashed the bike and hotfooted it through the fields that led right up to the house, the jagged corn stalks, growing wild in the field, offering him concealment.

He held his revolver in one hand as he prowled through the forest of corn, the rustle of his movement masked by a breeze. Mentally, he prepared himself for what he might find.

Please don’t let her be dead. Please let her be all right.

When he reached the edge of the field, he crouched down and crept forward. The smoke tainted the air thickly here, enough that he pulled his bandanna over his mouth to filter the worst of it. Through the stalks, he saw the orange and red flickers of flames as they hungrily devoured the old farmhouse.

An icy hand squeezed his heart, and he almost ran out into the open, but common sense prevailed. Hugging the edge of the field, he kept moving and stumbled when he heard raucous laughter.

Someone had set fire to the house intentionally. But what of his kitten?

He scanned the trio of men as they passed a bottle among themselves and pointed to the burning house. A lump on the ground at their feet moved, and one of the men reached down. Brody heard a whimpering cry.

Hannah!

With no thought for his own safety, he charged the bastards.

No one hurts my kitten
.

Hannah saw him first, a dark shadow flowing from the corn field, one who stalked with a determined purpose, coming for her and bringing death. A cowboy born of the apocalypse taking the law into his own hands.

Without stopping, he aimed his gun and fired. With a gurgle, one of the scumbags who’d accosted her dropped. Hannah scrambled backward on the ground just as the leader reached down to grab her.

“Stupid fucking bitch. Get back here.” Those were his last words before Brody’s next shot took him out, a headshot that showed no mercy.

Welcome to the new world where violence was met with deadly justice.

The third attacker, not so brave without his buddies, fled into the deepening twilight. Hannah didn’t bother to watch him go. She had eyes for only one person.

“Brody,” she breathed, so happy he’d come back and saved her from a fate worse than death.
My hero. My love.

He tucked his gun into his waistband and held out his arms. She wasted no time throwing herself into them. Effortlessly, he swept her off her feet and took her from the roaring flames and choking smoke. Only when he’d marched a fair distance from the burning house did he unclench his jaw enough to speak. “Did they hurt you?”

“No. You arrived just in time.” The burning inferno and bottle of booze they’d unearthed from a saddlebag had kept them occupied.

Brody didn’t respond. He just kept walking, and Hannah wondered where the hell they were going, but exhausted and in a bit of shock now that the danger had passed, she just lay her head on his shoulder and let herself relax in his embrace.

His destination turned out to be his bike.

“I know it’s been a rough night, but can you hold on for just a little while longer?”

Nodding, she clambered on behind him and held him tight as he carefully drove until they reached the town’s only motel.

He said not a word as he led her into the room, but his hands and mouth spoke for him as soon as he shut the door. Still not speaking, he took her into his arms and kissed her, his lips and tongue wild with urgency.

Just as frantic, she clung to him, her hands pulling at his shirt. But he was too impatient, and to be honest, so was she. He unbuttoned her pants and pushed them down until she could step out of them.

“Brace yourself,” he whispered, turning her so her backside was spooned into his groin.

Shuddering with desire, Hannah placed her palms on the wall and bent forward, pushing her buttocks against his hard shaft.

He reached between her legs, and she heard him grunt when his fingers ran across her already slick cleft. Spreading her nether lips, he guided his cock into her, his thick, pulsing length making Hannah sigh.

His hard length stroked her, pumping into her silken folds. Hannah loved the feel of his hands on her hips as he pounded her faster and faster. His rapid breathing was more erotic than any spoken words. His lips latched onto the back of her neck and sucked the tender skin, making her shudder. And he pumped her faster and harder, his velvety length slamming into her, even as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. Knowing his pleasure lay just a few thrusts away, Hannah took one hand off the wall and, licking a finger, found her clit and rubbed it. When he came with a bellow, driving himself to the hilt inside her and holding it, Hannah followed, her orgasm rippling around his pulsating length.

His hands moved from her hips to turn her around so he could hug her and bury his face in her hair. They embraced tightly for several moments.

Finally he spoke. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take you so rough.”

“It’s okay. In case you didn’t notice, I like it too.” Like him, she’d needed the contact, the closeness. The passionate celebration that they’d both survived and found each other again.

“When I saw the house on fire and saw you in danger…” His voice trailed off, and he hugged her, chokingly tight. “I can’t lose you, Hannah. I love you too much.”

“I love you, too, Brody.”

“I’m sorry about the house. I wish I could have gotten there sooner and saved it too.”

“Who cares about a stupid old house? At least we’re both safe.”

Brody pulled back. “Who are you, and what have you done with my kitten?” he asked, not bothering to mask his sarcastic incredulity.

She couldn’t help a wry smile. “I guess I deserved that. While you were gone, I had an epiphany. Turns out it wasn’t the house and stuff in it that I loved so much. It was my family. Without Beth and Fred and you, well, it was just a house. A big, lonely, and, frankly, falling-apart house. You were right. All of you were. We needed to leave. I was going to tell you when you got back, but then stuff kind of happened.”

“I’ll say stuff happened. So you’re okay now with moving to the settlement where Beth and Fred are?” he asked almost timidly, as if afraid he’d misunderstood.

“I will follow wherever you want us to go. Except for a major city,” she amended, shivering. “They’re just creepy.”

Hannah’s ribs were crushed again, and he burned her with a scorching kiss, an embrace that turned into a much slower bout of lovemaking.

After, cradled in his arms, Hannah smiled as she stroked the arm draped over her side. She finally understood what she’d refused to see before.

This is home.

Three years later…

Hannah smiled as she watched Brody chase Duncan across the front lawn, his shrieks of laughter the most beautiful sound in the whole world.

After an easy pregnancy, she’d thanked the stars she had a midwife for the hard labor to birth her nine-and-a-half-pound baby boy. But the birth wasn’t the scariest part.

For a year, she and Brody waited to see if he’d succumb to the virus or other childhood illnesses they no longer had vaccinations for. But, at just over two and a half, Duncan was a sturdy little boy with a smile brighter than sunshine.

He was well loved by everyone. Just like she and Brody were cherished members of the settlement.

When they’d arrived with only the clothes on their back, everyone had welcomed them into the settlement with open arms. A house was allocated to them with plenty of bedrooms for children—hint, hint.

Uncle Fred had elected to stay in the boarding house with other “folk closer to my generation,” as he liked to say. Beth had lived with them for a little while before getting engaged and marrying Mike. The happy couple had been blessed with a little girl just the year before.

After her year of solitude, Hannah had found, to her surprise, that she quite enjoyed the community they’d joined. Everyone chipped in to take care of the chores that needed tending from farming to livestock to blacksmithing, the early results of which had been laughable. Their village had grown as other survivors had made their way to them. Even more fantastic, they’d made contact with another thriving group a few days’ drive from them. In a joint effort, there were work crews going out every few days, intent on clearing the path between the two colonies for quicker movement.

As for the zombies, the first two years after they’d moved in had seen lots of them appearing, but with the warning systems they’d erected, their thriving group took care of them. This last year, they’d seen only a bare handful, the elements, their culling, and a lack of nourishment killing the flesh hungry beings. But it didn’t mean they slacked on their vigilance.

Everyone had learned valuable lessons about not taking things for granted and always keeping a watchful eye.

But even with danger lurking, life was good. Better than good actually.

The world might have died with a sneeze, but through hard work and plain old stubbornness, people were recovering and adapting. Gone was the stress of money and working for faceless corporations. Now everybody worked for themselves and the neighbors they lived and shared with.

And, even better, everyone was happier. Smiles and laughter were the music that had replaced the hustle of the old world.

“Hey, sexy kitten, give a cowboy a kiss?” Brody tilted his brimmed hat back and smiled at her.

“Kisses!” crowed Duncan, lifting his arms in demand.

Hannah laughed. Rubbing her distended stomach, seven months pregnant with number two—that she hoped was a little girl—Hannah walked down the porch steps to join her two favorite people in the world.

How ironic that the world had ended, and yet the person she got to spend the rest of her life with was the one she’d thought lost forever—but would never let go again.

The End

Author’s Note:
I hope you enjoyed this. If you did, I’d love it if you took a moment and left a review. To check out more of my books please visit my website at
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. Thank you for reading. ~ Eve