Apocalypse Cowboy: Futuristic Romance with Zombies (6 page)

That evening, when they’d all gathered for dinner—with Hannah studiously ignoring Brody, lest she throw him over the table and have him for supper—she mentioned the Amish town.

“Brody was telling me today about the possibility of some survivors taking up residence in that Amish parish.”

Uncle Fred’s eyes brightened. “It makes sense. Everything a person would need in this new world would be there, from livestock to homes that work without electricity to barns and churns and…”

Fred rambled on for several minutes until Beth, with the impatience of youth, interrupted him. “So when do we leave?”

“Well, we can’t just leave,” said Hannah, taken aback by her sister’s eagerness. “Remember these are just rumors.”

“Then why mention it?” cried Beth. “Or do you just not care about me? You’ve got Brody now, so who cares if I’m all alone, right?”

“I don’t have Brody,” Hannah said, more sharply than intended. “And don’t be silly. Of course I don’t want you to be alone. But the nearest Amish village is at least an eight-hour drive, and that was when the roads were clear. Now we’ve got to figure that with detours and stuff it could take twelve hours or more. Not to mention we don’t exactly have a vehicle to take us all, or had you forgotten that?”

Beth opened her mouth to retort but burst into tears instead.

Hannah, immune to her sister’s melodramatic habits, fought an urge to roll her eyes. Brody, however, had never had a little sister used to getting her way.

“Listen, I’ll get to work on finding a way for us all to get there, okay? And if we don’t find people at that Amish village, then we’ll keep searching. I promise you we’ll find survivors, Beth. Nobody wants you to be alone.”

With glistening eyes, Beth beamed at Brody, and Hannah tried to ignore her jealousy. Surely she wasn’t envious of her sister. No. Her discomfort stemmed more from the fact Brody shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t be sure of keeping. What if they didn’t find anybody?

What if Brody is the last man left on earth?
What if there was no one left for Beth?

I don’t think I could share, even with my sister.

The rest of dinner passed with idle chitchat. It wasn’t until Hannah prepared for bed that she could really think about the kiss she and Brody had shared. She’d spent the rest of that afternoon in town looking for supplies in a state of heightened awareness. Every movement made her clothes chafe against her sensitive skin, and each time she accidentally caught his eye, she’d relived that brief moment of pleasure. Worse, she wanted to do it again without stopping him. Her body ached with longing.

Pulling out her vibrator, she tried to muster enthusiasm, but how could she enjoy herself when what she really craved sat just downstairs? The cold plastic of her toy could not match the thickness of his cock.

With a snort of disgust, she threw the vibrator back into the drawer and slammed it shut. Stripping, she prepared to go to bed, but once under her sheet, she tossed and turned, too restless to sleep—too hot and horny.

She hopped out of bed and went to her window, opening it wider, hoping for a cooling breeze. Instead, she heard the strains of music and a weird ticking sound coming from below her window on the front porch. Intrigued, even as she knew who the culprit had to be, she padded barefoot down the steps in her night shorts and tank top.

The front door gaped open with only the screen door shut. Looking out, she saw Brody sitting on the front step holding a long stick.

Curious, she stepped out. “What are you doing?”

Tilting his head to look back at her, he smiled, his obvious enjoyment in her appearance warming her from head to toe. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m preparing to go fishing tomorrow. I thought you might enjoy a change in fare.”

Hannah’s mouth watered at the thought of fresh fish fillets. She hadn’t had meat other than chicken in forever. They’d never taught trapping skills in home economics.

“You know how to fish?” she asked, coming to sit beside him.

Brody chuckled. “Who doesn’t?”

Her for one. Dad had been a farmer. He relied on the land to feed them. “Will you teach me?”

“Sure, but I warn you, we’ll be leaving at the crack of dawn. That’s when the fish bite best.”

“I’ll be ready.”

When they fell silent, she once again heard music. “What the hell is that?” she asked, not recognizing the tune that came crooning out of a small battery-operated speaker sitting on the window ledge.

Brody grinned, his teeth glistening white in the deepening night. “That is a classic from the eighties called ‘Armageddon It’ by Def Leppard.”

Hannah listened, tapping her foot. “It’s kind of catchy. Where’d you find it?”

“When I was travelling, I picked up quite a few MP3 players already loaded with tunes. So long as I can find live batteries, I’ve got music. It makes the time pass quicker when you’re on the road.”

His mention of travel, not to mention the darkness, made her bold. She asked the question that had been bothering her. “You said something before about missing me. Your family. If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to come back?”

“Don’t ever doubt I missed you. I missed you the moment I hit the town line.”

“And yet not once did you call. Not once did you visit. I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s the truth. I was a chicken then and a chicken after the shit hit the fan. A real man shouldn’t admit this, but I want you to know the truth. I need you to understand why I wasn’t here.”

“You were scared.”

“Damned straight I was. I didn’t know if I could handle knowing everyone I grew up with had died. So I waited. And waited. I waited so damned long that the simple solution of picking up a phone and dialing wasn’t an option. When I finally decided I’d played the coward long enough, and realized I wouldn’t get any peace until I knew for sure, I set out.”

“How long ago?”

“Once I knew the snow was melting. I didn’t dare travel during winter, not on a bike. On the way, I ran into delays. My motorcycle broke down. A few times, I ran into survivors, and I stopped to lend a hand. I ran into trouble with one group of folk who thought they could order the rest of us around. It’s a shame violence and ignorance didn’t die along with the rest of the world.”

Hannah shivered at his words. With the world decimated, it boggled the mind that anyone would even think about it. Wasn’t the zombie threat enough?

Brody saw her shudder and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll
never
let anyone hurt you.” The dark menace in his words frightened her, but even more shocking, they sent a thrill through her.

Brody would proudly stand as her knight in shining armor if she let him. But that would mean trusting him. Trusting he wouldn’t leave her again and break her heart. What if he got bored or thought the grass was greener elsewhere and just took off?

Like a cold shower, these plaguing thoughts woke her from the comfortable zone she’d allowed to sink over her while in his presence. How easy it was to forgive and forget. But she still remembered how hard it had been to go on after living through heartache once.

As if he read her mind, he spoke softly. “I’m never leaving you alone again, kitten. I wish you’d believe me. I still love you.”

And I still love you.
She just didn’t know if it was enough.

With a strangled cry, Hannah jumped up from the step and tore into the house.

She fled to her room, wanting to hide from the fact that she loved him. Loved him so much it scared her.

And where will fear get me?
Certainly not getting her heart crushed. But, on the flip side, she’d be alone.
I’ve been given a second chance. How stupid would I be to turn that down? This is a new world. A fresh start. Maybe I need to stop being a fraidy cat and learn to live again. I can’t hide forever.

Because, in this new world, she could only be sure of today.

Would she or wouldn’t she?

Not long after dawn, Brody waited for Hannah out front. He’d barely slept the night before, excited at the prospect of spending a few hours alone with Hannah—if she hadn’t changed her mind.

She’d taken off so abruptly the night before after he’d confessed his love to her. Should he have perhaps waited? Yes. And no. Hannah might not have proven receptive to his declaration, but he wanted her to know. Life was too short for him to hide how he felt.

Unable to stand still, he fidgeted with the straps on the luggage rack attached to the back fender of his bike where he had a cooler and the fishing poles strapped down. Good thing he’d been able to break the rods down into smaller segments or else they’d have had to carry them on the bike, jousting lance style.

With a yawn, Hannah finally appeared dressed in loose track pants and a hoodie, her hair back in a tight ponytail. She looked so soft and sleepy that he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until her blood rushed through her body, flushing her cheeks and brightening her eyes.

It was so easy to picture other mornings, ones where he’d snuck into her room at night and they’d enjoyed the most decadent of sex, the kind that required absolute silence so no one caught them.

How he missed those passionate nights and mornings, where she saw him off with a frantic, “You gotta go before my dad gets up.” Never mind that Hannah was old enough to move out and make her own decisions. They sneaked around, sometimes just for the thrill of it.

Did she remember with the same arousal those memorable moments? Would reminding her make her let down the wall she guarded herself with? He hoped so because his craving for her wasn’t getting any easier. While he understood Hannah would come to him only when she was ready, he sure hoped it was sooner rather than later.
Because if my balls get any bluer, they’ll probably fall off.

As Hannah skipped down the steps, she approached the motorcycle, and he could scent the clean freshness of soap. No shower didn’t mean they didn’t bathe. They just tended to be more of the damp cloth kind.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” she asked as she glanced over the mound of equipment.

“Your daddy didn’t fish, but mine did. I took your bike last night and went to grab a few.”

“You went back there on your own, by yourself!” She planted hands on hips, utterly indignant at his actions.

“I did.” And killed another three zombies. Not a good sign. He’d spent the night on the main level of the house, after he checked that all the doors and windows were secured. It wouldn’t do for one of the shambling creatures to get in.

“You are an idiot,” she declared.

“Says the girl who’s been on many a raiding expedition according to your sister and uncle.”

“In the daytime. Even I know better than to go out at night. Did you see any more zombies?”

Oh how he wished he could lie. “A few, but they’re gone now.”

Her expression didn’t seem reassured. She glanced back at the house, her brow knitted. “Maybe I should stay behind.”

“Bethie knows how to shoot a gun and so does Uncle Fred.”

“But they’ve never had to kill one of
them
before.”

Maybe it was time they learned. But Brody doubted it would happen today. Out here, it was easy to forget about the zombies, given the abundance of life all around them. He pointed it out. “If there were zombies around, I guarantee we wouldn’t see cows grazing in the field over there. They’d be moo-peding.”

“Moopeding?” she queried.

“Moo-peding. You know cows moo, and if they do it while stampeding, it’s—”

She slapped his arm as he laughed. “That is the dumbest joke ever. You are an idiot.”

“So you keep reminding me. And you’re a worrywart. Come on, kitten. We’ll only be gone for a few hours. Imagine how excited they’ll be if we come back with some fresh fish.”

She still hesitated.

“I even promise to scale and gut them if you come.”

Brody swung his leg over the bike and started it, the rumbling purr loud in the early hour.

With one last glance at the house, she decided.

Brody couldn’t help but tense a little when she clambered on behind him, her arms wrapping tight around his torso. He swallowed hard when her full breasts pushed into his back. For a moment, with his eyes closed, Brody allowed himself to savor the feel of her body pressed against him so intimately. Such a simple embrace and yet his instant erection strained inside his jeans. The only way to improve the moment would have involved her sitting astride facing him, wearing a lot less clothing.

Talk about torture.

With a fierce twist of the throttle, he took off. Hannah’s arms tightened, crushing him like the coils of an anaconda—and he loved it.

Brody took familiar roads and an overgrown dirt path to the river, wishing it farther away so he could enjoy the feel of her molded against him a little longer. Hannah would notice if he detoured though. As he turned onto the rutted track leading to his favorite fishing spot as a kid, he slowed down and kept an eye on the tree line for movement.

It occurred to him that perhaps this excursion was foolhardy, given the screening of the foliage. Did hungry zombies even now sniff the air and “unh” in excitement at the buffet headed their way?

His neck didn’t prickle. His gut didn’t clench. Since both had kept him alive so far, he trusted them. He cut the motor when they hit the grassy embankment just past the last straggly line of trees.

He’d no sooner rolled to a stop than Hannah hopped off. “I think I ate a bug,” she gagged, her face wrenched in distaste.

The hazards of riding a bike. Safety rules said they should wear a helmet, but Brody enjoyed the wind in his hair. Speaking of hair, his probably stood nicely. He pulled his cowboy hat from his saddlebags and jammed it atop his head. Hannah, on the other hand, remained bare-headed, her strands glinting in the morning light. A natural beauty that he couldn’t help but admire. He especially enjoyed watching her rounded tush, lushly evident even in her loose clothes, swinging sexily as she wandered to the river’s edge.

Brody kept an eye on her as he unpacked the fishing gear. Not because he feared her succumbing to danger but more because he couldn’t help himself. When was the last time he’d seen her face so soft, the lines of stress smoothing as she dipped her toes in the water, her shoes already discarded on the bank?

Spreading a blanket, he sat down cross-legged with the fishing poles and threaded them back together, clipping bobbers, hooks, and bait on their ends. Hannah wandered from the water to sit beside him.

“Where’s the worms?” she asked, lifting one of the baited hooks and wrinkling her nose at the hairball on the end.

“This is not the Stone Age, woman. Real fishermen use lures. That furry one you’re looking at is a Murdich minnow streamer.”

“Looks like something I pulled out of my hairbrush.”

“Yeah, well, for the bass we want to catch, it will hopefully look like lunch. If those don’t work, though, I do have some plastic worms as backup. Grab this.” He handed her one of the poles. “That one is yours.”

She stood with it, the hook swinging wildly.

“Whoa! Watch where you’re pointing that thing, kitten.” She’d already caught his heart. He’d prefer she not catch his eyes or even his cheek with that wickedly sharp hook.

At his rebuke, her cheeks blushed a becoming pink.

“Sorry.” Contrite, she held the rod away from him. Standing, he gestured for her to follow him down to the water’s edge.

“Now watch real close so you can see what I do,” he instructed, exaggerating the movements required to cast the line. With an ease born from years of experience, his lure flew across the water, landing with a little splash, the current pulling the line taut.

Hannah adopted his stance and flicked her rod. Nothing happened, and she scowled at him and her fishing pole. “Why didn’t it work?”

“Remember to click that button just as you fling it forward.”

She pulled back again and whipped the rod forward. The hook and lure ejected a few feet and stopped dead.

Brody held in a laugh as she cursed.

“Stupid thing is broken.”

Wedging his pole into the soft ground and bracing it with rocks, he went over to give her a hand.

“Let me show you how it’s done.” He wrapped his arms around her, not exactly the way he was taught, but as a guy with the hots for this girl, any excuse to touch her worked.

He fitted his hands over hers. Her lush bottom tucked into his groin, and he momentarily forgot what he meant to teach her.

Teach her how to crave my touch again.

His body knew exactly what it wanted, and given her proximity, she noted it too. She turned her face toward him with a gasp.

“Brody!”

“Would it be corny to say congrats you caught a big one?”