Apocalyptic Moon (After the Bane) (21 page)

Despite her pounding headache, she climbed on the shovel. “Let us go, but fly slow.” Deaf ears met her command. There was not even one bit of movement or vibration. Her witchmacallit no longer worked.

Dora kicked at a rock, sighed and muttered. “
Damn it Jim
,
I’m a doctor, not a camel
.” As she walked on the crackled land, she wished she’d worn her athletic shoes rather than her biker boots. She tied the helmet strap and her leather coat on the shovel and turned it into a sunshade. With her makeshift umbrella, she looked like a walking piece of patio furniture strolling in the barren desert.

After a few miles, she looked over her shoulder. The zombies had not given up and shambled toward her. She’d been too weak to do more than a slow jog. At least at this distance she couldn’t hear them. Her lips were parched and her eyes watered from the brightness. Her sunglasses were back on the bike packed in her passenger seat compartment.

If only zombies weren’t stalking her. She’d be able to sit under her makeshift tent and wait for Dirk. Above, two vultures circled. Scavengers, hoping she would drop and die. The thought of birds pecking out her eyes wasn’t as bad as humans chomping her. At least the scavengers had the decency to allow her to rot first.

“
Dirk, I just want to see you one more time.”
Dora swayed, the heat unbearable, and she wobbled. She dropped the shovel, fell on her knees, and then hit face first into the ground. She tasted dust before closing her eyes.

****

Dirk rode his bike at breakneck speed, fearing for Dora’s life. He’d smelled her fear, not just from the zombies, but also from her unexpected flight. When she shot like a cannon ball out of his eyesight, he’d felt like his heart had been ripped out. Was she still hurtling through the sky like a meteor? Had she slammed against the side of a mountain? Was she dead somewhere in the middle of the desert or hurt and alone? His inner wolf growled in rage, snapping at his heels to hurry.

He pinned the throttle in the right direction. Sooner or later he’d come across her.
“Dora, where are you?”
He’d been trying to contact her through their telepathic link, but it was blank. As the wind slapped his face, he flared his nose and focused on picking up her scent. He should have sensed danger sooner. The wine and cuddling with her into sweet sleep had relaxed his guard. He’d never felt more at peace than when Dora had given him the message from Derrick.
Babe, please be safe.
Even once he found her, they were not home free. The complication she was a witch was one thing, but the complication he wanted a witch as a mate was over the top. That had to be it. Damn it. It was more. His wolf snarled
mine
!

He accelerated as if speed would soothe his troubling thoughts. In the distance, he spotted two vultures hovering low and slowed to a stop. He flared his nostrils and caught a whiff of her scent. The shadow of the scavengers above indicated they too had caught her smell. He growled. Before him, filtered the stench of the undead, heading in her direction. A swarm of about two dozen zombies. Dead men dressed in military uniforms, many still fully armed, their weapons still fastened, never to be used. He sped on to a service road near a dried creek. A quarter mile farther, a prone body lay on the caked mud. His hands shifted to claws and the fur on his back prickled. He fought to stay human and sped past the zombies.

Dirk spun to a stop several feet in front of her body. Leaping off the bike, he picked up her limp body. “Dora.” He cradled her on his lap. Her pulse was strong. Alive. Relief washed over him and he returned to his fully human form. He held her tight and rocked her back and forth, breathing in her sweet essence.
I thought I lost you, babe
. He gently patted her face. “Dora, wake up. We need to leave now.” She blinked her eyes open and mouthed for water. He gently set her down and dashed to the trunk for a bottle of water. He lifted her head. “Drink, babe.”

She grabbed the bottle and drank the water to the last drop. Sitting up on her own, she curled a slow smile. “Glad you made it. I think I’ve used up all my frequent flyer miles.”

He smiled. Always with the jokes. “No problem, babe. I’ll do all the driving.”

The zombies less than two hundred yards away barked in frenzied moans as they honed in on her. Feral wrath filled Dirk’s core and his wolf raged for release. He removed his leather coat, tossed off his boots and then his pants. It was too late when he fumbled with his shirt. The material ripped as he shifted. His mate threatened, the wolf took control. He roared as bones cracked and reformed.

The zombies ignored the seven-foot tall fierce werewolf before them. They shuffled, limped and a few even dragged their broken and torn limbs toward Dora. The maddened werewolf charged. In a whirlwind of death and destruction, he swung his powerful muscular arms, using his dagger-like claws to decapitate, slash and crush skulls. He left torn, shredded and headless zombies in his savage wake. He snarled at the pile of bodies that oozed black blood on the dry ground and howled in victory. One zombie with his head still attached by a single tissue of sinew crawled toward Dora. In wolfish rage, Dirk raked his back and clawed out its spine. Like a toy without a battery, the last zombie stilled.

Towering over his kill, he stood panting more from rage than exhaustion. Killing them had not been difficult. Not one zombie had bitten him or bothered to fight back. The entire time he mauled them, they only thought of eating Dora, making the wolf in him the fiercest he’d ever been. He growled at the fallen dead, almost wishing they’d get up so he could kill them again. The stench of their pus-filled skin accosted his nose and out of anger, he grabbed a headless zombie and slammed it against a boulder. Not even the vultures cared for the taste of their rotten meat and they soared away.

“Dirk.”

He turned and snarled with drool dripping fangs. Damn it! Dirk wanted Dora to stay down, to rest, to be unharmed, and to be safe, but that was not the message he conveyed.

Her eyes widened at the monster he was. She suppressed a cough and rasped, “It’s over.”

He tilted his head. She was beautiful even covered in dust and sunburned. Her scent so pure and pleasant. A single blooming flower amongst the rotting flesh. She needed him, but not like this. A maddened beast. He slowed his breathing. They were reunited and she was safe. His wolf calmed and Dirk willed himself to his human form and human sensibilities. He gathered his discarded clothes and dusted them off.

She averted her eyes with her jacket. “Get dressed before you burn your bum.”

He chuckled. “Go on and look. Doctors are used to naked bodies, right?”

“To examine, yes, but not to…oh never mind.”

He zipped his fly. “Not to ogle. Gotcha.”

Dora dropped her cover. “Of course, if you’re injured I can take a quick look.”

He rubbed his healing wrist.

She wobbled before getting her balance and stood. “Let me see.” He moved closer so she wouldn’t expend much energy. She held his arm and stroked the wound, sending a shiver of excitement to his already hard cock. “Amazing, it’s as though your body stitched the gash.”

He closed his eyes and his breath hitched.

“Sorry, it still hurts?”

Dirk raised a brow. What hurts? Oh, that.
Yeah, let her think I need a doctor’s care
. She continued to inspect it with feather light touches, ones he craved for her to use elsewhere. Like below his waist. Dora had no clue how turned-on he was. He pulled away and turned his back to her before he succumbed to his urge to take her here. The thought of her on her knees, tanning her ass under the burning sky while he plunged into her made his fangs emerge. He growled, “I’m just recovering from my shift.”

She narrowed her eyes. Despite their severed telepathic communication, she must know his inner desires. Why else was there moisture between her legs? “Let’s get out of this heat.”

He picked up his shredded shirt. “Useless. Afraid I’ll have to be bare-chested beneath my coat.” He shot her a wolfish grin. “Not a problem, right, Doc?”

“None whatsoever.” She said with a mischievous grin, “The better to grip you.”

He wanted to howl. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

He helped her on the backseat, but before climbing on the bike, he narrowed his eyes. “Umm, no more broom flying.”

“Trust me, the only kind of flying I want to do is on a Harley.”

****

Dora enjoyed the feel of Dirk’s brawny body as they continued on their journey. Her caveman, that is, her wolfish caveman. She’d been as good as dead before he rescued her. True, he had frightened her while he raged in bloodlust, yet she knew he’d never hurt her. It was obvious he’d been aroused when she checked his injury. She hadn’t been blind to his bulging erection. Would she settle on being a sex buddy to a man of the werewolf persuasion? Hell, yeah. It was the apocalypse. Who cares if he has a future Mrs. Werewolf in waiting? Life was no longer safe, never was for her anyway. The twenty-seven year curse was never over. The zombie apocalypse had extended her life, not guaranteed it. There were still swarms of zombies to deal with, the witch hunting Benandanti werewolves, and marauding human road warriors. Because of his hot body and alpha status, there would also be jealous female werewolves more than willing to rip her throat out. Once they arrived in his territory, she’d make sure any intimate moments they shared, were kept private.

For now, on a Harley with Dirk, her red-haired hunk she felt safe. Who knows, maybe after they rescued her family, they would part ways. No way could she watch him marry another. The cool breeze was free of rotting zombies. Best to enjoy the moment. She sighed in contentment.

Once again, the sun set, but this time over the Pacific. Home. They had driven non-stop, taking smaller rural routes, only stopping for a quick meal and fueling. They’d passed an earlier sign that said Big Sur. There had been enough cleared roads to avoid zombies. As they neared the coast, Dirk took curvy roads through mountain passes. Perilous roads were zombie safe. The living dead had no coordination and no fear of heights, a clear advantage for survivors. However, this only reduced zombie numbers, not eliminated them. Her heart raced at each twist on the road, expecting to see a swarm rush out of the brush.

The fresh ocean fog invigorated her as they drove by vineyards and former dairy farms. The barns and paddocks were empty. What had happened to the cattle? The only comforting thing Mansfield had ever told her was that animal lovers set millions of animals from exotic zoo species to caged pets free, knowing nobody would be left to care for them.

Dirk stopped and pointed to a sign next to a modern architecture building in the woods. Greenwood Spa and Yoga/Meditation Center. Off the Grid, All Solar. Then below, another wooden sign read, Closed until Evacuation is over. Peace and Love.

They got off their motorcycle. Dora removed her helmet, shook and then raked back her hair. “I bet this place once cost a mint to go to.”

He sniffed. “No zombies and no humans around.”

They climbed the steps. The spectacular solar paneled glass redwood-decked structure rested on a hill with a panoramic view of the ocean and surrounded by a forest of trees and fern. She peered through the glass. Inside the palatial spa were a covered Olympic-sized swimming pool and several hot tubs. The perfect remedy for her stiff legs. She beamed. “I can’t wait to jump in the pool.” The water would wash away blood, grime and dust. She read the sign next to the door, Suites Must Be Reserved Thirty Days In Advance.
When was the last time she’d slept on a real bed? Not long ago her only concern was sleeping through her alarm and being late for rounds.

Dirk grabbed her and pulled her behind him. He tilted his head with his wolfish furred ears and sniffed deeply.

Dread clouded her elation on finding heaven. She furrowed her brows in shameless disappointment. “I thought you said no zombies.”

He took one long drawn in breath and slowly released it. “I just wanted to make sure this wasn’t too good to be true.”

“I doubt zombies are into yoga.” She jiggled the door. “Locked.”

“Not a problem.” Dirk gently pushed her aside and used the blunt end of his dagger to break the glass above the doorknob. Fortunately, no alarms went off. Perhaps the former owner knew a blasting alarm would be useless and disrupt the spa’s harmony. Not to mention alert local zombies dinner was served. He reached in, opened the door and threw her a smile. “We’re home, dear.”

She ran in and read the pool’s description. “Wow. It’s a salt water pool. Non-chlorinated.” Nearby, a mirrored room with rolled up yoga mats beckoned her. She missed her twice-weekly yoga class. Hmm. Could a werewolf learn downward facing dog pose? Just the thought of him bending on his hands and feet with his muscular ass up in the air made her horny as hell.

Dora shook the blatant fantasy out of her head and marched to the registration table. She opened a white binder. Wow, pictures of each suite with their own names. “I’m definitely sleeping in the Tahoe Suite.”

He ignored her preference. Maybe he wasn’t choosy about rooms. Was it because he planned on sharing a bed, any bed? Or none. Dirk passed a fountain and peered in a room. She followed. He smiled. “Massage tables.” He stretched and then rubbed a shoulder. “I do feel several kinks that need to be worked out.”

She shot him a pointed stare. “I’m a doctor, not a massage therapist.” She wanted to add, “
Damn it Jim
,” but worried he’d grown tired of the old
Star Trek
reference. “Though, I did enjoy my class on physical therapy.”

He turned and winked. “Tahoe room is it? I’ll get the keys.”

So, he was paying attention.

Chapter 13

Much to Dirk’s disappointment the spa’s kitchen menu was vegan. He sniffed a few plastic bags of raw foods and scrunched his nose in disgust.