Eat the Ones You Love (The Thirteen Book 2)
Read Eat the Ones You Love (The Thirteen Book 2) Online
Authors: J.L. Murray
Copyright © 2015 J.L. MURRAY
HELLZAPOPPIN PRESS
All rights reserved.
For my wonderful beta readers.
You make everything possible.
Thank you.
Prologue
“You’re an animal,” he whispered.
“You love it,” said Jenny.
They met only a few days earlier, but it seemed like they’d known each other forever. Jenny wasn’t used to trusting people, but Declan Munro entered her life with a fierce intensity. She felt like every time he looked at her, he was looking deep within. As though he saw something that she couldn’t. And that smile…
Jenny got up from the soft, musty pile of clothes and slipped her shirt over her head. She looked down at Declan, sprawled dramatically on the floor. He grinned, watching her.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“What, get dressed?” she said.
“You got someplace to be?” he said. “Hot date?”
“Don’t you want to explore?” she said. “What is this place, anyway?”
He laughed, but then went serious when he saw her face. He sat up.
“You’ve never been to a mall?” he said, incredulous.
Jenny shrugged and turned away. She scanned the overturned silver racks and counters. The piles of decaying fabric. A few bodies had been pulled over to the corner. Most of the stores were empty. Some of them flooded or taken over by vines or trees. This one had been closed up and had avoided damage.
“My family didn’t let me…” she started. She shook her head. “We didn’t get out much. Do you think there’s any food out there?”
“Nah, everything’s been raided. Probably years ago.” He got up and walked over to her, standing right in front of her so she couldn’t look away. She had to look up to see his face, but he obliged by hunching down a little.
“Hey, you don’t have to be scared with me,” he said. He took her hands in his, lacing his fingers through hers. “I’m never going to hurt you, Jenny.”
“I know,” she said, liking the warmth of him, the closeness of him.
“Do you?” he said. “I mean, I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I wouldn’t trust me if I met me in an alley.”
She laughed, looking into his eyes. Dark and deep, that’s where his eyes went. Suddenly she felt a little breathless.
“I’ve had a rough time,” she said. “For the past…forever.” She laughed at her own awkwardness. “I mean, everyone has, but you have to understand, there are far worse people out there than Heathens and Righteous.” She felt a tingle behind her eyes. “I feel like I’ve lost someone,” she said, not knowing she felt it until she said it. “But I don’t know who. I can’t…I can’t remember.” She took a step back and let go of his hands. She started to turn away again, but he caught her arm. Not forceful, but gentle and soft. Warm.
“Jen,” he said, his voice low and intimate. She could feel his breath on her neck as he wrapped his arms around her, bending down to pull her in. She let him.
“I just can’t remember,” she said. She knew she was crying and she knew it seemed crazy, but she couldn’t stop it.
“It’s okay,” he said, his words hot on her ear. “It’s okay, Jen. It’s over. You’re here now.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she said.
He laughed. “Neither do I, but it sounds good, doesn’t it?”
That made her laugh too, and he released her, stepping back to look at her. He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and held her face in his hands. He stared at her for a long time, a stricken look on his face.
“I’m never going to let anyone hurt you again,” he said. And there was a ferocity in his voice that made Jenny believe him. His eyes grew even more intense and his face went hard. “Believe me, Jen. You’re safe now. I will always protect you. And I will always be where you are. Okay?”
Jenny tried to look away, but something held her there. She felt chained to those eyes.
“You can’t know that,” she said. “You barely know me.”
“I know you,” he said. “I knew from the second you looked at me. The second you smiled at me. I knew, Jen.”
“What did you know?”
He kissed her then. Not rough and playful like before, but soft. Warm. And she kissed him back. They tumbled back down on the soft pile again, their hands all over each other. Jenny broke away suddenly and looked down at him. He was panting and he started to reach for her.
“Promise me one thing,” she said.
“Anything,” he said.
“I have a brother,” she said. “Will you help me find him?”
“Your brother,” he said, surprised. “You have family?”
“Will you help me?” she said.
He propped himself up on his elbows to look at her.
“Is that who you lost?” he said. “Your brother?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe.”
He nodded, seeming to be processing. He frowned.
“If I have to rip the world apart to find your brother, Jenny, I’ll do it. I’ll bring what’s left of civilization to your feet. I’ll have the Righteous worshipping you, and they will scream your name as they bury your enemies.”
Jenny hit him lightly on the chest.
“I’m serious, dammit.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry. I know.”
“If you don’t want to help me…”
“It’s true, though,” he said, his eyes pushing into her again, seeming to look right into her mind.
“What’s true?” she said, and she let him pull her down until she was lying on top of him. Until they were touching, nose to nose. Until she could almost taste his lips and his breath sent a shiver down her spine.
“I would do anything for you, Jenny. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me. We’ll turn the world upside-down, you and me. We’ll do whatever we have to do to find your brother. It’s you and me from here on out. Everything that you want, I’m going to give it to you.”
“Why would you do a thing like that?” she said. She tried to make her voice even.
“Because you’re not getting rid of me,” said Declan. “You’re stuck with me now.”
And then they were kissing. And then it didn’t matter.
It wasn’t until much later, as the dying light filtered through the filthy skylight, that Jenny remembered.
“His name,” she said, smoking the cigarette he’d given her. It was good, almost fresh, and she breathed it into her lungs, long and deep.
“What?” said Declan, lighting his own cigarette and then lying back and putting an arm around her naked shoulders. They were both covered in a sheen of sweat, but she didn't mind.
“I never told you my brother’s name,” she said.
“What is it?”
Jenny took a drag of the cigarette, staring at the burning cherry on the end. The redness of it bright in the dim light, illuminating the tendril of smoke that rose out of it. This moment was magic. She could feel it hard in her chest and something told her to hold onto it. To remember this moment in time. Things always went bad, and she needed this. She needed to remember something good when shit went really bad. She heard someone scream outside, but it was so far away there was no danger here. No danger with Declan Munro. She believed him. She trusted that he would protect her now with every living breath he had.
“It’s Casey,” she said, blowing smoke out of her nostrils. “My brother’s name is Casey.”
ONE
The prophet was screaming again.
Jenny bolted up in her cot. She didn’t sleep anymore, not really. She just rested, remembering how the world used to be, how she and Declan used to be, back before she died. Before she got him killed.
She wriggled out of her sleeping bag, slipped into her boots without tying them, and unzipped the tent. Trix was up as usual, her eyes narrowed toward the Living camp. A fire was visible from across the creek, the glowing coals left to smolder as the Heathens slept.
Trix pushed a tendril of straight black hair out of her face. Jenny first met Trix when, in search of her brother Casey, Jenny had been bitten. Casey and his friends – including Trix– kidnapped Jenny, nursed her through becoming Undead, and set her on a path to finding a cure.
“Motherfucker screams every night,” said Trix. “It’s dangerous.”
Thirteen children survived the plague experiments designed by Jenny and Casey's mother, Anna Hawkins. Jenny came out with a metal spine and the ability to heal, courtesy of Anna's father—Jenny's grandfather—the sadistic, brilliant Dr. Frank Bierce. Jenny had the ability to beat the rotter plague and become Living again. Casey and the others didn't have the luxury. They were all rotters, zombies, but they'd kept their minds, their humanity.
Sully, a twisted, obsessive freak who worked for Anna, killed everyone else to get to Jenny. Fisher, Grayson...and Casey, among many others. Jenny and Trix were the only ones who survived, and Trix followed Jenny when she set off in search of her mother. Trix said it was for Casey, but Jenny knew the real reason.
It was better than being alone.
Jenny listened to the screaming. Usually Zeke the Prophet came back to himself after less than a minute, but tonight he didn’t sound the same. Jenny shook her head.
“Something’s wrong, that doesn’t even sound like Zeke.” She looked around. “Where the fuck is Declan?”
Trix met Jenny's eyes.
“Shit,” said Trix.
Jenny had bitten Sully and killed him. Sully who killed her friends and her brother. Sully who tortured her. Sully who started the rotter plague. But she didn’t kill him enough. He woke up a rotter and bit Declan. It had been her fault, all her fault, and everything she did seemed to just make things worse. Desperate and searching for a way to help Declan, Jenny gave Declan a piece of herself. Literally. Declan ate a piece of her and when he came back, he could talk, think, reason—to a point. He was still a rotter, and he was still deadly. But he wasn't gone, and that was enough for Jenny. Though it hadn't exactly been a graceful transition.
As one, Trix and Jenny started running toward the camp, the creek frigid as it rushed into Jenny’s boots. Jenny’s heart pounded in her ears and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe when she saw the blood that soaked through the tent. It had been ripped open and someone was backing out of it.
Declan was looking at his hands, covered in gore. Jenny could smell the blood and her mouth watered. She pushed the hunger away. Declan stood outside the tent and stared at it, as if unsure what had just happened. The screaming stopped.
“Jesus Christ, asshole,” said Trix. “What the fuck did you do?”
Declan jumped. He met Jenny’s eyes. He was shaking. Jenny took a step toward him and he backed away. He was wearing pants and nothing else, blood smeared across his chest and covering his bare feet.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Declan,” said Jenny. “Let me help you.”
He shook his head. “Just stay away. You can’t help me anymore.”
Jenny took another step toward him. “It’s not your fault.”