Love in the Time of the Dead (16 page)

“Aw, don’t be a spoil sport, Landry,” Mitchell said through a rakish grin. “The rest of us like gate checks just fine.” He slapped her backside firmly and went back to fastening his belt.

She glared at him and scooted out of physical harassment range, rubbing her bottom gingerly. “Mitchell, you are a bunion.”

“Oh, come on, Laney. If I didn’t annoy you, you would be completely bored with your life. You would! So you’re welcome,” he said with a devilish wink.

He went back to work redressing. He was standing unashamedly beside her in all of his shirtless glory. No matter how much the man made her blood boil, she couldn’t deny that he was a beautifully made, masculine creature. He was tall and lean, and his defined chest delved directly down to an elongated and muscular abdomen. His pants hung low on his waist, but not annoyingly so. They showed just enough musculature retreating to regions below, and try as she might to feel differently, she couldn’t help but find the fashion obnoxiously intriguing on his physique.

She squinted at the tiny script tattoo across his ribcage. It was located under his arm and done in such a fashion that it was almost indecipherable. She always tried to make out what it said, but thus far had been disappointingly unsuccessful. He had his done the same night she had gone in for her peacock tattoo. He had never let her look closely at it though and so far had absolutely refused to tell her what it said or meant. Probably to annoy her. He would say, “You aren’t ready to know yet,” with an obnoxious grin.

He noticed her interest in his tattoo and pulled the shirt over his head. “Nice try.”

She didn’t know why he looked so amused with himself. “It probably says bunion,” she muttered.

Sean and the guards rejoined the group. “We’re cleared for gate check, but we have to report directly to Melony Benton. She is the leader here. By we, I mean Laney and I.”

“Where Laney goes, we go,” Guist said in a tone that invited no argument.

“That’s what I figured. Let’s load up.” Sean hopped in the driver’s seat and started the truck.

She hoisted Adrianna into the back seat, and the shorter guard jumped into the bed of the truck with Mitchell.

“Where are we, anyway?” she asked as Sean pulled the truck through the opening gate.

“Blue River, population six hundred eighty-five,” Finn offered. “Or so the sign said. I’m assuming the last few years has maimed that number a bit.”

She wiped condensation off of the window with her forearm as they climbed a steep mountain road. Buildings made of logs peeked from between thick groves of pine trees. Every colony was different, but this one was the most unique and picturesque she had seen. Most colonies felled the trees near living quarters so the people who dwelled there could spot danger at a distance and feel a little safer. In contrast, this high altitude colony used trees to camouflage its very existence. Each building was one of a kind with snaking, thin walking trails that connected them all. All of the cabins were small, but some were of newer, cruder construction while others seemed dilapidated, though sturdy. Her ears popped as the truck climbed a zigzagging switchback. To the left of the truck was a leveled area that housed three rows of RVs someone had taken the time and substantial effort to track down and haul in. They were placed in close proximity to each other but as far as housing went, it was highly efficient. Farther up the mountain, long wooden cabins made of fallen pines jutted out of the forest. Each had ten doors, evenly spaced, which indicated the cabins were made of separated bedrooms for different families. The space between the wooden logs that comprised the construction was packed tightly with what looked to be concrete of some sort. She counted six of the long cabins before Sean pulled the truck into a parking area filled with other four-wheel-drive vehicles and one giant eighteen-wheeler. How they managed to get that huge supply truck up the mountain road Sean had just maneuvered was beyond her.

“Let’s go,” Sean said as he parked the truck.

He led the group up a trail through the dense woods. They crossed three small bridges where one of many rivers snaked its way down through the Rocky Mountains. The bubbling and gentle rushing of the water relaxed the tension in her shoulders almost immediately. How could a place so beautiful still exist in this world? She paused on a small wooden bridge and looked over the edge into the flowing water beneath.

“Do you think it has trout in it?” she asked Finn. She wasn’t quite able to keep the excitement out of her voice. The thought of a fish dinner had her stomach aching for sustenance.

“I know it does. I see one right there.” Finn pointed.

“Colony tour later. Business first,” Sean called from up ahead of them.

The end of the trail brought them to the front steps of a cabin much larger than the others they’d seen. She was panting like a freight train and feeling light-headed by the time they arrived.

“Geez, Laney. Forget the Deads. It’s a little hike uphill you have to worry about,” Mitchell teased.

“It’s the altitude,” Finn defended her. “The air is thinner and it will take some conditioning to get used to it.”

The front door opened, and a tall woman in her mid-thirties stepped out to greet them. Her medium brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her smile was easy, natural and unforced. Her jogging outfit was a light blue color, and it made her bright green eyes seem animated and bright.

“I’m Melony Benton. You can call me Mel, though. Everyone around here does,” she said. “Welcome to Dead Run River.”

Well that was surprising. “Dead Run River? I thought this was the Blue River colony.”

“Ah,” Mel said with a smile. “The town was originally called Blue River before the outbreak. The new name came later when we started setting up a colony. When we started building this place, Deads were attracted to the water for some reason we still haven’t figured out. It seemed every Dead from any town around here gathered at the same place, all along the river’s edge. Like they were waiting for something. It was quite the job to thin them out. The Deads ran this place in the early days. People started calling it Dead Run River and wondered if we would ever be able to set up here. Humans persevered, but the name stuck.” She studied everyone as she spoke, and when she finished her eyes fell on Sean. “Good to see you again,” she said with sincerity. “Though I thought it would be a while until your next visit. You were just here a week ago.”

Something on Sean’s face made the woman’s green eyes fill with worry. “Come in, please.” She led them into the great room of the large home and turned to Laney. “First things first. Let me see it.”

Sean nodded to her in encouragement, and she lifted the hem of her shirt until her unbandaged bite was exposed.

“Mel,” Sean said in a low voice. “She’s Laney Landry.”

The woman’s green eyes snapped up to Laney’s face. “Is this what it looks like, then?” The woman gestured to her side.

She nodded. “The Dead that bit me died almost instantly.”

“That’s not all, Mel,” Sean offered earnestly. “Her blood, it brings back their minds. She can’t do anything for their bodies, but for a few minutes, they are themselves again.” His face took on a grim and haunted look. “I’ve seen it.”

“Well, it’s actually a cruel thing to do to them,” Laney said, trying to stifle the excited look on Mel’s face. “But if you have a doctor or anyone really who can try to start figuring me out, I’m at a point where I’d be willing to be a lab rat for a while.”

“Why now?” Mel asked curiously.

“I made a promise to someone.”

Mel knelt back down to examine her healing bite.

Laney cleared her throat in search of anything that would clear her head of her persistent thoughts of Jarren. Mel’s home wasn’t the place to cry.

Hello, leader of Dead Run River. It seems you have heard a lot about me. I’d like to squash that by blubbering uncontrollably on your shoulder.
Nope.

“Beautiful house you have,” she said instead as Mel gestured for everyone to take a seat on the comfortable looking couch and chairs around a great stone fireplace.

“Thank you. I decorated it myself. Believe it or not, this is the house I lived in before the outbreak. I used to be a ski instructor in the winters and I would pick up a couple of jobs in the summers down in Breckenridge. For me, this place was paradise. Still is in some ways.” She took a seat in a large dark leather chair across from them. “I think being a native and a survivor and knowing the area so well is what established me as leader of the Dead Run River colony.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Sean interjected. “You are the leader here because you are capable. People flock to your colony, and even choose to settle right outside of it because you are a natural at providing structure and safety for them.”

“Flatterer,” she laughed.

Sean shrugged unapologetically.

“I must say,” Mel said, turning her attention back to her. “You look so much like your picture. Whoever drew your likeness must have had real talent.”

What in Hades was that woman talking about? Laney looked to her team, who seemed to be exactly as confused as she was. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Are you saying you have a picture of me?”

Mel smiled attractively. “Follow me. I have something to show you.”

Chapter Eleven

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, which was exactly as one would expect such a room to look like, except for one thing. The largest wall of the rectangular room was completely covered with lists, pictures, letters, and pleas. Organized chaos at its best. Most colonies had a bulletin board to try to reunite friends and family members that had gone missing or been separated. Most went sadly unanswered, but everyone living had heard a tale or two about the success stories. The boards gave people hope.

Mel walked directly over to the left hand side of the wall and plucked a small, gray piece of paper from the pin that held it securely in place. She handed it to Laney. On it was a simple picture of her and Adam. It had brief descriptions of them both and a short plea that gave directions on how Adam Leary could get in contact with Laney Landry, who was searching for him.

She crumpled the paper against her chest as her heart shattered into a million shrapnel fragments. The picture of the man she thought she’d marry was so unexpected that for a split second, all she had been through promised to become too much.

Mitchell had drawn the flyers up in the beginning, and they had sent them with everyone they knew to be traveling in different directions. All had gone unanswered.

If she talked quietly, maybe the shake in her voice wouldn’t be so noticeable. “May I please throw this away?”

“But why? I mean—” The woman opened her mouth to say more but seemingly changed her mind and switched directions. “This drawing made it to the Breckenridge colony. When Breck fell, we recovered the board and it was the beginning of our own.”

She nodded and swallowed hard as she handed the picture to Mitchell. History or not, she didn’t want it. “You can do whatever you want with it, Mitchell. May I use your restroom?” she asked.

“Sure,” Mel said. “There’s an outhouse in the back.”

“Thanks.”

She ignored Mel’s directions and veered toward the river. Darkness had fallen, but the moon was full and enough light filtered through the thick trees for her to see. She washed her hands and face in the frigid snow-melt waters. She wiped her face dry on the bottom hem of her shirt and pulled clean, pine-scented air into her lungs once. Twice. She clasped her shaking hands together to steady them. The gooseflesh on her arms told her that though it may still be early autumn, the nights in the mountains would be bone chillingly cold.

A deep and familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. “Guist and I are going to work for a jacket for you first thing. You’ll get sick in weather like this.”

She tried to smile her thanks to Mitchell, not bothering to stand. His tiny, perfect nipples were puckered tightly against the thin shirt that covered them. “You need one too.”

“True, but you are more important. You know, being the cure and all.”

She snorted. “I’m nobody’s cure.”

“You okay?” he asked her after a few moments of contented silence.

Genuine concern from Mitchell was new and uncharted territory. She must have looked even more pathetic than she felt. “It was just unexpected, you know? I haven’t seen Adam’s face in so long.”

“I know,” he said simply. “Come on.”

He pulled her hand and held it as he led her through the back door of Mel’s house. His hand was strong and warm, and somewhat disturbingly comforting. When they were back in Mel’s great room, Mitchell motioned for her to take his seat closest to the fire and he took her seat on the couch next to Finn and Guist.

Guist filled them in. “Sean is speaking with Mel in private to talk about what happened to his colony. Mel said her second in command is coming in to give us housing assignments and take job assignment applications. She’s going to set up a meeting with the colony doctor first thing in the morning and she’ll hand out our official job assignments tomorrow.”