Project Terminal: End Game (6 page)

He clamped his teeth together, garnering what little control he had left. “You’re a wicked woman, darlin’.”

She didn’t answer and focused on his groin. He took himself in hand and stroked base to tip, her hot gaze on him all the while. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood as he jerked off. When he neared climax, he paused, sucking in deep breaths.

Her eyes narrowed. “Keep going.”

“If I do, I’ll come.”

“No, you won’t.”

She was testing him to see how far she could push.

“Enough of this.” He dropped to his knees and grabbed one of her shoes, yanking it off, doing the same with the other. “Now, are you going to shed those jeans or do I have to rip them off you?”

She wriggled out of her jeans and panties, then pitched aside her bra. Her body was glorious. Not as cut as she had been in the program, but she still had lean, toned muscle rippling beneath her creamy skin. The trimmed thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs was as he remembered, and he buried his face between her legs. Delving his tongue within her slit, smearing her sweet juices over his lips. She bucked, crying out, grabbing at his hair. He couldn’t get enough, and devoured her, working her clit and labia until she threw her forearm over her mouth. Her muffled scream of release was music to his ears. He lifted over her, wedging his hips between her thighs. Her eyes widened as he tested her entrance.

* * * *

The orgasm had been incredible and she still rode its waves as Morris pushed inside her walls. She took him more easily than before, her pussy slick and ready. His cock renewed the cooling heat within her core. She spread wider, inviting him deeper, arching against him. He started a slow rhythm, stoking the fire to a fevered pitch. She raked her nails over his back before clutching his shoulders. Her side ached where she’d been shot, and a rock dug into her lower back, but she ignored the discomfort. Nothing could compare with the heights she rocketed toward.

“Oh, darlin’. Oh fuck, darlin’, I’m barely holding it together.” His voice strummed along her nerve endings, sending her to the edge.

He caught her mouth, kissing her deeply and swallowing her cry just as she crested. He shoved into her hard and his body shuddered. He growled and collapsed over her, keeping his weight on his forearms. His hot breaths fanned her face as she tried to catch her own. She gave herself over to bliss, closing her eyes. He nuzzled the side of her neck before he moved away, leaving her empty.

“You’re bleeding.”

His concern cut through the post-sex haze. She looked down to her wound and noted the scarlet color of her bandages. He lifted the corner, peeking inside.

“I think you’re okay, just seepage. I’m sorry, Amelia.”

She covered his hand with hers. “For what? I’m fine.”

He reached up and cupped her cheek, the look in his eyes doing funny things to her insides. “I’d never want to hurt you. Not in any way.”

A cold breeze blew between them, breaking gooseflesh out over her skin. With it came a rank smell. Another dead animal, this time so strong she nearly gagged. Morris tensed, pushing away from her and grabbing his pants.

“What do you think that is?” she asked him, collecting her own clothing. Regretting they had to break whatever kind of moment they’d been in.

He turned a slow circle, searching through the trees. “I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Amelia had to admit, she did too.

Chapter 10

Amelia and Morris followed the stench for about a mile before they caught sight of movement down the canyon. Amelia’s heart dropped. “What the hell is that?” she asked.

He grabbed her upper arm, pinching the muscle and making her wince. “We have to get back to the cabin. Now. I think I’ve figured out their end game.”

She balked, still not sure what she saw. A cluster…
no, a swarm
moving up the mountain side. It looked like people. Lots of people, maybe fifty in all, running uphill toward them. He pulled harder, and she stumbled to follow him.

“The undead,” he said breaking into a jog. “They’ve turned loose a mob of undead on us.”

She trotted to catch up. “What? Why would they do something so risky?”

“Who the fuck knows.”

Gonsalves met them midway. “There are about fifty undead on the way.”

“We know,” Morris said, stopping in front of the other soldier.

“What’s the plan?” Amelia asked.

Gonsalves’s gaze cast down to her wound. “You’re bleeding. You okay?”

She looked down, finding a dark stain on her fresh shirt where she’d bled through the bandages. “I’m fine.”

Gonsalves frowned. “That’ll draw the undead like a magnet, you need to get back and have Max clean it out.”

Amelia covered the spot with her hand. “I think we’re in deep shit regardless.”

They hurried back to the cabin. Once they’d told Max and Laura, the two nearly panicked.

“How are we going to handle so many?” Max asked, her voice strained.

Laura’s wide eyes shone with fear. “We need to leave.”

“Exactly, I’m getting you out of here.” Gonsalves moved to the bed.

“And what if they catch you in the car? Or even in one of the SUVs?” Morris asked. “You won’t stand a chance, they’re almost on us.”

The fluttering of fear stole low in Amelia’s belly, but she shoved it aside. She was a soldier, and trained for the impossible.

“Morris is right, we have strength in numbers.” Her mind worked quickly and she turned to Max. “First, whatever you’ve managed to accomplish, you need to get into Reed’s Jeep.”

“Right.” Max started gathering things, shoving them into bags.

“We’ll need better weapons than a few guns and a couple of knives.” Reed looked around. “After what happened in Mississippi, I can’t believe I didn’t come better prepared.”

“I used the only charges I had on Headquarters.” Gonsalves sounded disgusted.

“The gas cans,” Amelia began. “We can refill them from one of the vehicle gas tanks outside and use them as incendiary devices.”

“On it.” Gonsalves left the room.

“Let’s collect every container we have to fill with gasoline. We’ll fire bomb the bastards,” Reed added.

“I can help.” Laura tried to maneuver around her oxygen tubes then yanked it off her face.

Max ran to her side. “No, Laura, you’re too weak.”

She glared back at the other woman. “I’ve been face to face with these zombies. No way in hell I’m sitting here helpless.”

Max pursed her lips and shoved her glasses back up her nose. “Good point, on the helpless part.” She looked to Reed who’d gathered an armload of used water bottles from a waste bin. “Give us a job.”

“Your job is to stay in here and be safe.”

She squared off with the soldier. “Like hell I am, Preacher. You can’t expect us to sit here waiting to die.”

He blew out a breath. “Fine, empty the rest of the water bottles. We’ll siphon enough gas until they’re all filled.”

“And we’ll need rags to stuff in the tops to light on fire, right? Like in the movies?” Laura asked.

“Yes,” Amelia answered. “Cut strips of material this long.” She held apart her hands and the two women nodded.

“We’re on it,” Max said, moving to grab a sheet off the bed.

Amelia walked outside. They had perhaps minutes left before they were attacked. Five minutes at most to come up with a brilliant plan and save all their lives. Not that she alone needed to shoulder the burden. She watched the men working, Morris helping Gonsalves siphon gas from the car, Reed piling water bottles just outside the cabin’s doorway. Her heart thudded a steady rhythm beneath her ribs; she felt surprisingly calm considering what she’d face soon. Of course she had to keep her head together for the sake of the civilians in the cabin.

* * * *

Fear gnawed at Gabe’s insides. Not for himself, but for the women. Amelia included. He knew Amelia to be competent, but it didn’t change things for him. He needed to keep her safe, and after what had transpired between them it weighed more heavily on him than he’d expected.

They worked quickly, filling both gas cans then taking them to Max and Laura to fill water bottles with the fuel. Reed had taken position in a tree, keeping watch for the first undead to appear. Amelia finished cutting strips of cloth to stuff in the ends of the bottles for ignition.

Gabe heard Reed’s shrill whistle of warning and his stomach dropped. Loud pops from Reed’s rifle followed, he’d fell as many as his ammo allowed before they reached the cabin.

Gonsalves snatched his Glock out of his back waistband. “Get in the cabin and stay in there,” he said, pointing to Laura.

She narrowed her eyes, but Max grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, shutting the door after them. More than anything Gabe wanted Amelia to join the two, but she already had her sidearm out, checking the clip before shoving it back in its holster.

“Let’s do this,” she said.

“I’ll take out as many as I can with the gas bombs before we use our sidearms.” Gabe pulled a lighter from his pocket and grabbed a filled bottle reeking with the strong odor of fuel.

The first walking corpse appeared at a dead run for them, lips pulled back from broken teeth. Ragged and soiled clothing gave it the appearance of a homeless man. Gabe lit the makeshift fuse in the bottle and hurled it, catching the undead in the face. The gasoline burst from the bottle and flames erupted, engulfing the monster. It squealed and stumbled sideways into another undead, a woman, setting fire to her as well. He threw bottle after bottle, the awful odor of burnt flesh and death filling the area. Gonsalves took out the stragglers. Amelia moved to the opposite side of the cabin, ready to take out any undead that got past Gonsalves and Gabe.

They kept swarming from the trees, until Gonsalves emptied his clip, and Amelia had to take his position while he snagged another.

“There are too many,” she said to Gabe who’d used the last of the firebombs and had to revert to his gun. “We can’t keep them back from the cabin.”

A crazy plan formed in Gabe’s mind. “Gonsalves,” he called out over his shoulder. “Get Max and Laura in Reed’s SUV and get the fuck out of here.”

“You two can’t take them alone,” Gonsalves shouted.

“We’re going to get them inside the cabin then blow the generator,” Gabe answered. Amelia shot a look toward Gabe then nodded.

“Do it!” she shouted toward Gonsalves. “It’s the best chance we got.”

Gonsalves spewed a round of curses. Amelia moved her attention back to the swarm, quickly reloading a new clip. Her face held no hint of fear, and her hands were steady as she aimed her weapon, as if she were merely out for target practice. Respect swelled inside of Gabe, mixing with other feelings he didn’t have time to focus on. The SUV started, and tires spinning on gravel sounded behind them.

“Douse the place with what’s left in the gas cans. Leave a trail to the generator and get behind a tree. Get ready to blow it when I give the signal. I’ll draw as many as possible inside the cabin,” Gabe said, ready to see his plan through. “They’ll all try to get a piece of me.”

“What? How will you get out before the place catches fire?”

“Let me worry about that.” Perhaps he could make it through the back window, perhaps not.

She shot him a wide-eyed look. “I’m not letting you go on a suicide mission.”

“We need bait, and I’m the biggest bait we have.”

“No, Morris, it’s not going to happen.”

“Goddamn it, there’s no way these devils are laying a hand on you, St. James.”

“You’re not doing this, Gabe.”

“I care too much about you to let you get hurt.”

“I care too much about you to let you die.” Her voice broke on the last word.

They were in a stalemate, and with the undead closing in around them, out of options.

Chapter 11

Gabe couldn’t let the undead get past the cabin. If they made their way to the nearby city, all hell would break loose. He was a soldier, and as a soldier knew his life might come to end in the line of duty.

“This is all we have left to do, Amelia. Please. If they get past us and into the civilian population, you know what that’ll mean.” He cast her a pleading look.

Her chin jutted. “Fuck no, I won’t let you martyr yourself.”

She reached beneath her shirt and ripped off her bandages. Red spurted from the reopened bullet hole. Snarls came from the undead that’d paused, scenting the air, catching the ripe scent of blood.

“God damn it, Amelia.”

She dashed inside the cabin. With no time to argue, he cursed and grabbed one of the gas cans. He poured the remaining fluid over the back of the house, leaving a trail to the generator.

“Be ready to get the hell out of there!” he called out.

“Get to it, Morris,” she yelled back.

He stood behind a tree and leveled his gun on a weak spot in the big metal generator. He’d never been a religious man, but he said a silent prayer to whoever may listen.

The odor of Amelia’s blood drew the undead straight to her, and they swarmed into the cabin, squealing and hissing like the rabid animals they were. They’d taken out thirty, but with close to twenty left, Amelia didn’t have much time. Her M9 fired over and over, trying to hold back the hoard crowding in on her.

Gabe aimed his gun. The shot rang out, and in the blink of an eye the generator blew. Flames erupted and within moments lapped up the side of the cabin. A window shattered and he ran toward the sound.

“Shut the damned door before they get out!” Amelia shouted after diving through the windowpane.

He ran to the door, shooting the few monsters unable to fit into the one room space. He flicked the inside lock on the doorknob before slamming the door shut. Surely the undead couldn’t work out a locked door. He heard Amelia firing and jogged around the cabin to meet her. The fire ate away at the cabin’s exterior, and wails sounded from the monsters inside. Amelia picked off the few that tried to escape through the broken window.

The two of them stood back, watching the place burn to the ground. After the worst of the flames subsided, Gabe turned to Amelia and wrapped his arms around her, needing her close to know she was safe.