“Your spirit whispers in Dirk’s mind.” The medicine man narrowed his weather-beaten eyes. “Also, you have been bitten several times but didn’t become a dead walker.”
“Yes, but…”
Dirk interrupted. “We can’t stay long. We’ll exchange a couple rifles for fresh clothing.”
Coyote Woman shook her head. “Feel free to take what you need.” She turned to Dora. “You are slender and will have plenty of clothes to choose from.”
Dora smiled. “Thank you.”
A hawk landed on a fence. The medicine man turned to the raptor. “Ed, shift and take them to the mall.”
The hawk flew inside the building and within minutes returned as a young adult of maybe seventeen, wearing jeans, cowboy boots and a t-shirt with the New Mexico football team logo.
Dora stared and whispered to Dirk, “How cool was that?”
He quirked a smile. “Doc, you haven’t seen anything yet.” The rest of the onlookers went about their business as they followed Ed into the former casino. Dirk sniffed. Most were shifters, but a handful were human.
The automatic doors swished opened and Dirk flinched from the residual cloying smell of tobacco and hard liquor that accosted his sensitive nose. He’d always hated casinos. His werewolf senses could never handle the overload of smells, noise, and strong human emotions of despair and disappointment. There were no flashing lights, no loud ping of coins falling from slot machines, and no crowds of gamblers, a reminder that with the apocalypse, surviving, not winning riches was the new greed. Rifles, guns and ammo, ready for war rather than games of chance adorned the empty card tables.
They reached the mall entrance located at the end of the casino and walked up a frozen escalator to the second floor. Four teenagers sat at a candy store playing cards in the otherwise lifeless mall. The great American pastime place to gather and buy material goods needed or not, now a thing of the past. No mellow music to lure people to buy played. Instead Guns N’ Roses’
Paradise City
blasted from the mall speakers. Good choice. He enjoyed hard rock bands from the 80’s and 90’s.
Dora quipped, “Funny, how in all the zombie movies I’ve seen, the living dead appeared compelled to return to the mall. However, research proved zombies had no such ties to their past desires. Their primary instinct is finding human flesh not window shopping.”
Dirk sighed. “Most were stuck in cities or on highways. Later, quiet suburbs became a breeding ground for zombie infestation. Home, not so sweet, home.”
Ed shrugged. “When the dead walker virus hit, people quit going to crowded places. Malls, movie theatres, and sport stadiums were abandoned. Then schools closed and toward the end, hospitals. Only raiders try to loot us. Raiders found our home, but when they realized we were armed, they turned and ran like cowards.”
“Surely some of these raiders are friendly?” asked Dora.
Ed shook his head. “These gangs emerged from cities and hick towns. Former drug cartels and hate groups armed to the teeth. On my scouting flight, I spotted a gang of eight initiating a new member. Chubby man, about thirty, maybe more. They put him in a corral with five zombies and a single ax.”
Dora raised her brow. “So what happened?”
“He failed.”
Dora paled. “Oh, that sucks.”
Ed turned to Dirk. “My grandfather says we might join the Consortium, just to exchange goods.”
Dirk smiled. “You would be welcomed.” Native American shifters had never fully integrated with the shifters originally from Europe. During early colonization, most white shifters lived near the British and European conquerors but out of choice kept out of human politics.
Dora’s eyes widened and she cheered above the din of the loud electric guitar solo. “You have all my favorite boutiques.” She went into the first and shuffled through the rack of blue jeans.
Dirk followed. Women were all the same. Born with the shopping gene. The sign on the glass read 100% Off Everything. He laughed. “Must be the post-apocalypse special.”
“Sure beats the zombie tattered grunge look,” she said as she sized up a pair of name brand jeans. “These would have cost more than a night on the town a few weeks ago.”
I’d spend more than that on a date with you, babe.
“Take your time. I’m going to the men’s section.” As much as he hated not having her under his watchful eyes, the mall was safe. No zombies and no werewolf witch hunters. Anyway, if she faced danger she could text him telepathically.
She smiled, with mischievous eyes. “I’ll try a few things on and then meet you, say in an hour?”
He gave her a brusque nod. “Don’t forget to get several pair of shoes.” He turned to Ed. “I’ll need boots.”
He nodded. “I know just the place.”
Before they left Dora, Dirk turned. “Feel free to get a couple of nice dresses.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Pumps if you want them.” With her long legs, she’d be hot in sexy heels. His inner wolf howled.
“Why? Are you taking me to the werewolf winter ball?”
“As a matter of fact, yeah.” The Ravens loved hosting elaborate balls and he imagined her in a sexy little dress with high heels. In fact, the Ravens would love to accept a witch into their fold. Should she join them? His chest tightened, leaving him feeling empty. Now why had that happened? His feelings for her were getting out of control. He, the loner, commitment-phobic alpha who had no love for humans. He enjoyed his freedom from relationships and from pack politics. Still, he couldn’t spend his entire life riding his motorcycle with Fang, hunting the Kindred. He must choose a werewolf mate and be a responsible pack leader. If he did, what would stop her from marrying a human? He winced. The thought of her with another man hurt more than the shocking pulse of a gleipnir collar. The sucker who dared date her had to deal with his inner rabid wolf.
And here I thought I didn’t have a jealous bone in my entire body. I never cared if my lovers slept with others. Hell Dora, why are you complicating my simple life?
He followed Ed as Lenny Kravitz’ version of
American Woman
played. He nodded his head with the beat “American Woman, stay away from me. Mama let me be.”
Dora. His
American Woman
. He couldn’t wait to see her in tight jeans and a form-fitting top. Before they left the women’s section, he grabbed a red silk negligee. Why not? She’d need something to sleep in, he reasoned, but truth was, it was more for his benefit. The hot little number offered little practical value. Dora seemed like the type who would be perfectly happy to sleep in some oversized t-shirt. His inner beast shot him a wolfish grin.
We’ll see about that
. He swallowed before his threatening wolfish drool dribbled down his chin.
He’d best focus on the practical clothes he needed and erase any thoughts of bedding the gorgeous witch/doctor. He found jeans and helped himself to a black pair and blue pair, a few shirts and t-shirts. He dreamingly looked toward the women’s section. Maybe he should have her model so he could give her his opinion? Feel the material around her round ass.
Ed interrupted his horny thoughts. “Actually, across the way is a men’s shoe store.”
He bit back the growl that emanated from below his chest from having his fantasies interrupted and clenched his jaw. “Let’s go.”
Dirk found biker boots in his size and then headed to a leather coats and products store where he grabbed a long jacket, almost like the one he’d worn before his capture. In the women’s section, he found the perfect biker jacket for Dora. She would look hot in it and the leather would keep her warm and provide better protection against zombie teeth. “Hey, Ed, how did you clean out the zombies?”
“When martial law was declared, we closed the casino and blocked the mesa as people were anxious to leave and return home. Once they were gone, we didn’t want any of the infected coming back. Many dead walkers found their way here and we lured them toward a cliff. Bird shifters acted as bait. I stood at the edge and threw myself off. Thousands plunged down as I soared in my hawk form. Most broke their skulls and spines. The ones that still lived were killed and then we burned the bodies.”
“Good technique.”
“Where will you go?” Ed asked.
“California.”
“Are you crazy, man? California has the most people, now dead people.”
“Good point. My pack lives in a very remote region but we plan to regain lost territory. Unfortunately, Dora’s brother and niece are trapped across the bay from San Francisco.”
“I doubt they’re still alive.”
“You’re probably right.” Dora had sensed they lived. Was it her
witchmacallit
or wishful thinking? Although she was a witch, she’d no clue how her powers worked and her instincts couldn’t be trusted. She must face facts. She was alone. The only way to keep her out of Benandanti and zombie danger was to go directly to his pack. If they didn’t accept her, he would take her to the ravens. Once she was safe, he and a few others could search for Josh and little Melanie. He’d made up his mind. Home first. What choice did she have? She couldn’t very well fight off an alpha werewolf and go off on her own.
****
Dora found a watch to keep time. It’d been more than an hour. They had to hit the road and get some miles behind them before it was dark and they pulled over for the night. Every lost moment meant the possibility of losing Josh and Mel.
Walking past the colorful displays that dimmed in the apocalyptic doom, she smiled at a woman who walked into a candle store with her two-year-old son. Was she a shifter? The chief said many were. She shaded her frantic thoughts, and noted a black glow pulse around them, its outline a bird. Raven shifters. Another example of her witchmacallit powers.
Without shoppers, the mall became a virtual ghost town with more mannequins than people. She remembered all the zombie movies where survivors had barricaded themselves inside a mall. Their joy at helping themselves to whatever material object caught their attention soured when one survivor made the wrong turn and got bitten. No military to save the day. No vaccines to cure the pestilence. No happy endings. Soon zombies, driven by their hunger for human flesh, would break in and the movie would end with the hero surviving. But no, before the credits came up the hero would end up trapped and eaten.
These movies were popular because the message comforted the audience. Your life might suck, but at least you don’t have to worry about zombies. She looked out the glass window to the valley. How many people remained locked inside city buildings waiting for help that would never arrive? Josh and Mel were in a wildlife compound. Would that grant them some protection, or would they end up being eaten by hungry tigers? Marti kept a supply of frozen meat, but was her generator even working? Had she released the cats?
A wolfish catcall whistle caught her full attention. “I like how those jeans fit.” Dirk stood outside a salon, his arm leaning against the wall as if posing for GQ magazine.
She gaped at him. Her heart did a flip, no, two flips. What a hunk! He was clean-shaven, his flaming hair neatly combed, and he wore tight fitting black jeans, a light blue mock turtleneck sweater, and a long black leather jacket. His biker boots made him appear taller than his already imposing stature. Viking on a bike. The way he stared at her with predatory alpha eyes made him hotter than hell. Yum. The perfect bad guy, and he was hers. Well, for the moment she could fantasize. He checked her out, like a sailor returning from a long voyage upon seeing his first woman.
Perhaps her jeans were too well fitted, and her v-shaped green long-sleeved shirt too snug. The fine supportive bra she’d found, pushed her breasts up and made them appear bigger than they really were. Maybe she should have donned the running bra she’d packed in the bag? Or at least a bra that hid her aroused nipples? She might as well be naked.
To make matters worse, Dirk released a pleased wolf growl. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, the effects of the full moon are still on me.”
Tempted to read his thoughts, she stopped. Her cheeks flushed. Too afraid he’d discover just how turned on she was. Her fantasy of him carrying her off like Erik from her romance novel, not something she wanted to share. Ever. “Actually, I can’t believe I’m not wearing scrubs.” She spun around, giving him a full view of her. “Not too small I hope.”
He grinned and a hint of fangs escaped his wolfish response, “No babe, in fact, feel free to grab a smaller size.”
Did she just model for him?
Where is Dr. Adler, and can I have her back?
Despite her burning flesh, she lifted her chin and smiled at Ed. “Thank you for the shopping spree, but we best hit the road before sundown.”
Ed looked at her and then at Dirk. “You can stay the night. We have plenty of clean rooms in our hotel casino.” The kid winked at Dirk.
“Up to you, babe.” She frowned and he flashed a wolfish grin. “I mean, Doc.”
“How often will you become a werewolf during the trip?” Being on the road with a horny werewolf was not on her bucket list.
Okay, so it was
.
He shook his head. “Only on the night of the full moon. As an alpha I can remain human on any other night.”
“Then we should go.” To delay another day could mean Josh and Mel’s death. She quickened her pace toward the exit.
“Hold your horses, Doc. Are you sure? We’ll have to off road it most of the way.”
“Even more reason not to delay. We can take turns driving.”
****
Dirk drove, allowing Dora to sleep. The tribe stocked them with a tent, sleeping bags and a couple days worth of real food, including frozen steak and high caloric Indian fry bread. Best of all, he traded an AK-47 for two large machetes. They’d crossed the Arizona state line, that much closer to California. Near Flagstaff, Arizona according to the GPS map. Twilight shifted to a dark gray nighttime. A road sign read, Coconino National Forest. Perfect. He drove past the empty ranger station entrance and noticed a forested area with grazing elk. As good of a place as any to spend the night.