“Good.” She reached for her helmet but he drew her in.
“Dora, know that from this day forth, you are mine.”
She gazed at him with eyes so wide and beautiful they robbed him of breath. “Dirk, is that werewolf for saying, I’m your girlfriend?”
He bent and lovingly kissed his bite on her neck. Smelling, breathing her and tasting her with his tongue then whispered, “Babe, we are definitely an item.” He held her arms and met her eyes. “I know you don’t want a commitment but I think we make a great team.”
She smoothed a finger down the hollow of his throat. “Agreed. We’re good together, both in and out of bed.” She squirmed and bit her lower lip. “Still, what about the witches don’t date werewolves thing?”
“I don’t give a damn about that.”
She curled a mischievous smile. “Fine, but you’ll need to properly ask my big brother for permission to officially court me.”
He shot her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding?”
“No. I’ve always asked his opinion about my previous boyfriends and he’s always been right.”
“And I suppose he’s asked for your opinion about his boyfriends?”
“As matter of fact, yes. I told him Victor was the one.” Her smile vanished and she cast her gaze down.
He held her chin and kissed the tip of her nose. “I promise we’ll find Josh and Melanie by tonight.”
****
He brought the bike to a stop after an uneventful ride through Ocean Beach. They stepped off the bike. Sea gulls flew around as if the apocalypse had never happened. Dora removed her helmet and lowered her shades. “The Golden Gate Bridge.” She breathed in the cool sea breeze. The choppy waters were blue, matching the sunny sky. She’d been expecting thick fog and ghouls lurking in the mist. It was late afternoon and the usual fog must have burned off. Memories of watching boats from her parents’ home filled her eyes with tears. Gone were the sailboats, cruise and cargo ships. Had others escaped by boat? But to where? No island had been safe from Z-phage. According to the last bit of news, she’d heard from Mansfield, islands were the first to succumb.
Dirk sniffed. “Fresh air, but don’t be fooled, their stench is thick.” They got on the Harley and drove toward the bridge.
They’d passed countless zombie swarms along the shore, lurking near beached ships and boats. They represented all lifestyles from dockworkers to business people in power suits and stranded tourists caught in the worst vacation of their lives. Millionaires and the middle class joined the former homeless in a sea of dispossessed zombies. Z-phage, like all forms of pestilence, didn’t discriminate.
By the looks of the once beautiful abandoned marina, no living humans were available to satiate the undead’s hunger. The streets belonged to roaming dogs, even occasional African antelopes, and other exotic beasts from the San Francisco Zoo. Released from their enclosures by well meaning zookeepers, knowing the animals would starve to death if not freed.
How long would the emaciated zombies last without their diet of human flesh? Their brains needed fuel. Was a vaccine even possible? Had the mysterious shifter eliminated the possibility of prevention? Maybe it wasn’t the Protean creature that created the apocalyptic virus. Finding the culprit was less important than stopping Z-phage. Once she settled, she’d study zombie biology.
A swarm stumbled out of a former seaside Irish pub, drunk with the zombie virus rather than Guinness. She gripped Dirk’s waist tighter. The motorcycle accelerated and the zombies reacted with barking moans. They shuffled in a slow pace, failing to get close enough to matter. More like a jellyfish that misses its catch and floats to await another, rather than an intelligent creature who thinks it futile to catch up to a speeding vehicle. The coast was clear of zombies and he slowed the Harley to speaking speed. “I wonder how many are still on the bridge?”
Dirk stopped the Harley and they got off to stretch their legs. He stared at the crashing surf. “Swarms tend to move in search of food. Let’s hope the bridge is abandoned. I bet most of the zombies are in the center of the city, ratting out survivors.”
She shivered at the thought of people hiding in nooks and crannies just like rats. “There must be something we can do to help anyone trapped.”
“The packs plan to but we werewolves are few and we’ll need the cooperation of the entire Mythos Consortium.” Tension creased his face. “I wonder if they found out about the Proteans.”
She removed her helmet. “We may be the only ones that know. The creature must have only gone after human military installations.”
“The shifter may have been only after Mansfield’s lab.”
She raked her hair back as the ocean breeze whipped it about her face. “I doubt it. Something released Z-phage. No lab could have designed such a virus.”
“What about terrorist or the military creating a super biological weapon?”
“Trust me. They’ve already designed bugs with a one hundred percent kill ratio. Why would they want something that didn’t kill immediately or rather so horribly?”
“Good point. Zombifying the world’s population of seven billion people is one big fucking stupid plan.”
“Which makes me wonder if aliens really want to invade our planet and live with ugly pus-filled ghouls as neighbors.”
He cocked an amused brow. “So, Doc, how would you have made room to invade the earth?”
“Hmm. That’s a dark thought, but maybe that’s how we should think. I would use an instant death microbe. So fast and virulent, the populations would succumb in a month, maybe less. Or, make humans vanish like how all the weapons of mass destruction did. Despicable and sick but cleaner.”
He furrowed his brow. “Revenge.”
“Huh?”
“Who or whatever designed the Bane, meant not just to destroy humans but to punish them.”
“I think you’re right. Being eaten alive or having to kill a loved one turned zombie is indeed suffering overkill.”
They snacked and then sped off toward the Golden Gate Bridge. Dirk was right. Without a food source, the zombies had left the road leading to the bridge. Maybe while in search of flesh, the zombie swarms moved toward the Marin side, north of the city. She patted her holster, prepared for battle. Dirk had fixed her jammed gun and they had plenty of ammo. Unfortunately, they’d not bothered getting her a med kit, since every hospital and clinic was infested. Better she wait than risk it. She would be no good to Josh and Mel dead.
They arrived at the bridge and slowed by the tollgate. Both north and south traffic lanes were blocked. Every lane had car crash pile-ups and car doors flung open as people escaped. Junked bicycles and motorcycles blocked the pedestrian lanes. She averted her eyes from the skeletal remains of the eaten dead. Consumption of the brain by zombies, prevented the cannibalized from rising. Those were the lucky ones.
Dirk stopped the Harley. “We’ll have to walk it across.” He gave her a wry smile. “You can stay in your seat.”
“No thank you. I used to jog the bridge and I’d rather stretch my legs. It won’t take long to cross.”
“Let’s do it.” He lifted a few of the blocking bikes and threw them on top of empty cars. Nearby a sign, placed long ago, offered counseling for anyone contemplating suicide. She wondered how many had jumped while being chased by flesh eating zombies. A baby stroller with the strap off on the ledge told of a horrific scenario. Her stomach roiled and she gagged. She bent and vomited.
After she spit the remainder of the vegan food, Dirk gentled a hand on her shoulder. “Dora, get on the bike and close your eyes.” His voice sounded shaken. Not a good thing coming from a nightmarish werewolf.
For once, she wouldn’t argue. He might have seen something worse up ahead. She wiped her lips with her sleeve and nodded. “Let’s go.”
“First, I’m going to get all this crap out of the way.”
She peeked. He used his werewolf strength and speed to clear the last one hundred or so yards of the bridge. Bikes and skeletons he threw into the ocean. A dark premonition made her blood run cold. The loud caw of a raven as it flew over Dirk seemed to warn him. He turned and began racing back to her at breakneck speed.
She looked over her shoulder. A swarm appeared out of nowhere and stepped on the bridge from the San Francisco side. Zombies bunched up like runners at the start of a marathon race, but fortunately moved at a snail’s pace. They scuffled, slowly, many with their heads tilted to the side with out-stretched arms, sniffing and moaning. A few had missing arms, with bloody stumps that hung like butchered headless chickens. A former SFPD officer with a blood-splattered uniform caught her attention. He was older than her brother-in-law, Victor. She sighed as her heart broke. She’d sensed Victor had left the earthly plane, but now a quick vision moved across her mind like a movie clip. Victor had been bitten and had seen a group of people safely aboard a ferry. Before the horde came for him, he shot several ghouls and used his last bullet for himself.
Oh, Victor.
Dirk reached her and shook her. “Dora, snap out of it.”
She focused back on the horde of zombies. “Don’t tell me it’s my scent that draws them here.”
“Babe, your scent is like fresh baked bread and they are heading to the bakery.”
She climbed on the motorcycle. “That must mean I’m the only loaf left.”
He chuckled. “And here I thought San Francisco was known for sourdough. You’re more like sweet French bread.”
“Jeez. Thanks for making me feel like a moving
carb
.”
He climbed on the bike, brought it to life and pressed the accelerator. “Hold on!” The engine roared and they sped across the bridge.
She stared over his shoulder. In front of them, six zombies were shambling and falling from a rocky hill on the north side of the bridge. The large raven she’d spotted earlier cawed a battle cry and dive-bombed the ghouls. Was it a shifter? The zombies ignored the relentless bird, drawn to the smell of human flesh.
Me
.
The bird attacked the nearest zombie by poking his eyes. Blinded, it moved closer to the edge. Seconds later, it fell. The bike zoomed just past the moaning ghouls and then Dirk wheeled it to a stop. He jumped off and strode toward the bridge with his two machetes.
“Dirk, what the hell are you doing?” Why was he bothering with a few when they could have been heading on the road?
He and the raven companioned against the bunch. It pecked and poked. The zombies stumbled and Dirk decapitated them.
Dora gaped. Talk about interspecies cooperation.
Chapter 15
Dirk exhaled a slow breath after decapitating the last zombie. He’d never been happier to see a shifter. He sniffed but couldn’t tell if it was a male or a female raven.
Never been good at that skill.
Even their scent was un-distinguishable
.
At least now, he’d have a messenger to get word to his pack. He ripped off a zombie’s sweat top and wiped his machetes, before climbing back on the bike. “Hold on.” He sped away and drove for about ten minutes, with the raven shadowing from above. When he could no longer hear zombies, he stopped and got off the bike. The raven landed on an oak tree. “Time for introductions.”
He turned to the raven. “I’m Dirk and you are…”
The raven flew to the ground and shifted. She smiled. “Rave, we met briefly a few years ago at the Mythos Consortium. I also saw you recently at Talon’s meeting.” She extended her hand to him for a formal kiss. He took it and gave it a quick peck.
She wore a sexy form-fitting black leather body suit, kick ass tall boots and a feathered ankle-length coat. Unlike mammalian shifters, bird shifters had the ability to materialize the clothes they wore prior to their shift. She wore thick black make-up and her banged short sleek raven hair made her look like the model for Goths R US. Not the natural look he liked but still, hot as hell. He gazed at her as one would a nice painting, however, his lust and feelings were glued to Dora, his mate.
Dora walked up beside him. “Are you going to introduce us?” He sensed her jealousy and he blushed.
“Princess Ravenna of the Corvus Murder, meet Dr. Dora Adler.”
He was being polite but she gave him a scolding look before smiling at the sexy raven. “Just call me Dora.”
The dark-haired woman bowed. “Dora the Aradia witch. Call me Rave.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“We ravens keep a close eye on the Benandanti witch-hunters and I hacked into their computers when the Bane first started. Despite all the apocalyptic chaos, Theo has been hot on your trail.”
Dirk boomed. “What?”
“A killer werewolf is looking for me?” asked Dora, her face turned pallid from the previous red blush.
Dirk drew Dora into his protective arms. “He won’t dare touch you.”
Rave gave him a questioning glance and he shook his head. She turned to Dora. “Grand priest Obadiah was given your location from the Bloodstone.”
Dora lifted a brow. “How exactly does that work?”
“The Bloodstone reveals when a witch’s power first manifests on her twenty-seventh birthday by turning red. While holding the stone the priest goes into a trance and remotely views her location. Alpha Valeray is aware you’re still alive and is obsessed with putting you on trial. Kind of dramatic since we haven’t had a witch burning in what?” She screwed her face in thought. “Four hundred years? He wants to make an example of you before you…get married and have children. The close-minded ass-wipes definitely need to cross that off their list of things to prevent.”
Dirk clenched his jaw. “Obadiah will use the Bloodstone again and find…”
Rave snorted a laugh. “No he won’t.”
Dirk frowned. “And why is that?”
She studied her black painted fingernails and smiled with mischief in her eyes and mirth in her voice. “Ravens have been messing with the Hounds of God here and in Europe.”
Dirk’s voice hardened. “Keep talking.”
“I stole Valeray’s Bloodstone. And in Europe, my future groom, Bram of the Anglia Murder, took it from Pater Alexander.”