The Beast Within (11 page)

John pushed in with little delay. She scooted forward on the countertop to help and they met in the middle. She moaned as he bottomed out within her. Damn, that felt good. No man had ever fit her like John did.

He began to move almost immediately, his big hands anchoring her on the edge of the countertop. Without his support, she probably would have tumbled from her precarious perch, but John was big and strong. His body blocked her from the front and his muscular arms bracketed her. She felt safe and protected…and well loved, if only in a physical sense.

The way he protected her and his gentle touch made her almost dare to hope there was some emotional component in their relationship, but she couldn’t be absolutely sure. John wasn’t one for discussing his emotions and she didn’t dare bring up the subject. Their relationship—if that was the right word for this crazy fling—was too new to test with such a weighty topic.

“Won’t be long,” he warned her, panting as he sped up his pace. She moved with him as best she could in her position, adding counterpoint that drove them both higher. He was right. It wouldn’t be long. She was so close to rapture she could taste it.

“John!” She cried out his name as she came hard, a series of spasms rocketing though her body. His hands gripped her, fingers tightening hard enough to leave bruises, but she didn’t care. His strength only added to her pleasure as she heard his harsh groan and felt his body join hers in bliss.

Long moments later, John disengaged and lifted her into his arms. She was half asleep as he carried her into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. She thought she felt him kiss her brow as he tucked her beneath the blanket.

D
onna was sound asleep in his arms when night fell in earnest. She’d had a long day of worry and travel. He decided to let her sleep as he slid out of bed and suited up for a quick look around the woods. Now that he’d been cleared to join the combat team, he wanted to get a bead on the area, strategizing in his mind the most likely avenues of attack and places to hide. He had to see the surrounding forest at night. The way the enemy would see it.

Now was his chance. And if he ran into one of the zombies while he was out, so much the better. He’d take it out before it could threaten anyone else. Donna would be safe enough in the cabin. John wouldn’t go far. He’d left her a weapon and locked her securely inside. She’d be okay until he got back.

John headed down to the lake first. That would be his point of reference. The moon had risen over one side of the haunted lake. A thick blanket of fog lay on the surface, like smoke rising from the water. It rippled as a precocious wind tickled the surface here and there.

“That’s certainly creepy enough,” John muttered under his breath, taking a moment to appreciate the full effect.

He dismissed the strange weather from his mind as he turned back to locate the cabin through the trees. He’d left a night-light on in the front room, and with that faint glow as his guide, it was easy to spot their temporary home away from home.

Triangulating from the cabin and the lake toward the boundary with the Bemkey estate, John did a thorough walk-through of the woods. He’d done it before in daylight, but everything looked different at night. Somewhat to his disappointment, he didn’t come across any zombies. For whatever reason, there was none to be found in the area at that moment.

Deciding he’d been gone long enough, John went back to the cabin and let himself in. Donna was still asleep when he slid back into bed next to her warm body. She had the softest skin. He remembered stroking her hair and shoulder for a while before sleep claimed him again.

Something woke Donna in the middle of the night. For a moment, she was surprised by the warm, hard body in the bed next to her. Then she remembered the night before with John. She could feel her cheeks heat in the cool night air as a little thrill of memory shivered through her body.

It turned to something else when she realized what had woken her. She heard something. Outside.

Tip-toeing out of the bed, Donna went to the window to see what she could out in the darkness under the trees.

She gasped. A zombie faced her, not five feet from her window. Then she recognized the sound. It was that inhuman moaning sound that had woken her, growing nearer the cabin. She froze for a split second before her brain kicked in.

She jumped back from the window and turned to the bed to wake John, but he was already up. He had two pistols in his hands and was loading them with the special dart ammunition. She hadn’t even heard him get out of the bed.

“Here.” He handed her one of the pistols and she took it automatically.

She was becoming more comfortable with the pistol the more she handled it. She’d shot rifles with her father and other weapons from time to time but never something like this. Luckily, she’d proven herself a decent shot when they’d tested, then trained her back at the base.

“Guard the door. I’ll take care of this and then we’ll go together to check the rest. Dress if you can. Shoes are most important.” John stepped in front of her as he spoke in a rapid, urgent voice. He wore only his boxers and partially laced boots. He raised the window sash enough to get the barrel of the pistol out and began to fire.

After hitting the creature with four darts in rapid succession, he turned back to her. She’d tugged on her T-shirt and sneakers in record time.

“What now?” she asked, her voice noticeably shaky despite her best attempts to pretend she was as calm as he was under fire.

“We check the rest of the windows first. See if we can get them—if there are more—from here before we go out in the open.” He opened the door and eased in front of her, striding boldly forward, checking each window.

When they reached the main room of the cabin, he went to the largest window and sent her to the smaller side windows with a pointed glance. She caught her breath as she noticed two more zombies emerging from the woods about ten yards away. She looked at John for guidance, but he was already firing out his partially open window. She followed his example.

Reaching out with trembling hands, she raised the window sash, fumbling only a little. She sank down and took aim, firing as quickly as she could. They were getting too close.

“Split up your shots if you can,” John instructed. “Four shots in each and spread them around.”

“Got it.” She was proud when her voice only quavered a little. She set to work, doing her best to make every dart count. She had just plugged two darts in each of her targets when another started walking toward the cabin through the woods. “John, there’s another one.” She heard the fear in her own voice.

“I see him.” Their windows were at ninety-degree angles to one another. John was firing at multiple targets, but she didn’t dare spare a glance to see how many. She had enough work cut out for herself with the two she was working on and the third on the way.

She gave each of the first two one more round each. She had two more darts in the clip. Should she use the last two darts in the clip for the first two zombies or try to get them into the other one? The moment of indecision cost her. All three were getting closer.

“Four in each, babe. Finish off the first two and we’ll work on the third together.” John took the decision out of her hands and she was thankful. She followed his directions thankfully.

“I need to reload.” She was still breathing rapidly, but John’s steady presence helped her focus.

“Catch.” He tossed her a fresh clip and only then did she realize he’d clutched a few spares in one of his hands.

It took her longer to reload than John. She wasn’t a marksman like him, but she managed. When she looked up again, the third creature was nearly to the front porch. Her racing pulse spiked up a notch. The other two were gone. Thank heaven. She hadn’t seen them fall, but there was no other explanation for where they might’ve gone. She’d hit them with the toxin from far enough away that there’d been time for the toxin to work.

Not so with the third zombie. He didn’t even have one dart sticking out of him yet and he was altogether too close if she was any judge.

“John?” He must’ve heard the fear in her voice.

“Hang in there, baby. I’m almost done with these five. We’ll get the other one together, just like I promised, but we need to get the rest under control first or we’ll be totally overrun before we can blink.”

She fired as he talked and hit the third zombie twice in rapid succession. The shots weren’t too widely spaced, but she’d do better. She had to do better. From what she’d been told, spacing the shots out around the torso and legs helped spread the toxin faster. At least, that was the theory. She’d hit her target twice near the left shoulder. It would take awhile for it to spread from there and she needed at least another two darts in the thing before there would be enough of the toxin to take it down.

“John.” His name dragged out as she fired another round, hitting the creature in the stomach this time. Better.

The creature veered off, away from her. She couldn’t get another shot. “John, he’s—” She looked toward him, but he was gone and the front door stood ajar. “Oh, no!” She ran toward the door only to find John facing down the zombie, darting him from point-blank range.

The zombie swiped at him, advancing on John. It was a hell of a sight. John wore only half-laced combat boots and a pair of bright white boxers. He walked backward as the zombie advanced, staying a foot ahead of the ugly yellow claws that had once been fingernails.

Donna scanned the trees behind him, but thankfully there were no more of the creatures. At least none that she could see from her vantage point. She stepped onto the porch and perched at the edge of the top stair. John had led the creature away from the cabin a few feet, off the main dirt pathway that led to the lake and into the grass that bordered the tree line. John walked backward, a step at a time, keeping a vigilant eye on the zombie as it followed his lead.

“Stay back, Donna,” he ordered. “Stay on the porch in case there are more of them. This guy should be going down any minute now.”

“Be careful, John.” She dared not talk above a low whisper.

Her warning came a moment too late. As if in slow motion, she saw John’s loose bootlace get caught on a fallen branch, tripping him up. He fell hard on his ass and the zombie bent over him, clawing his chest as John scrambled to recover.

“John!” She came down off the porch, raising her pistol but she didn’t dare fire until she had a clear shot. She couldn’t take the chance of hitting John. Besides, the thing already had the required four darts sticking out of his gray flesh. Shooting him with another dart wouldn’t do any good. The toxin still required a certain amount of time to work.

The zombie appeared to be winning. As she ran toward the struggling pair on the ground, she saw that the creature had John pinned. Her heart in her throat, she tried to think of a way to help. The monster had been a big man in life. He easily weighed twice what she did. There was no way she could pull him off John, but she had to try.

Just as she approached to give what little help she could, John pulled his knees up for leverage and rolled, throwing the zombie off him.

A second later, it dissolved on the ground, leaving behind a pile of ruined clothes and a sticky residue. John lay on the ground nearby, catching his breath for just a second before he climbed to his feet. He had slashes diagonally down one side of his chest that were bleeding, but not heavily, much to her relief.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” she asked quickly.

“Just my wounded pride. Damn, my butt hurts.” He dusted off his now dirt-stained boxers and gave her a rueful, lopsided grin. “Get up on the porch and keep a lookout while I do a sweep of the area. It’s close to dawn. Chances are they’re going to ground for the day.”

“What about your chest?”

He dismissed her question with a shake of his head. “It’s not bad.” He ran one dirty finger over his chest near the quickly closing gashes. “Son of a gun. I heal fast now. Guess that answers the question about whether the immunity treatment worked.” That lopsided grin was back, stronger than before. “Get up there now. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Stay sharp. Just don’t shoot me when I come back. I’m the one with the white flag on my ass.”

He pointed to his boxers and she had to admire his humor. Grace under fire was this man’s middle name. He took a moment to secure his trailing bootlaces so they wouldn’t trip him up again and set off silently around the perimeter of the building, his pistol leading the way.

Donna waited for him on the porch, fear in every breath. The sky was beginning to lighten, which gave her hope. So far, the creatures had shunned daylight. When the sun came out, they should be safe.

He came back, making more noise than he usually did. He probably knew she was still jumpy and was making certain she wasn’t going to shoot him accidentally.

“Clear,” he called softly through the grayness of predawn as he approached the cabin. His steps were calm, yet smooth and rapid. He mounted the small staircase and reached for her arm. “You okay?”

She looked upward to meet his concerned gaze and nodded. “Are they gone?”

“Yeah. Either that was all of them or the dawn scared away any others that were with them. We should be okay now.”

She led the way back into the cabin. He locked the door behind them and followed her to the small kitchen area. She dampened some paper towels and turned to swipe gently at the stripes of blood on his chest. The blood was all that was left of the gashes. Not even a red line hinted that he’d been clawed. His skin had healed completely in the short time since the attack. Even though she’d seen similar speed-healing on her own body, she was still taken aback by it.

She said nothing as she bathed his chest, washing away the blood. When he was clean, she stepped into his open arms, needing the hug he so freely gave.

“I’m such a wimp.” She hiccupped once as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

He burst out laughing.

“Sorry.” He bit back his laughter. “You are the most un-wimpy woman I know, Donna.”

“Yeah, right. Any woman on the team is way braver than me.”

“They’re all pretty formidable, but you’re no slouch, Donna. I’ve fought at your side. I know.”

She drew away from him to meet his gaze. “If you say so. I think you’re just being nice. But I will admit I’m getting a little better. I only froze for a few seconds before.”

“You did good, sweetheart. You took out your targets and followed direction. You’re a good little soldier.”

She chuckled at his teasing tone, but his words and the look in his eyes made her feel better. She reached up and wove her fingers through his hair, coaxing his head downward. Their lips joined. She may have initiated the kiss, but John deepened it, making it grow from something innocent and light to something hot and molten. When he finally lifted his head, she was breathless.

“Come on.” He tugged on her hand as he led her toward the bedroom. “I doubt we’ll be able to go back to sleep after that, but it’s worth a try.”

“Are you sure we’re safe?”

He looked out the window. “It’s dawn. They’re gone.” He snagged his phone out of his shirt pocket as they entered the bedroom. He’d left it hanging over a chair back earlier. “I should call in the cleanup guys. It’ll take them the better part of an hour to get here. I should also report the increased activity to Commander Sykes. It won’t take long.”

He kept her hand in his as he sat on the edge of the bed and hit the speed-dial with one hand. He spent less than a minute on the line with the cleanup guys, then disconnected and hit another speed-dial button. This time, the call connected with Matt Sykes, back at the base in North Carolina.