Waking Up Dead

eventually though, he came back to the woman. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t quite accept that she was actually sitting next to him. It felt unreal to him and yet…clearly she was not suffering from the same intense emotions that he was. She held her drink in her hand and scowled at something he couldn’t see.

Luke struggled for something, anything, to break the silence, and after a moment settled on her bare legs. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said slowly. “But why the hell are you dressed in panties and boots?”

She lifted her drink, swallowed some more soda, and scowled again. “My jeans got covered in zombie pus and I have an open wound.”

“You’ll freeze.” He made to shuck off of his jacket and pass it across to her, but she waved his offer away.

“I’m fine,” she said. “My jacket is Gore-Tex. Weighs less than a pound, all weather resistant.”

“You’re lucky to have that.”

“It wasn’t luck,” she replied. “I peeled it off a dead woman.”

“How…resourceful.”

She shrugged. “Not resourceful enough, or I wouldn’t be sitting here freezing my ass off.”

Luke felt something completely inappropriate to the situation stir as he imagined that ass and maybe it was lack of sleep, or the weirdness of actually talking to a person, but he couldn’t seem to stop the words that fell from his lips. “You’re welcome to sit on my lap and get warm that way.”

She turned and met his gaze, narrowing her eyes at his teasing words. “You’re welcome to get to know my blade a bit better.”

Luke laughed. He couldn’t help it, and inexplicably, considering their dire situation, felt his spirits rise. Yes she was giving him a death glare, and yes she’d just lost her friend, and yes the zombies were everywhere…but she was so fucking cute. Maybe there were possibilities here, assuming they survived, of course, but then wasn’t that always an assumption?

“I’m Luke by the way,” he said—thinking perhaps he should introduce himself before he really tried to hit on her.

She narrowed her eyes a little more, tilted her head, and then a heart beat or two later, smiled back. A little dimple appeared in the left corner of her face and Luke swallowed, his chest suddenly feeling painfully, and oddly, tight.

“Jackson,” she said.

And then the pounding began.

Chapter Seven

How many were there, Jackson wondered. Five, ten, fifteen? There was no way to know, and with the way her day was going she wouldn’t be shocked to find the entire cast of Firefly, fully zombified, trying to bash their way in. She eyed the vending machine—which was holding firm—and ran her fingers along Mandy’s hilt, comforted in a totally fucked-up way by the feel of the wood. Options played through her mind, plan after plan discarded.

“Is that your last name?”

She looked away from the seemingly unavoidable future kill zone and met Luke’s eyes. Luke who was, she had to admit, a surprise in more ways than one. When she’d first heard his deep, rumbling voice, shock had filled her, and then he’d dragged her through the door, muscles bulging and testosterone seething, and the shock had amplified. Jackson wished she could say it was purely due to the fact that he hadn’t tried to kill her, but that would be a lie. It had an awful lot to do with the fact that he was absolute freaking man candy, almost on a par with the Serenity captain himself. Maybe it was weird thinking that—what with the shitty situation and all, but she couldn’t help it. He was gorgeous. There was no getting around that fact. He was also, clearly, slightly odd. What else could explain the fact that he looked completely relaxed? That he was asking her stupid questions and inviting her to sit on his lap?

“What?”

“I’ve never met anyone called Jackson before,” he said. “It’s a cute name.”

She gaped. “There are zombies pounding on the door.”

He took another swig of his can. “I know.”

“The Lynx didn’t stop them,” she added. “It should have but it didn’t.”

“They must have skipped around it,” he said slowly. “Either that or it’s not strong enough. But look, there’s no point whispering. They know we’re in here.”

Jackson frowned as she realized that was exactly what she had been doing. “Built-in reaction.”

He shrugged. “They won’t leave until they’ve eaten us. Makes no difference keeping the noise down.”

“We’re kinda fucked then.”

“Jackson,” he said, almost like he was testing her name on his lips, “I’ve been fucked so much over the last few months I might as well be a hooker.”

“Not much call for hookers these days.”

“The zombies certainly don’t need them, that’s for sure.”

“Let’s hope not.”

For want of anything better to do, Jackson drank some more of her soda. The caffeine hit her system and her stomach gurgled. Christ, if she wasn’t careful, she’d need to pee soon, and there was nowhere to actually do so. Nowhere that didn’t include Luke.

She placed the can on the floor, next to his, and eyed him in the same way she had the vending machine. Part curious, part assessing. He stared back at her, a small smile playing around his mouth.

“Could be worse, though,” he said.

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“It can always be worse. Imagine if they were flesh-eating zombies who could fire bolts of acidic spit out of their mouths. It’d eat right through the door.”

He smiled some more, inviting her to join in with the joke and her stomach gave a funny little flip. He was just so…big! All muscles and man and her body was reacting exactly how it should to such a sight. She bit down on her lip. Stupid body was clearly not taking into account the fact that a horde of the living dead were on the other side of the door.

“I was just imagining they were the cast of Firefly,” she said, then wondered why.

Luke shook his head. “I refuse to believe River Tam is a zombie. No way. No how.”

“You’re a Browncoat,” Jackson said softly, surprised. “You didn’t strike me as the Whedon type.”

“Appearances can be deceptive.”

“Always.”

One of the cans in her pack was digging into her back so Jackson shifted position, trying to order her thoughts as she did so. So much had happened in such a short space of time her head was practically spinning. Creepyville. The zombie attack. Another survivor. What were the chances that she’d run into two in a month when she hadn’t really seen anybody for almost a year? First Tye and now Luke.

Tye. Jackson shivered and closed her eyes, a mix of panic and worry filling her, quickly followed by a hot spurt of guilt. Here she was lusting over a random when her best friend was probably hiding out waiting for her, because there was no way he was dead. Not Tye.

She scowled as she recalled the fix they’d been in just a week ago. Camping by the shore of Lake Michigan they’d been attacked by a pack. Tye had ended up falling into the lake with a zombie grappling on to him. She’d sped over, planning to jump in after him if need be, but he’d emerged just a few seconds later, holding the zombie’s head. Where its body was she didn’t know, and Tye didn’t say, simply asking instead if the water they’d been heating had boiled yet.

He survived that. Of course he would survive this. Jackson had no doubt. She just needed to find him, and if he wasn’t at the Barbie brothel, he’d be heading for the interstate.