“Fucking hell…”
“I knew it!” Satisfaction spread through Luke and he raced forward, grabbing the other man around the back and hugging him for all he was worth. “I thought it was you. Jesus Christ, man.”
Pete, Luke’s friend from so long ago, the guy that had brought his Mustang in for a service year after year, grinned and clapped him back. “Well, well, well. Never thought I’d see you again.”
Luke shrugged. “Me and you both.”
“I haven’t seen you since that fuckup at the police station,” Pete said, shaking his head and grinning widely. “But you made it here? Fucking hell, buddy. You’re gonna need to tell me how. In detail. I thought that they’d got you. I never imagined you’d survived.”
“No. I made it out okay in the end,” Luke said. “But you? The last I saw of you, well…” Luke shifted uncomfortably; Pete would not want to be reminded of that incident.
“Yeah.” He waved away the words. “Last you saw me was when my wife was trying to eat me. Suffice to say she didn’t succeed.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“No. It’s fine,” Pete said, but Luke could see the pain in his eyes, the difference in the man he’d once known. “We’ve all lost everyone right?” he added. “Lily’s dead now, just like everyone fucking else. But you guys are here, and other survivors, that’s a blessing. A total blessing. We have to be thankful for that.”
Luke turned and met Jackson’s eyes. An unspoken message ran between them and he shook his head ever so slightly. The image of the snarling Lily filled his mind. Her self-satisfied look as she had stood in the only safe place he’d had left in the whole world. Her howl of rage as they’d escaped across the park.
She’d smartened up, would have eaten them both in a heartbeat. There was no doubt about that. But underneath it all, somewhere inside whatever remained of her brain, she was still Pete’s wife. Maybe she’d forgotten it all? The laughter and the teasing, all the times they’d spent together, the three of them. Or maybe she did remember but no longer had the ability to care or even process the information. Whatever. It made no difference in the end. So far as the world stood now she would never be Lily again. She was one of them. The zombies. Their enemies and he fucking hated them all.
“Yeah, buddy,” Luke said as Jackson took his hand and squeezed. Telling Pete of Lily’s continued existence would help no one. Least of all the broken man he could see in front of him. “She’s at peace now.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Jackson awoke the next morning and automatically reached for Mandy. It was only as her hand moved across the soft comfort of the mattress that she realized and remembered. She was in a bed. An honest to God bed!
Luke shifted next to her and let out what sounded like a satisfied sigh. His face was relaxed in sleep, his weapons laid down carefully on the side table next to him. Jackson shook her head and curved her fingers around Mandy’s worn hilt. She’d placed her under the pillow, ready to grab at a moment’s notice. Luke had raised an eyebrow at her action but said nothing. She knew that he assumed they were safe now, she suspected they might be, but
Jackson took several deep breaths as she ran her fingers up and down the hilt. The often-repeated action comforted her, made it seem like everything was normal. Though what the hell normal was, Jackson didn’t know.
Carefully, so as not to wake Luke, she lifted herself up and looked around the room, marveling all over again at the cleanliness of it. After being introduced to Luke’s friend Pete, and then a bunch of other people whose faces blurred after a while, Nancy had shown them to their room. It made sense that they’d share a room. Space was limited and Jackson didn’t mind. Luke didn’t seem to either.
Their room was in one of the smaller houses, off to the side of what seemed to be the main house, the place they’d eaten their dinner the previous night. A huge bed dominated one corner, the sheets crispy white and smelling of lemons. A dark blue couch and chairs grouped around a blond-wood table took up the other half, creating a kind of bedroom-living space. It was the most peaceful space Jackson had seen in a long time and she couldn’t quite get her head around it. It reminded her of the time she’d hidden in a huge library. She couldn’t even remember what city it had been, but it was on a university campus, and she’d ended up there more due to chance than anything else. The stacks, as high as the vaulted ceiling, had mesmerized her, and though Jackson had never done well at school, she did love to read.
She’d wanted to stay in that library and devour all the volumes, probably because there was an innate peace to it. A sort of majesty that suggested it would endure long after the zombies, long after her. The atmosphere in her little room now was kind of like that. Sort of paused. Maybe it was because she could barely believe that they’d actually made it. Against all odds, they’d traversed the country and found the south, and survivors. An actual survivor’s camp. Just like Tye had promised.
Jackson lifted a sheet and inhaled the scent. Basking in the freshness of it. Everything felt surreal and she knew it was going to take a little while for that feeling to fade. Her life had entered a new phase, a different phase, and once again, she was going to have to adjust.
Luke shifted again, mumbling something, and Jackson smiled slightly before running a finger along the curve of his lower lip. He was damn hot and her body clenched as she remembered just what those lips had been doing last night. Another smile and she moved carefully, slipping out of the bed and padding over to the couches. She settled on one, tucked her feet underneath her, and placed Mandy on the armrest.
“Here at last,” she whispered. “You made it, girl.”
And damn, hadn’t it been tight? She’d thought there in the garage that it was the end of her road, and she’d gathered her strength to face it. She’d need her strength for something else entirely now. Not least, the prospect of sleeping without always keeping a part of her brain on the alert. She hadn’t lied when she’d told Luke that she had, at most, slept for four or five hours a night before the zombies had arrived, but at least that had been four or five hours uninterrupted. In the last couple of years, Jackson doubted she’d slept for more than a handful of hours straight through. Her body had wanted to but her brain hadn’t allowed it. Maybe it had been the constant flood of adrenaline, or the unrelenting terror. Regardless, she’d have to adjust all over again now. She suspected it was not going to be that easy.
“Jackson?” Luke’s mumbled words caught her attention and she met his sleepy gaze.
“Right here.”
“What time is it?”
Jackson shrugged, struck by the silliness of his question. Time meant nothing anymore beyond the length of a day and the reach of a night. “Time? I don’t know. Does it matter?”
He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah, it does. I promised Pete I’d check out the garage this morning.”
Jackson pulled the curtain aside, running the fabric over her fingers, and looked out onto the courtyard. A couple of people were walking past, obviously on their way to do something, but all in all it looked pretty quiet. “It’s early, I think. The sun looks weak, probably five or six or so.”
“I should get up then,” Luke said, stretching. “Don’t want to keep him waiting.”
“When did Pete ask you this?”
“Last night during dinner. You know when I went to get us some water? He collared me there by the taps and asked if I could help out. If I’d be happy to be the designated mechanic. Apparently there are a couple of people who know the odd thing or two but no one who can fix the in-depth stuff. They have a whole bunch of vehicles but some of them no longer run. It makes sense to keep the fleet here in good shape rather than replace them. Batteries go flat, rust kicks in etc. Looks like I’ve got a whole bunch of work on my hands—if I want to do it, that is.”
“So you’ll be useful here then?”
“Looks like it. It’s what I used to do. It makes sense for me to help with it here if I can.”
