Bloody Sunset
A Zombie Apocalypse Romance Novel
by Gwendolyn Harper
For Brigid
And all the chosen family I love like wildfire
Thank you
Chapter One
“Been a long time, gunny. Shame it had to be like this.”
* * * * * * *
Clinging to Scott’s hand, Nicole squinted through the darkness at the figures running from the large dining hall.
They’d all heard the gunshots. The terrified screams.
What had happened?
“Thank God, they’re okay,” Scott said, already turning towards the bus.
Nicole planted herself, yanking Scott back. “That’s not Booker.”
“What?”
As the children ran across the courtyard, the adult with them brought up the rear, holding the hand of a little girl.
Nathaniel.
Slipping out of Scott’s hold, Nicole ran forward. “Where’re Booker and Caitlin?”
“We have to get them on the bus,” Nathaniel said, starting to jog past her, herding the kids to safety.
“Where are they? What happened?”
He didn’t answer.
Nicole scowled. “Nate!”
He finally stopped.
“What happened to Caitlin and Booker? Why aren’t they with you?”
Nathaniel’s expression was grim in the lilac dawn light.
“Booker’s been caught,” he said. “And Caitlin’s in there with him.”
* * * * * * *
Caitlin swallowed, willing air into her lungs.
“What’s the matter?” The man took a long step forward. “No hello for your old pal?”
From her vantage point, Caitlin watched Booker assess the gun pointed at him and the man holding it. His glare was dark as flint and lethal. She’d never seen him look so close to murderous.
“Ferguson,” Booker growled.
He chuckled, and a chill dragged down Caitlin’s spine.
“Gunny, you look like somebody pissed in your cornflakes.” Ferguson strolled closer, adjusting his grip on the pistol level with Booker’s chest. “Don’t know why, seeing as you’re the one who tore my house apart.”
Caitlin’s legs shook, adrenaline screaming through her system to run, run, run.
Ferguson tsked, giving Booker a once over. “Looking a little rough too. Guess life on the outside hasn’t been too kind.”
Booker sneered. “Better free than a goon.”
“Ouch. That hurt my feelings, gunny.”
“C’mon over here and I’ll really give ya something t’complain about.”
Ferguson laughed again. “There’s the Booker I knew. Damn, I sure have missed you.”
With her pulse thundering, Caitlin searched for an exit strategy. If she could give Booker another moment’s head start, he could distract Ferguson, get the gun away from him, and—
“You having fun listening over there?” Ferguson called. “I know you’re hiding. Can feel you watching.”
Booker shifted his weight. “Ain’t nobody else there, Ferg.”
“Don’t play that game, gunny.” Ferguson paced around an overturned table, circling to Booker’s left. “How about we all have a nice little chat together, just the three of us.”
“Talkin’ to yourself—”
“Shut up,” Ferguson hissed, lifting the gun to line up with Booker’s temple.
An exit. A distraction. Anything they could use.
Caitlin’s mind was reeling.
“I’m going to give you until the count of three to come out,” Ferguson explained, eerily calm. “Or I’m going to splatter Booker’s brains all over this room.”
Caitlin’s stomach dropped as the floor swooped under her.
No.
Booker didn’t make a sound.
“One…”
Pressing her shoulder blades to the pillar, she tried to breathe.
“Two…”
She could feel Booker’s desperate mental plea for her to leave, escape, get as far away from this cruel man with a gun as possible.
Together, or not at all.
That was their vow.
Caitlin slid the safety on her gun into position.
Pushing away from the pillar wall, she raised both her hands, pistol still gripped in her right, and stepped out from the shadows.
The smile that crept across Ferguson’s clean-shaven face was wicked.
“Come on over,” he said, jovial tone out of place amidst the destruction. “Join the party.”
Heartbreak flashed in Booker’s eyes moments before he closed them, steadying himself.
Caitlin wasn’t sorry though. She’d never leave him behind.
With even strides, she moved closer, never taking her eyes off the man holding a gun on her beloved.
Ferguson whistled low between his teeth.
“Well, shit,” he said. “Aren’t you a pretty young thing.”
Caitlin’s skin crawled but she schooled her expression into cool detachment.
Leaning in, Ferguson stage whispered into Booker’s ear, “Not much has changed, huh gunny? Still have a type.”
“Let her go,” Booker snarled. “She ain’t got nothin’ to do with this.”
Ferguson smirked. “Oh, is that so?” Eyeing her, he asked, “Honey, did he magically possess you and shoot that gun for you? Did he psychically control your every move? Hypnotize you into breaking into a federal refugee camp and kidnapping our charges?”
Caitlin snorted. “Kidnapping. That’s cute.”
Her tone caught Ferguson’s attention.
“And what would you call it then?”
“Offering people a choice.”
His laugh was icy. “A choice. A choice between what? Starvation, illness, or getting ganked by some walking corpse?”
She glared at him. “Better than being locked up in a prison camp, torn away from their families.”
“Survival of the fittest,” Ferguson told her. “Their family members didn’t have the gene. It would only be a matter of time before their card got punched.”
“What a healthy and informed opinion you have,” she said flatly. “You must make a great leader.”
For a moment she thought he would snap on her, but then he blinked, and a cruel smirk curved his lips.
“Whew, talk about a bitch with a backbone,” he said, chuckling.
“Calling a woman a bitch, how original. Did you learn those comparison skills in a poetry class or are you just naturally gifted?”
From the look Booker was giving her, she knew two things: he thought she was out of her mind, and she was on the right track to getting what they needed.
A moment’s head start.
Light gleamed off the barrel of Ferguson’s weapon as he took a step forward.
“That’s one hell of a smart mouth,” he said,
