Will tapped her on the shoulder and pointed up the stairs. They hurried up, Will taking point. She kept close behind him, leaving enough space that if he needed to spin at the last instant, she wouldn’t block his path. When she needed to move close to him, she kept one hand on his back to let him know she was there. She had learned the hard way that forgetting that one little trick was deadly. A week back, he almost cracked her forehead open with his rifle while turning in a hallway because she had lazily taken her hand off his back as they were moving through a house. She was sore for days.
On the second floor, there were more patches of dried blood along the carpets and walls. They moved quietly through the hallway and found the master bedroom at the end. The bed was unmade, but showed no signs of struggle or death.
“This looks good,” Will whispered.
She nodded.
He moved to the window and peered out from behind the curtains, careful not to move them. She did the same on the other side.
There were at least two dozen of them, moving from house to house up the street. They scampered like cats, quick and silent and with complete focus. They slipped in and out of doors and windows, continually moving up the street, away from them. She caught her breath as a ghoul darted inside the house the others were staying in.
Base camp.
“It’ll be okay,” Will whispered, reading her expression. “Danny won’t let them expose themselves that easily.”
About thirty seconds later, the ghoul emerged and ran to the house next door.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
“We’ll stay here until morning,” Will said, “in case they decide to double back and do a second round of searches. There’s no point in risking exposure in case they leave a spy behind.”
She nodded. The ghouls had left spies before.
What was that saying Will had about them?
Dead, but not stupid.
She fell asleep on the king-size bed with the M4A1 across her chest. It felt so comfortable, even natural, to have the rifle close to her. When she woke sometime later in the night, Will was standing watch at the window.
He had been there as she fell asleep, and it didn’t look as if he had moved at all.
He looked over, brown eyes and two-day stubble barely visible in the darkness. “Looks clear out there. I haven’t seen one for a few hours now.”
She sat up and glanced down at the black plastic watch around her wrist. Neon blue numbers glowed in the darkness. “You should have woken me for my shift.”
“It’ll be morning soon. Go back to sleep.”
“Will, you should have woken me.”
“I’ll wake you next time.”
She swung her legs off the bed and sat in the blackness, taking a moment to shake off the remnants of sleep. She was surprised she had dozed off at all. It was not something that came easy these days, not since that night at the Archers warehouse store in Houston.
“Did you get in contact with Danny?” she asked.
“He knows we’re close by.” Will was wearing his communications gear, with the earbud in his right ear and the Motorola radio clipped to his assault vest. They were close enough that he could reach Danny’s radio.
She walked across the room. The M4A1 dangled from the strap in front of her. She used to think it cumbersome and heavy, but now she hardly felt it at all. She leaned against the wall by the window, mirroring Will’s pose.
“You should get some sleep,” he said.
“I did.”
“Are you sleeping okay? In general, I mean. Carly’s been using some melatonin pills. You should ask her for some.”
“She already gave me a handful.”
“You didn’t take them,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t need them,” she lied.
“Kate, if you need them, you should take them.”
“I don’t need them.”
“Kate…”
“Don’t do that,” she said, looking across the small space at him. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“You know what. Treating me like a helpless damsel in distress. Maybe I was when we first met, but I’m not anymore.”
“It’s not what I meant.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I don’t need the pills. If I need them, I’ll take them.”
He nodded, though she could tell he wasn’t convinced. He was about to say something when they both heard a noise from the first floor.
It was the unmistakable tap-tap of bare feet.
He was moving forward in the darkness before she could say anything. She followed, drawing her Glock from its holster. He stopped at the door and they exchanged a brief, wordless nod. He opened it softly, one hand on the doorknob, the other holding the M4A1 in front of him, and slipped outside. She was right behind him.
He moved along the dark hallway, toward the staircase at the end, a shaft of moonlight from a small second floor window illuminating their path. He moved silently, like a ghost. She couldn’t figure out how he did that, with all the equipment he was carrying and the heavy combat boots he wore. She swore she creaked and crunched with every step.
He moved stealthily to the staircase, then slipped down it, disappearing out of sight.
She waited.
Five seconds.
Ten, fifteen, twenty…
She felt a sting of panic and began to hurry forward when he suddenly reappeared just below her, looking relaxed. “False alarm. Wild dog.”
“Are you kidding me?” She let her body relax and holstered the Glock. “How did it get inside?”
“Dogs can be pretty resourceful when they have to be. My guess is it saw the ghouls moving around outside and didn’t want to risk it.”
“Do you think they’d attack a dog?”
“I haven’t seen it happen yet, but doesn’t mean it won’t. What exactly is the thing that drives them? Human blood, or just blood?”
“Good question.”
He shrugged. “Maybe we’ll find out the answer one of these days.”
Three weeks later, and they still knew so little about the ghouls. Will had his theories, Carly had hers, and even Danny threw out some outlandish ideas that were more about being a smartass than coming up with actual theories. The one constant was that they were all guessing.
She turned to head back to the bedroom.
“Kate.”
She turned back and he was right there in front of her, his face as close to hers as it had ever been. He was taller than her, so she had to look up at him, and as she did he kissed her on the lips.
She was surprised but allowed her hands to slip around his waist. His own were suddenly on her body, his mouth moving roughly against hers. His hands felt surprisingly fine, even tender, roaming around the thick fabric of her thermal shirt. He caressed the exposed part of her neck and pulled her closer, kissed her harder.
She wanted this, she realized, but there was never the right time. Every day ended with all seven of them exhausted, always watching for ghouls, making bullets, scouring buildings and stores and houses for supplies. There never seemed to be a right time.
“Not out here,” she whispered. “In the bedroom.”
“Okay.”
She forced herself to pull away from him. He followed and closed the bedroom door behind them, already taking off his clothes. She struggled with her boots.
“Here,” he said, moving toward her. “Milady.”
She stifled a laugh. He knelt on the floor in front and made her sit on the end of the bed. He removed her boots one at a time, then eased her pants down. She felt like a teenage girl being undressed for the first time, and the feeling was electric.