Page 33 of Desiderium (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #2)

Jax

“How much farther?”

“It’s just up here. We’re almost there, don’t worry. We’ll get the supplies and get back as fast as we can.”

I didn’t want to leave Cole and Hawk either, but we needed to, and I’d prefer to leave and get supplies when Cole is out rather than wait until he’s awake.

Being productive, doing something, anything , will help get my mind off of what’s going on—what we have no control over.

I know he’s going to be alright. I know this.

And if I believe it enough it’ll manifest itself.

That’s what I always used to hear before the world fell apart at the seams: Manifest your life.

Believe your wants and desires into reality.

Forge your own fate. Dictate your destiny.

Do any of that and the world is yours to mold.

It’s all a load of malarkey, if you ask me, but I’ll try just about anything at this point.

He’s going to be alright.

He’s going to be alright .

“Fucking hell.” Just what we needed to run into.

Stragglers. There are three of them in the road, blocking the way to the supply truck.

And no, of course they wouldn’t move out of the way for us like good mindless zombies.

Life decided to say ‘Fuck your plans and your happy ending,’ and served us a big steaming pile of shit, instead.

If we still had the big ass truck, I’d attempt to ram them—run ‘em all right the hell over and take care of the problem like roadkill—but I can’t even think to attempt the maneuver in this rust bucket.

It’s older than dirt and, upon further inspection of how shaky and noisy everything is, I’m almost positive every one of the shocks, struts, and bearings are on their last legs.

Just one wrong bump and I’m half positive a wheel will fall right the hell off and we can’t risk that.

This is our only vehicle for the time being so we need to baby the shit out of it.

I sigh as I look to the left and right. Discarded vehicles—all worthless because they each have flat tires—line the shoulders and block our only other driving option.

If it weren’t for them, we’d be able to make some extra room and drive past, but, unfortunately, we’re not that lucky and are also, sadly, out of time.

The infected see our car moving towards them and collectively step towards us.

“Fuck,” Aly echoes my words. “What do you want to do?”

I shake my head, exhaling exhaustedly. “We don’t have a choice.

We need to take them out.” I don’t like the thought of killing them nor do I enjoy doing so.

I do it when I need to, or to put them out of their misery, but in the back of my mind, there’s always the thought that these were regular, normal people at one point.

They didn’t choose to be this way, not like Earl and his fucktards.

I’d kill those bastards every day without any remorse.

But the infected? I just do what needs to be done.

“Stay in the car, I’ll get ‘em.” I say, unsheathing my Kabar.

I could use my gun and make this quicker, but we need to save the ammo.

I know there’s a risk, getting within biting distance, but the bang of the gun, even with a silencer, is just as risky, potentially drawing even more to our area.

If we’re about to unload one vehicle and reload another, a sudden gathering of zombies is the last thing we need breathing down our necks.

I just want to get out of here and finish what we came to do.

That way we can get back to Cole and Hawk as fast as possible.

“Jax, there are three of them. I can at least take one. Don’t forget, I was on my own well before I met you. I’m not completely useless.”

I turn to her, shocked that she would think that of me. “I never said you were. I just want to—”

“Protect me… got it. And what if I wanted to protect you?” She crosses her arms, taken aback by my lack of flexibility on the matter. How does she not realize I’m doing this for her own good? Trying to protect her and keep her alive as long as I’m fucking alive to be able to.

“You already tried to and it almost got you killed… Again. Please, just stay in the car. If you haven’t noticed, Sadie isn’t here.

If not for anything else, do it for the sake of my sanity.

” I reach for her hands and, even though she’s pissed and reluctant to let me hold them, I do.

“I can’t lose you. I can’t. I love you too much.

” She scoffs, pulling her hands out of mine.

“No! Please Jax, you don’t understand.” She lifts her hands and places them on either side of my face, looking at me so fiercely I can feel it right in my soul.

“I love you and I know how much my being in danger affects you. So don’t think I’m not taking that into consideration because I am.

But how am I going to get better if you won’t let me try?

How am I going to learn and make myself a better survivor and, at the same time, help you cope with your anxiety from it all, if you keep me bundled up in fucking cotton for the rest of my life?

” she says sorrowfully but takes a second to calm herself down, reigning in her emotions, then speaks in a softer tone.

“Let me do this Jax. Let me help. Fuck, let me take out some frustration over Cole too, for God sakes. Please ,” she implores.

Her pleas bring to light the fact that she’s hurting just as much as I am.

Shit, of course she is. And, of course, she’d need an outlet just the same as the rest of us. Who am I to deny her that?

“Fuck it. Fine.” I relent and nod, motioning to our neck gaiters.

We lift and position them over our faces as we finish preparing ourselves.

I grip my knife while she unsheathes hers and turns, opening the door and stepping outside.

I do the same on my side and am hit with the rotting stench of death as soon as I do so.

Not wasting any time, I stalk over to the first one and slam my knife right into its eye socket, the body falling to the ground instantly. The second zombie is a little faster, gaining ground as I raise the blade but I manage to jam it in its temple before it can reach me .

With both of mine down, I turn towards Aly, straddling her chosen zombie. He’s dead. More than dead, actually. Half its head is simply nonexistent anymore from the continuous stabs she’s driving into it.

I take a deep breath and check our surroundings. It’s quiet here. One could even say peaceful if not for the current situation. There’re no bird or animal sounds. No rustling of leaves in the background. No hustle and bustle of midday traffic drowning out the atmosphere.

Just quiet.

Silent.

Well... except for Aly.

Her heaving grunts and growls are loud as she drives her blade into the body beneath her. The squelching sound emitting from the oozing flesh echoes around us as she lifts her arm and stabs the head again…and again…and again.

“Aly, that’s enough. It’s gone. We’re done here.”

She pulls the blade from the bone, spraying blood and brain matter everywhere before she swings her arms down again, pouring her pain into the movement.

Again.

And again.

“Aly….”

She doesn’t hear me as she continues, stabbing whatever remains the corpse has left, which is next to nothing at this point.

Again.

And then again.

Enough.

I wrap my arms around hers from behind, halting her next blow. She fights me, twisting her body and kicking her legs, trying to strike down again; to force the blade to find a home in the mass of putrid flesh beneath her.

“NO!” she yells out. “They did this! They did this to him! He didn’t do anything and they fucking did this!”

“I know, baby.”

“THEY DID THIS!” she screams to the heavens, her body tense in my arms as tears flow down her face. My breath catches in my throat at her pain as I’m reminded of what’s at stake here. As if I could ever fucking forget.

“I know, but he’s going to be alright.” It’s a difficult scenario to fathom, and I feel the same way she does, so I try to reassure her, but I also need to shut this down before she draws a horde right to us. She shakes her head in return.

“You don’t know that! How could you possibly know that?!” she screams, her words barely hanging on as they fly through the air.

Enough.

I need her to see the truth in my eyes—that even though it’s out of my hands, we still have to believe, until we can’t anymore, that Cole is going to be ok.

Focusing on the negative will tear us down and force us to wither away in our grief, but we need to be stronger than ever in order to get through this .

Twisting her around in my arms, I grab her face between my palms, forcing her to be still as my voice cracks, betraying my confidence. “Look at me! He’s going to be alright, Goddammit! Now, let’s get those supplies and get back to him and you’ll see for yourself. He’s going to be alright.”

He’s going to be alright….

Aly takes in a shaky breath but reluctantly allows me to pull her up and move us back over to the car.

Safely distanced away from the bodies, we remove our balaclavas, discarding them and all our blood-splattered clothes on the side of the road before I hand her a couple of disinfecting wipes from my bug-out bag.

Her breakdown left everything we were wearing—well, all except our skivvies—bloody and we can’t take a chance of contaminating our one mode of transportation.

Once we’ve sanitized ourselves, she turns and looks me square in the eyes, only hers are unfocused and glazed over. “We’re all screwed, aren’t we? Like… we’re already dead and we don’t even know it yet.” Her words hollow and detached.

Fuck…