Page 11 of Making Haven (Haven #1)

Devin

Things have changed since the night we went to the river. Don’t get me wrong, Lawrence and I still bicker but our barbs have been put away, replaced by teasing words and occasional laughter.

We’ve found a routine that seems to be working.

I’m currently going from house to house, cleaning it out and making sure they’re fully supplied.

There’s a little voice in the back of my mind, wondering why the hell I’m going through all this trouble.

Am I expecting visitors? Am I expecting to be here long enough to see more survivors find this place?

Lawrence continues coaxing his beehive, planting flowers nearby that’ll help them make honey. He also goes around the perimeter every other day, taking out any straggler zombies. He won’t let me come help him, claiming I need to make sure my ankle finishes healing.

There was a time I would push back against this protectiveness, telling him to fuck right off because I can do anything he can. Now? After that night? There’s a warmth that grows inside of me at the gesture.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I should know better than to fall for someone. I should know better than to let my guard down. So why the hell am I letting Lawrence in? Why the hell do I let him into my bed every morning? Why do I let him hold me as we sleep?

Fuck, I’m going soft and it’s probably going to be the death of me.

I step outside, taking in a deep breath of fresh air, hoping that’ll help calm down my racing heart.

I thought this part of myself was dead along with the rest of the world.

I’d convinced myself that I’d be alone forever and I was okay with that!

Why did I have to find Lawrence and why did he have to break down my walls with his kindness?

We still haven’t talked about what’s going on between us.

Every time he tries, I shut him down by changing the subject or telling him I have things to do.

The worried wrinkle of his brow will eventually break me down enough to actually voice what’s going on, but I’m not ready for that.

I’m not ready to break his heart when I remind him this is all temporary.

Does it have to be temporary?

I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. At this point, my ankle is nearly completely healed. I no longer need a walking stick or to wrap it. I would be fine on my own. So why the hell haven’t I left yet?

Before I can completely sink into a pit of despair, Her Majesty walks over to me, rubbing herself against my legs. I sit myself down on the steps, giving her pets.

“Hello, Your Majesty,” I say softly, giving in to the small smile tugging at my lips. It feels so odd to smile. It’s been so long since I had a real reason to do so.

How can I leave this behind? There’s safety behind these walls. I could picture the rest of my life here, fighting off zombies, living off the land with Lawrence and Her Majesty by my side.

I put my face in my hands, letting out a long breath as this war continues to rage inside of me.

It feels like I’m holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop and I can’t relax until it does so I can see just how bad things can be.

I feel paralyzed, like I can’t make a decision until then.

Her Majesty butts her head against my hands and I pull my hands away, giving her the attention she craves. “Good girl,” I tell her softly. “Are you my sweet girl? Yeah, you are.”

With a long sigh, I stand up, stretching my arms over my head. There’s about an hour left of the day before the sun is down and Lawrence can come outside. That hour window gives me an idea.

Before I can think better of it, I head back into the house I’m staying in. I pick up my sword from where I’ve been storing it beside the bed. When did I start feeling comfortable enough not to walk around with it outside? Fuck, I’m not prepared to think about that little revelation right now.

With my weapon in hand, I head back outside, making my way towards the fence that circles this entire neighborhood. I’m going to prove to myself that I can still take care of myself. I can take on a zombie and live. I can do this.

I’m not some helpless human stuck at the mercy of Lawrence. I don’t need him to take care of me. I don’t need him, period.

I need to prove to myself that I can do this on my own, that way my staying here is because it’s my choice, not because it’s necessary for survival. There’s a difference in my book. I’m not going to sit here and use Lawrence as my protector. I have to be able to contribute to this place.

“Here we go,” I whisper to myself. Then I look down at the little shadow I’ve accidentally brought along with me.

“You stay back, sweetheart. They’re not gonna be able to get you if you stay back.” Her Majesty sits down in the grass, staring up at me with giant green eyes, blinking slowly. “Good girl.”

Just like Lawrence explained to me, there’s little jingling bells every so often hung in the trees.

The noise brings all nearby zombies to the area, making them easy pickings to take down.

Thankfully, there’s only a couple at each point, otherwise the amount of them might be too overwhelming to kill them safely.

The first location has three zombies and I easily call out to them, bringing them away from the tree and towards the fence.

With the fence between us, I make quick work of sticking my sword through the holes of the fence, the end of it going straight through their foreheads and through their brains.

A hit to the brain always kills them in my experience. They fall to the ground in a heap.

I wrinkle my nose. In the last few weeks, have I really forgotten how awful these decaying beasts smell? Have I lost my edge? Have I gotten this unprepared?

Once the last zombie is down, I move further around the perimeter. I want to hit every location before the sun sets. I want to have it completely done before Lawrence can ever step outside. Plus, the zombies are always lethargic while the sun is still up.

At least I haven’t lost all sense.

I get through two sections just fine, my sword dripping with congealed blood and the scent of death. My chest is finally starting to feel lighter. I can do this. I can be a part of whatever is going on here. I don’t need to be protected.

God, I don’t even know why I’m struggling with this. I know I’m more than capable of surviving. I’ve been doing so for the last two years, but now that I’ve been here for a few weeks, I’m feeling all sorts of insecure about my own survival skills.

I refuse to be a burden to Lawrence. I refuse to let him take care of me. I need to prove to myself that I don’t need him so that I can finally admit to myself that I want him.

As I make my way to the back of the neighborhood, the very opposite side of the gate we usually use when we’re leaving the area, I hear a deep growl. This one isn’t from an average zombie because no, this can’t just be simple, can it? I grip my sword in my hand, keeping it at the ready.

There seems to be three regular zombies, all crowded around the bottom of a tree, trying to reach for the bell that’s just out of reach.

The thing that leaves me breathless with fear and trepidation is the werezombie in the group.

Its body is larger than the other three, spit drips from its fangs, its eyes red with bloodlust.

I feel bad for it a little bit, wondering what it must be like to be stuck in their animal form, turning into a monster with nothing to do to stop it. I don’t feel bad enough to stop myself from killing it though.

I whistle, getting the zombies’ attention. I’m hoping to take them out first before having to deal with the zere. That thing will be a pain in the ass to take down on its own without thinking about fighting off these regular zombies at the same time.

Maybe coming out here alone was a dumb idea.

I push my doubts to the side, knowing they’ll do nothing but weigh me down. I need to focus on the here and now. I need to be on my A game.

The zombies lift their heads, their lifeless eyes turning my way. My stomach turns with anticipation as they lunge in my direction. I shove my sword through the hole of the wall, striking the first zombie dead within seconds. I yank my sword back with an audible squelch.

I’m about to do the same motion again when the growl that’s been in the background grows louder.

The zere has noticed my presence. It looks hungry and I’m not so sure this fence is going to stop it.

Its movements quicken, growing more and more aggravated and aggressive the closer it gets to the fence.

Fuck.

Like it can read my mind, the damn thing leaps over the wall. Fuck, I didn’t even think it could do that! It lands behind me and I’m really wishing I had at least told Lawrence my plan. He doesn’t even know I’m out here. I’m all alone.

Her Majesty gives a valiant hiss at the zere, swiping at its leg before taking off in the opposite direction. Good. At least one of us is going to get back safely.

I can’t feel relieved, not yet, because the zere is coming towards me, not even stopping to acknowledge Her Majesty’s attack. It only has eyes for its next meal; me.

“Fuck,” I manage to hiss out, swinging my sword.

Thank every fucking god out there that I managed to keep it sharpened and ready.

As I swing, the zere puts up a hand, trying to catch the blade.

That was a mistake as I take those fingers clear off of its hand.

A few less things it has to maul me. Perfect.

I pause for only a moment, enough to see how that strike has affected the damn thing.

Of course, it doesn’t even slow it down.

My heart is in my throat and my heart constricts so tight that I can barely breath.

This is it. This is how everything ends.

I’ve worked so hard to survive and it was all for nothing.

I take another swipe at him, aiming for the meat of his neck but he’s too quick, diving down out of the way. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m taking a step back, and then another, desperately swinging my sword at him but never hitting its mark.

My sword sinks into the meat of its shoulder just as my back hits the fence.

I know within seconds, the zombies outside the fence will be on me, grabbing me from between the links.

The zere in front of me moves forward, sliding itself even further on my sword, not caring about the pain, only that I’m trapped.

I have no where else to run and it’s ready to claim its prize.

My last ditch effort is to slam myself against the zere, hoping to leave myself enough room to run. Maybe if I leverage my sword just right I can slip away. I’m about to move when my world is a mess of red.

Hot, wet blood splashes across my face and I blink rapidly, praying that none of it has gotten into my eyes or mouth. I use the front of my shirt to wipe it away, wondering what the fuck just happened and why the zere in front of me is falling to the ground dead.

As the body falls, it reveals Lawrence standing behind it.

His fangs are down and he lets out a growl like I’ve never heard before.

I take a step away from the fence just as he leans into it, reaching across the links in order to dig his fingers into the skulls of the zombies there, ripping out parts of their brains and throwing them onto the ground like he’s wiping away mud, or dirty water.

He’s killed all three of them like they’re nothing.

My knees hit the ground before I even realize what’s happening, my stomach turning. My last meal makes its way up my throat but I manage to keep it down, just barely. My head grows foggy and my throat feels like it’s closing up.

Fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t do it.

And once again, Lawrence was there to save me.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Lawrence finally rounds on me, staring down at me with wide eyes. “You could have fucking died, Devin!”

“Well, I didn’t,” I say, trying to get my heart to stop racing, trying to get my vision to stop blurring. Everything inside of me is screaming that this was a mistake. I proved to myself that I’m nothing but a burden to Lawrence.

The only reason I’m here is because I have to be, not because I want to be. My head continues to swirl with overwhelming thoughts. “Fuck, I didn’t need your help. I could have handled that on my own,” I try to say, my voice coming out in harsh pants.

“Not from where I’m standing! You were seconds away from being that zere’s next meal!”

I can’t take this. I can’t take almost dying and then being confronted with Lawrence’s anger and disappointment. No. This isn’t right. None of this is right.

I stand up and Lawrence rushes over, trying to help me. I slap his hands away from me, ignoring the look that crosses his face.

I can’t do this. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t fucking do this.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I hiss out, grabbing my sword and taking off towards the house I’ve been staying in.

I ignore the inner voice inside of me, trying to remind me that it was ‘my house’ for so long.

Not anymore. None of these are mine. They’re Lawrence’s, and I refuse to take his kindness for a moment longer.

I should wait until I calm down but I can’t. My body works on autopilot. I storm into the house, grab my shit, shoving it back into my bag. Why the fuck did I ever unpack? Why the fuck did I let myself hope that this place was the answer.

“Devin,” Lawrence says, his voice thick with emotion. “You have to stop. You can’t go right now. Sit down for a second. You don’t have to stay here but you should at least wait until the sun comes back up.”

What he’s saying makes sense. But I don’t stop. I don’t let myself calm down. I keep going.

I can’t fucking do this. Nothing is right. Nothing makes any sense.

“I don’t want to stay.” I shove my backpack onto my back. “I’m leaving and don’t you dare fucking stop me. I’ll never forgive you.”

“I’ll never forgive myself if you run out of here and get yourself killed.”

“You don’t need me here, Lawrence. And I hate the fact that I apparently need you. So fuck off and let me go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life,” I say, tilting my chin up and just begging for him to argue with me. Instead, he steps aside.

With him out of the way, I walk outside.

My steps are uncoordinated and clumsy as I make my way down the sidewalk and towards the entrance of the gate.

Thankfully, I hear no zombies as I enter the woods.

I keep walking, not knowing where the fuck I’m supposed to be heading, just knowing that I can’t stay here.