Page 22 of Resurrection (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #3)

As slowly as I possibly can without turning into a sloth, I lift myself out of the footwell and slink onto the center console.

Keeping part of the blanket covering me, I lift theirs and drape it over my head, facing them while lying flat on my chest. “Ok, so how do we do this, Doc? She’s fucking catatonic right now,” I ask as I snap my fingers in front of her face, her eyelids barely flinching in response.

“Aly… gorgeous… look at me. Can you see me?” Cole brings his gaze back to her, licking his lips and waiting for her response.

She doesn’t speak, but her eyes zero-in on the movement of his tongue, so he does it again.

Her sharp inhale indicates she’s at least with us in some capacity. Better than nothing.

We can work with that.

“Aly, what do you see? What’s got your attention right now?” He licks his lips again, slower, closer to her face, drawing her undivided attention to the movement.

“To…tongue,” she says, so quietly I almost miss it, but she doesn’t take her eyes off his mouth, mesmerized by the sight.

“That’s right, beautiful. Good girl. Stay with us. What else do you see? Look around. Find Hawk and Jax. What’re they doing? Talk to us. Remember to use your words.”

She turns her head, ever so slightly, until Jax comes into her field of view, now on his hands and knees.

He looks a little confused as to what to do next, but with a tiny push of reassurance from Cole, Jax leans forward and cradles her face, ghosting a kiss over her forehead before slightly moving back again.

It captures her attention, just as Cole’s tongue did.

“What do you see now? What did you feel, baby?” Jax asks.

She responds quicker this time, looking at Jax’s mouth and refusing to look away, “Lips….”

“That’s our girl. Keep on going. What else?”

I don’t wait for her to turn my way. Leaning directly over her—my hips still on the center console while my head perches on the back seat—I rip my shirt off, but in the least conspicuous way possible.

We still have to take into account that we’re surrounded by the night of the living fucktards.

The sudden movement, as well as my torso being directly over the top of her in prime viewing mode, pulls her eyes to me like tractor beams. The instant reaction boosts my ego so I flex a little just to add fuel to the fire.

“Really?” Jax says under his breath, his eyebrows hiking a little.

“Yum…,” she breathes out on a shaky exhale.

Yes, really…

I have to stop myself from laughing in relief at her response. It seems Cole and Jax are having to restrain themselves just as much as I am. Needless to say, her reaction was unexpected, but welcome, nonetheless. It’s a sign that she’s coming back to us. Slowly but surely .

Another cast member from Resident Evil knocks into the car, jostling each of us, but shocking Aly, forcing her to tighten up once again.

“Hold on, Aly. Back to me. Back to us. Only us.” Cole gets her to fixate on him again, licking his lips and, somehow, slowly returning her to her progress. Cole’s method is working; we just need to continue doing what we’re doing.

“Ok, sounds she hears… Sounds… Fuck… What sou—” Cole shakes his head but gets cut off by a deep growling outside the car.

We all freeze, hoping the scraping sounds will just..

. go away. But after a few, long and agonizing minutes of that wish not coming true, I cave and lift the blanket to see a lone zombie staring directly at us all through the back passenger side window.

His snarling, decrepit face, dripping blood and pus and— oh God, what is that?

!— presses against the glass. No one moves.

No one speaks. We barely breathe. It’s like that scene in Jurassic Park when the T-Rex is about to tear apart the touring car.

Chaos theory… Fuck you, Dr. Malcom.

The zombie huffs, blowing hot air onto the window, and fogging it up before doing it again, and again.

It’s agitated. Pissed. The fuck. Off. A World War Z version of those stupid fucking velociraptors and I can almost guarantee it senses us hiding in here.

And if one of them senses us, it’s only a matter of time before they all do.

The groans and growls outside the vehicle continue to get louder, but luckily, it’s still the only one whose attention is captured .

For now....

No, fuck that noise. Not today, Rexy.

We need to get rid of it before it draws over more. We can handle one, but we can’t handle the entire fucking horde. At least not with the limited resources we currently have in the granny mobile.

I mull over our options. We can’t use a gun; that much is obvious. Due to the current dense configuration of the horde, even with a silencer, it could draw the others right to us. And, since we’re not throwing an end-of-the-world party, that wouldn’t be good, now, would it?

We can’t ignore the snarling, drooling— fuck he needs some dental work —Thriller extra, either. It’s seen us. End of story. And we’re the perfectly packaged buffet at the end of the rainbow that’s more appetizing than a giant chocolate cake to a fat kid on day fifteen of his diet.

That leaves us with the only option left: destruction of the brain by blunt force trauma.

It has to be subtle—no noise and no sudden movements both inside or outside the car. Which means after we kill him, we can’t let him fall. At least not yet . I can only hope he’s not one of those overly decomposed ones that’s going to fall apart the minute one of us touches it.

Barely a whisper comes out of me as I look at Jax, softly telling him my plan.

He nods and lifts the blanket to get into position by the window our friend is currently trying to claw its way into.

I move next, lightly sliding into the passenger seat, petting Sadie where she sits in the footwell while Jax simultaneously gives her a command to stay down.

Leaning over the passenger seat, I pull out my knife—a large, seven-inch, fixed blade Kabar—and stare death right in its gnarly face.

Once I nod, indicating that I’m ready, Jax grasps the window lever and begins a countdown.

Three…

Two…

One…

As quick as he can, Jax cranks the lever so the window rolls down just enough for the zombie’s head and shoulders to enter the vehicle. He grabs it by the back of its collar at the same time I go to thrust my knife straight through the underside of its jaw and up into his—

“Hawk... Wait,” Cole interrupts.

I pause, lowering my knife, and turn to Cole, but directly in front of him, outside the cover of the blankets, is Aly, staring face to face with the zombie.

An absolutely fearsome sight. Beautiful.

Powerful. Savage. Her eyes blaze like fire as she grits her teeth, panting out her fury.

Jax and I are taken aback by the sight, completely awestruck at our perfect woman.

So much so that we don’t even register her next move until it’s completely over.

*Squelch*

My eyes trail back to the window. To the ten-inch screwdriver embedded deep into the side of its skull. And then to the handle, still clenched in Aly’s stone-cold, grip. In an instant, the interloper is dead. Like dead-dead. Not… well, you know.

Oooooh, I think I just came a little. I swear I fucking love this girl.

When the hell did she get out from under the backseat? And where the hell did she get the screwdriver from? We both look to Cole who seems equally perplexed, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene.

Turning my attention back to Aly, I slowly raise my hands—one going to loosen her grip on the tool, the other to her cheek—turning her dead stare away from the corpse and back to mine.

“Sweetheart? Let us take care of the rest. Go sit back down with Cole for a sec, ok?” Without a nod, without a single response, she turns and slowly descends back to her original place on the floor, as if nothing happened at all.

Jax reaffirms his grip on the collar of its tattered shirt and holds on tight, keeping the zombie upright and still. One look at the wanderers outside shows they’re completely oblivious to what just transpired.

Thank. Fuck.

Switching up, I grab ahold of the body as Jax re-cranks the window back up, securing the zombie in place as our own adopted ooey, gooey decoy.

Once the window proves to hold it steady and we confirm that the zombie’s consistency is a solid mass rather than Jell-o, Jax leans into the back of the wagon, retrieves some more baby wipes and sanitizer, and hands them to me.

Thank God this thing has the cargo space connected to the rest of the car’s body versus a trunk.

That would have sucked. Sitting here, covered in zombie sludge… Ugh.

Once we’re cleaned-up, we turn our attention back to Aly, wiping her hands and arms down as well.

Cole’s been keeping her mind occupied—moving his fingers across her face, caressing her with his calming touch—while slowly drawing her back to him as he breathes in time with her.

“That’s our girl. You’re doing so well,” he praises, the low and smooth cadence of his voice proving effective at helping her relax, even if it’s just a little bit.

“You destroyed that darkness so well. Come back to the light, now. We’ve got you.

” Without looking away from Aly, Cole whispers to Jax and me, “Ok, fuck the sounds. Let’s work on what she feels.

” We nod our heads in understanding and return to our original positions surrounding her.

“What she feels...,” Cole whispers thoughtfully, continuing to run his fingers over her cheek, her neck, across her scalp. He then releases a heavy exhale, deep and grumbling, right next to her ear….

And she hears it. Feels it.

She gasps, her hips lifting from the floor slightly as she undulates her pelvis in the limited space she has.

Cole looks to me and Jax for reassurance, perhaps even permission to encourage her outlet.

We see the reaction her body’s giving him, and while this might be bending the rules of consent—given that she’s still not completely out of her panic attack yet—it's working. It’s drawing her focus away from fear and towards a different, yet equally, powerful emotion.

Without hesitation, we each nod emphatically, while Jax mutters, “Do it.”

Cole wraps his arms around her, the pressure of his hands rubbing across her body causing the same gasping reaction, but now stokes a fire in her eyes.

“Aly… Whose breath do you feel crawling across your ear?” He licks his lips again as he continues, stroking her hair down her neck next.

“Who’s giving you all those wonderful tingles that shoot sparks through your body?

” She rocks her hips again, harder this time.

Cole’s voice deepens. “Aly... Whose cock are you begging for? What’s my name?

” He pulls back to look straight into our girl’s eyes.

“Cole… It’s Cole’s,” she says under a stuttered breath. Her eyes are still distant and glossy but she’s responsive.

“That’s right, beautiful.” Cole nods to us to keep going as he continues holding her against himself.

Jax takes his cue and lifts her fingers to his lips, sucking the tips of each one into his mouth.

Cole continues asking his questions, his breath against her ear making her shiver not in fear but in arousal.

“Who’s that, pretty girl?” He tilts her head gently to Jax’s direction, making her focus on him now.

“Who’s sucking on your fingers? Licking them? Savoring your taste on them?”

It takes a few seconds, but eventually she responds breathlessly, “Jax….”

My turn .

With my shirt still off, I lift her other hand, pressing her palm to my chest, running her fingers down the dips and grooves of my abs.

She turns quickly to see my naked chest directly above her once again, a shuttered breath leaving her lips.

I loosen my grip, allowing her to explore further and—thank everything holy—she does so.

Her fingertips dance along my skin, goosebumps following the trail she creates.

That tiny movement—her taking control once again—makes us all release a collective sigh of relief.

“There’s our girl.”