Page 25 of Resurrection (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #3)

Aly

When I come to, it’s dark out, the evening sky officially cloaking us.

The weather has also taken a turn. Hard pats of rain belt the roof of the car, hiding us even more from the ravenous dead lurking just outside.

I’m not sure how long I was sleeping for, but it seems like I’m not the only one who took advantage of a little cat nap.

Cole’s light breaths drift above me, his head pressed against the window and his hand splayed on my hip, possessively protective even while unconscious.

Hawk’s also still asleep. His entire body sprawled out, and taking up all the space in the front seat along with Sadie.

Jax, however, is awake, keeping watch over all of us.

He must sense that I’m no longer asleep and looks over at me, a small smile gracing his tired face.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Are they gone yet? What time is it?” I ask softly .

He groans a bit as he stretches his body, stiff from lack of movement.

Honestly, I’m not sure he moved an inch while I slept.

Probably didn’t want to disturb me. “It is… a little after twenty-one hundred... or nine o’clock.

We seem to be at the end of the current grouping, just have a few stragglers right now. ”

Nine o’clock. That means I’ve been out for over five hours.

And Jax has been awake for over twenty-four.

The dark circles under his eyes are prominent.

I know he must be exhausted, but knowing him, he won’t sleep until we’re all safely tucked away in a building of some sort—four sturdy walls and far, far away from any of the undead.

The leader ingrained within his psyche keeping him from becoming complacent.

“Thank you for watching over us.”

Jax gives me that rare smile again and I melt a little more.

“Of course, baby.” He pats the four large and overstuffed backpacks in the rear of the car.

“Besides, it gave me time to reconfigure our bags since we’re gonna have to ditch the wagon here soon,” he continues, the gruff sound of his voice doing all kinds of silly things to my belly.

No… Wait…That’s….

Oh... Nooo.... No. No. No. No.

“Um… I need to go….” I say it as gracefully as possible, but urgently, nevertheless.

My tummy grumbles again .

Dammit, I knew that spinach muck was going to do awful stuff to me.

“Go?”

“Um, yeah… Go.” I widen my eyes to make my point known.

I’ve never had to ask, you know, how I was going to complete the task .

There’s always been either a bathroom, or an outhouse, or an available bush at my disposal.

But now? I’m stuck in a fucking car without a pot to …

. Oh, I’m not going to say it. I am a lady, after all, dammit.

“Oh… OH … uh….” His eyebrows raise up to his hairline in understanding before he frantically looks around outside, trying to determine the best course of action, while I try my best not to embarrass myself. I can feel it. The pressure. The pain. The need to run far, far away.

Oh God…

In his sleep, Cole’s hand curls around my waist. It’s too much. Too, too much. I try to push his hand away but he just holds on like a freaking boa constrictor, getting tighter and tighter around my belly until...

* Toot *

Oh. My. God…

My eyes practically bug out of my skull as the offensive noise echoes in the cabin of the car. It fucking echoes!

I’m mortified. I’ve never farted in front of the guys before. I’ve always instilled a virtue to myself that ladies do not toot around their boyfriends. Girlfriends? Whatever. Family? Who cares. But never... never around a boyfriend… and I just did it around three!

“Was that…?” Hawk’s head pops up over the front seat, and only a second later, Sadie does the same, her head tilted skyward as her nostrils fan out rhythmically, sniffing my foul ruin.

And I woke them up with it! Oh my God! Jesus, take the wheel.

“Did you just…?” Hawk asks.

“Nope.”

“But I just heard…”

“Nope. Didn’t happen. I honestly don’t know what you’re even talking about.”

Deny. Deny. Deny.

Hawk smiles knowingly as I feel a deep, red, crimson blush cover the expanse of my body. Stupid pale skin, can’t hide anything.

“It was cute,” Jax supplies, unhelpfully, shrugging his shoulders and grinning like I didn’t just rock the whole wagon with my gastro-pyrotechnics.

“Everybody farts, sweetheart. Besides, those MREs are full of fiber. It’s bound to happen to anyone who eats ‘em. Seriously, don’t get your panties in a twist over gas.

It’s not a big deal at all.” I thought Hawk was finished after that, but it turns out he wasn’t and decides to let one rip just to emphasize his point .

“OH MY GOD!”

“See? Totally normal,” he says, chuckling under his breath.

Unable to stop myself, I start laughing with him. Which, in turn, pushes more toots out. And now I can control neither my laughing fit nor the toots it brings forth. Oh, fuck my life.

Cole, being quiet this entire time, finally decides to release his hold on me to take a peek outside.

“Coast looks clear. Plus, the rain will probably aid in camouflaging our movements and scents. How about we get Tootsie out of here before we all suffocate. And when I say, Tootsie, I mean you, Hawk. Holy fuck, man.”

With one last subdued laugh, we grab our weapons and all the bags we can load onto ourselves before opening the doors.

Forming a diamond shape, we move as one, crouching alongside the cars for cover and ushering me down the road, past the intersection, and into the adjacent woods.

We go about a hundred yards past the tree-line before Jax lifts his fist in the air.

“Alright, this should be good for you.” He drops his pack, untying the top and shuffling the contents around until he comes across a broken pile of metal.

After fitting the pieces together, however, it turns into a little shovel.

In less than a minute, he’s managed to dig a little hole, gesturing to it when he’s finished with an outstretched palm and a nod as if to say, “Your throne awaits, milady.”

I turn in a circle, inspecting the location.

It’s a relatively open space with a suspiciously lone bush in the very center.

I guess it’s better than nothing for common decency if you find the need to shit in the middle of the woods on a Tuesday evening.

I’m about to pull down my pants when I realize the guys are still there, lurking far too close for my dignity.

“Uh.... ok guys... off you go.” I wave my hands in a shooing motion. “I can do this part on my own.”

“No can do, sweet cakes. Danger’s afoot,” Hawk replies, lifting his weapon as he spans his gaze through the woods.

“Who the fuck says ‘afoot’ ?” Cole interjects.

“Wilderness explorers, wingnut,” Hawk counters.

“Well, nobody’s exploring my wilderness while I’m doing my fucking business, so off with you!” I whisper as threateningly as I can.

“Sorry, babe. We just want to make sure you’re safe. Most we can do is fan out a bit. Maybe give you a little bit of privacy while we stay within the immediate vicinity.”

My stomach makes a sound that’s straight from the depths of Hell and has me squirming for the fly on my pants, forcing my submission.

“OK. OK. FINE! Just... turn around for fuck’s sake!

” I pull down my pants and assume the position before another thought pops into my head.

“DON’T FUCKING LISTEN!” I whisper shout, desperately imploring them at this point.

“Hum to yourselves or anything else besides—” * toot* *toot* *toot* “Oh my fucking God, kill me now!” My groan of embarrassment is mercifully drowned out by the surrounding rain storm.

Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself because if the rainstorm can drown out my groans, it can drown out my toots. And everything else...

Thankfully, the guys abide by my humiliating pleas and start humming to themselves, but my head drops a moment later in annoying frustration when I distinctly hear Hawk humming “Drop it Low” by Ester Dean ft. Chris Brown. Shaking my head, I will myself to simply get on with it and end my torment.

With the guys forming their kill circle around me—giving me just enough privacy to handle things—I’m able to relieve myself with little to no incidents.

“Don’t use those leaves to wipe! That’s poison ivy!

” Hawk instructs, going blatantly against the rules and looking over his shoulder at me, his eyebrows primed and at the ready to scold me if he needs to. I look at the leaves in question.

Well... that would have been bad. Being right within an arm’s reach, I totally would have used those leaves. Thankfully, I remembered to bring a roll of toilet paper from my giant stash in the back of the granny wagon.

Once I’m done, we round robin, allowing each of the guys a few moments to take care of themselves.

Unfortunately, as Hawk takes his turn, a couple of stragglers stumble out from around a large pine tree, forcing those of us not currently grabbing onto a sapling for dear life—softly singing “ Geronimo ” by Bastille just loud enough for us all to hear it through the rain—to take them out as quickly and silently as possible.

Thankfully, they’re only a few, so I don’t need to worry about getting tunnel vision as Cole, Jax, and I turn and lift our knives to do just that.

It's only a matter of seconds before we’re left in blissful silence once again.

The dead weight of the dispatched zombies falling to our feet in a wet, squelching thump.

Apparently unphased by the zombies’ interruption, Hawk finishes, pulling his pants up and buckling his belt as he walks over to the rest of us.

“Well... That was satisfying.” He lowers his gaze, taking in our filthy hands as we meticulously wipe them clean with moist towelettes.

“All good?” he asks with a raised brow, turning in a circle and presumably looking around for any more that we might have missed.

“Good to go. Let’s head out,” Jax replies with an affirming nod.

Reloading our packs back onto our shoulders, we turn to Jax, waiting for his cue.

He looks at his watch, which’s currently set to compass mode, and lifts a hand, indicating our next direction.

Thankfully, the horde’s groupings are still off in the distance, far enough away in either direction to no longer have to worry about; at least not immediately.

In my mind, I hope that’s the last time we have to deal with something that extreme, but in my heart, I know there may be worse things out there yet to come.