Page 20

CHAPTER 19

Noah

T his fucker wasn’t human.

There’s no way. He has to be an alien or something. I bet he’s a freaking zombie with how unnatural he acts. I’ve tried everything I could think of. I hummed off-key to multiple trash songs. I sighed heavily all the time. I smacked my lips when I ate and groaned after I had a drink. I moaned when I was sleeping, trying to make it seem like I was having sexual dreams.

I even purposely stared at his cock every damn chance that I had.

All day.

Every day for the past seven days.

Seven straight days of walking from sunup to sundown, me being my over-the-top annoying self. Even at night. I pretended to snore half the night; I tried to do my sexy moan that every other man has found undeniable.

But not once did I see an eye roll or a twitch of annoyance. He didn’t even give me a strike; he just listened to me bitch and moan. I even yelled his name, and he barely acknowledged that. It was like I was invisible, again.

Secretly I had nightmares.

Ones that left me feeling useless, like I was beginning to feel this heavy weight in my chest when I would wake up in the middle of the night wondering why I even bothered to open my eyes. I was beginning to feel helpless. Realizing that I’m not enough, I never was. I felt this numbness, my emotions feeling mute. This quiet ache in my chest, it felt empty.

And the worst part, no matter how much I pretended to be fine, the one person I wanted to notice that I wasn’t okay didn’t care. I wanted Reed to ask me what was wrong. Even if I knew I would cry the moment he asked me, it just meant he cared if asked. But he didn’t. He didn’t speak to me; he didn’t acknowledge me unless he was teaching me to defend myself.

That’s the only time he spoke to me. While I knew I should have fought tooth and nail while he was training me, I didn’t. I reveled in his voice, even if it’s to yell at me about killing a zombie.

While I paid enough attention to learn the basic knowledge on how to kill one—with minimal breakdowns—I purposely made easy mistakes. The simple swinging before it got close enough. I only did it when there was one, never two. And with Reed ignoring me, I couldn’t find a part of myself to be glad I could kill up to three. Most of the time. I learned to pick and choose my battles. Though I only ran away once with Reed, he was there to back me up. It was those moments when he was understanding, pretending like he cared, that hurt the most. I made up scenarios in my head while I tried to sleep. I pondered what life would be like if he accepted me. That once we got to wherever we were headed, he would confess his feelings. That he wanted me, that he cared and didn’t want me to leave. Because, in all honesty, I would stay. I’ll force myself to believe Mallory and Rue made it. They’re most likely to be together, and I’m sure Rue is too stubborn to die. And Mallory, while she’s not self-aware, she’s not totally dumb. She has a certain smarts she can tap into.

But I would; I would stay for him.

All he has to do is ask, and I would do anything for him.

It’s not until I spot a clearing in the woods that the silence really starts to get to me. I figured he would at least tell me if we were getting closer, but he didn’t say anything. And why would he? I was invisible; I was nothing to him.

The faint but persistent anger bubbled inside me. It was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

“You know what I think I miss most about before everything happened? Transportation. Now don’t get me wrong, walking is good for you. We should at least get eight thousand steps a day or something like that. I think that’s what my doctor once told me. But that’s beside the point. I’m talking about going across the country, and instead of walking, a car would be wonderful.” I ramble on.

I don’t think anyone could get used to walking across the state, let alone multiple.

Looking over at Reed, my fingers itch to pinch him for ignoring me. Not even a glance over. He does nothing but keep his eyes trained forward, and that stupid bat rests against his shoulder.

I should shove that bat up his ass.

The thought makes me smile. Only it’s left me feeling worse than ignored. I’m being rejected, and I hate him for it. Except I don’t actually hate him. Those stupid feelings inside want Reed, even if I want to shove him off the closest bridge.

With each passing second all I can hold onto is the fear. What if he chooses to leave me behind? What if he’s waiting for me to make that one mistake and get bitten? During all this I never thought about dying at a zombie's hand. Which is wild because during a zombie apocalypse, shouldn’t I be worried about dying from them?

I’m worried about being left behind.

And the closer we get to where we're going, the silence starts to become unbearable. The weight of everything presses down on my chest, threatening to crush me.

The small bubble of joy I tried to hold onto was slipping away. Anger rises, swelling around my chest. It’s like a dam inside me slowly starts to break, the irritation of him ignoring me. The hurt that he’s probably thinking of leaving me.

My feet stop moving. I can’t keep going. Not with him. Not like this. I’m better off alone, emotionally that is. Physically I’m totally safer with the six-foot-three person who chooses the silence over conversation.

I know I shouldn’t have expected him to stop, but a small part of me did. I wanted him to notice me no longer walking by his side. To notice my presence was gone. But he didn’t.

“Reed,” I calmly said. Or as calm as I can muster up. “I swear to God, Reed, if you don’t stop walking.” Hurt laces around my words. All the emotions curl around my inside, twisting and bleeding my heart dry until I can no longer take it.

With all the energy I can gather, I pull my arm back and throw the mallet as hard as I can. The moment the thing leaves my hand, I cringe and my finger wraps around my mouth.

“Oh no,” I whisper at the same time the mallet hits his back, and he yells out, “Fuck.”

While it does what I wanted the mallet to do, it got Reed to stop walking; I was not prepared for the icy look he shoots at me.

I drop my hands and raise my head. “You’re an asshole.”

Like a toddler that I’m acting like, I start walking towards him.

“You’re mean, arrogant, and, and, and?—”

“And what, Noah?”

I don’t stop until I’m standing right in front of him. In an instant I’m lost, looking at the depth of his icy blue and flicker of silver eyes. It’s not right. I shouldn’t be able to stop the words, the voice in my head, from yapping with one look at him. But that’s what Reed does to me.

He’s ignored you for a week.

That voice inside my head sounds too much like Rue. But it’s the reminder that if he can go that long without speaking one personal word to me, he’s not worth it. I need to remember I’m more than what I’ve been through.

“Actually, never mind.” I roll my eyes, hoping it bothers him. Moving around Reed, I start walking towards the small clearing. I feel Reed behind me, but I refuse to look. If he’s not, then that’s on him. I can make it out there on my own.

“Fucking asshole,” I mumble under my breath. I’m mostly trying to drill it in my head that he is one. Even if he hasn’t done one asshole thing towards me. He’s still one.

“Noah,” Reed calls after me.

But I don’t care. Fuck him and fuck this place. I hate the zombies; I hate Reed. He might as well be a zombie; they’re both so alike. Cold, heartless monsters.

So, I don’t listen; I don’t care. Reed can find whatever berry juice he seems to be drinking and shove right up his a?—

“For fuck's sake, Noah!” Reed grabs my shoulder, yanking me back and twisting me until my back hits his chest. I struggle against his hold as his hand comes around and closes over my mouth.

“Shut up.” He whispers into my ear. I’m about to tell him he can shove it where the sun doesn't shine, but the moment I look across the clearing, I stop. I walked up to the cliff that overlooks a sighting of one… two… oh fuck. Fifteen zombies are moving around the parking lot.

The fight slips from my body, allowing me to relax back into Reed. I ignore that part of myself that wants to enjoy being this close to him again.

“You done?” Reed asks. His mouth is way too close to my ear. Close enough that if I turned my head he’d touch me. However, I don’t. I can’t. Thankfully, for the past week we’ve come across six at most. But this is all different territory.

“Do we have to go through there?” I ask, my voice muffled from his hand. Rolling my eyes, I stick my tongue out, doing the oldest trick in the book. Reed squeezes my mouth, stopping my tongue from moving. Peering up, I hold his gaze, feeling my broken heart stitching back together. It’s these moments right here that I question that he cares. I see the man behind the mask, one that cares and wants me. It’s why I haven’t shut myself off to him completely.

Reed slowly drops his hand from my mouth. “No, we can go around; we’ll just have to be quiet and careful.” He glances off towards the walking dead. I follow his gaze, uneasiness slipping into my bones.

“I mean, you can do that, right? Be quiet and follow my direction?”

My head snaps back to Reed. Did he just make a joke?

“I, I, I can be quiet.”

“You’re talking; that means you’re not being quiet.”

I roll my eyes, at least a little glad he’s speaking to me. I’ll take him being snappy, mean, and whatever else he wants to be. It’s better than him ignoring me.

“Yeah, okay. Uh, well, how do you plan to get us around them?”

Reed walks closer to the edge of the cliff, peering over. He seems to think about it for a few minutes before backing up and looking over at me.

“We can climb down and then keep to the edge of the cliff. Put the mallet in your bag until you get down there. If I tell you to run, you do exactly that,” he orders, handing me the mallet.

I nod, grabbing the mallet and placing it in the small pocket on the side of my bag. Rolling my shoulders, it suddenly dawns on me what he actually said. I have to climb down towards the zombies. We’re safe up here, so we should stay here.

“You’re not safe anywhere, and I’m right behind you.” Reed tells me. I cringe, realizing I’ve spoken out loud.

Looking over my shoulder, I give him a tiny smile.

“Stop flirting; let's go.”

Swallowing my fear for a moment, I inch towards the edge.

“Turn around and ease yourself down,” Reed instructs me.

Doing as he says, I lower myself down. I grit my teeth when my hand lands on top of some mud. I take a glimpse up at Reed, rolling my eyes when he seems to be enjoying my pain. I don’t do nature. Which, sure, I’m stuck out here until the CDC gets a cure. And I even know that’s a long run. So I’m stuck out here for probably forever.

The moment my feet hit the ground, I’m spinning around, making sure no zombies have noticed their happy meal. Yanking my mallet out, I keep my side plastered to the grass wall. Reed, much more stealthy than me, eases himself down until he’s standing in front of me.

He gave me a once-over, pride swelling in my chest that he was checking to make sure I was okay. I shouldn’t be glad, but it’s these moments that remind me I’m worthy. That maybe he saw that I was worthy of more.

Reed, satisfied that I’m okay, turns around and searches over the zombies. I’m not entirely sure what he’s doing, but since he’s gotten us this far, I suppose giving him another inch of trust couldn’t hurt.

“Keep close,” Reed tells me, his voice barely above a whisper.

Keeping close to the wall we just climbed down, Reed leads the way, sliding between cars parked along the way. Sweat beads at my forehead as we inch our way forward.

Out of the corner of my eye, something shifts, movement catching my attention. My heart skips a beat, my stomach dropping in an instant. But there’s nothing there, just empty space.

Shaking my head, I continue moving forward behind Reed. I swear I saw something by the strip mall, and it wasn’t the zombies. But no one would be stupid enough to get that close, right?

I should make sure, though.

Against my better judgment, I stop once more and look over the hood of the car. Telling myself I just need to make sure, I can’t have the lives of someone—a human being—stuck there. It’s then I see a man crouched down, his head leaning against the wall. I squint my eyes, trying to get a closer look when someone touches my shoulder. Jerking back, I nearly yell before I realize it’s Reed.

It takes him all of two seconds for him to see what I was staring at and make up his mind. Reed shakes his head, clearly telling me we’re not helping. This sudden urgency hits me, knowing we have to help him. I can’t ignore it, and I won’t. Some people might be able to shed their humanity, but I can’t.

Reed moves to continue walking when I jump forward, grabbing his arm with trembling hands.

“We have to,” I whisper. My eyes dart back to the man, feeling helpless.

“No, Noah. We can’t; he got himself into that mess, he can get himself out of it.” Reed holds no room for argument. Well, unfortunately for him, I like to pick fights, especially with him.

“Reed,” I snapped quietly. “What if it were me?”

He tilts to the side, probably wondering why I asked. And while part of me asked just because that could have been me, but also because I want to know what Reed would have done. That easily could have been me.

“Don’t ask me that.” He finally answers. Something in the air shifts, the world falling away. A fragile pause stretches between us, but it’s the subtle rise and fall of his breath. The way he holds my gaze, a softness in the way that tells me I have him. It’s the flicker of vulnerability, showing me he cares.

I try to catch my breath, not stop my heart from skipping a beat, everything feeling too quiet.

“It’s not you,” he whispers.

“But it could have been,” I tell him. “Those zombies could have killed me with Jamie, or that man right there, that could have been me.” The realization that Reed has been saving me from the start. It’s then I know I have him. Reed's eyes flutter close, his shoulders dropping.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbles under his breath. Reaching back, he takes off his backpack and unzips it. My brow furrows together when he sticks his hand inside and pulls out a gun.

“You’ve had this the entire time?”

Reed doesn’t bother looking up at me when he says, “Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you been using it?”

“Guns are too noisy; they attract nearby zombies.”

“Huh.”

The more I’m with Reed, the more it dawns on me that I have no idea who he is. While that should scare me, I’ve always been one to jump headfirst and ask questions later.

“Stay behind me,” he orders. Reed swings his bag over his shoulders, and I believe he checks his gun for bullets. Somehow watching him handle a gun makes him seem so much hotter. It’s like he has bad boy written all over him.

Reed stands up, waiting for me to follow. Once I do, I stand behind him as he raises the gun, and the first shot goes off.

I’m not sure what I expected, but the moment the gun goes off, my hands slam over my ears. I slam my eyes closed, my forehead hitting Reed’s back. Each time the gun goes off, my body jerks on its own accord. Even if I know what’s coming, I can’t stop.

I hold my breath, waiting for another shot when I feel Reed move. Blinking my eyes open, I’m immediately drawn to a zombie a few feet in front of us.

“Throw your mallet,” Reed nods towards the thing in my hand.

“What?”

“Throw it like you did at me; just use more force and try to aim for its head.”

My eyes bounce between Reed, the mallet, and the zombie growling at us. I can’t do this. When I threw the mallet at him it was because I was upset. I wanted him to pay attention to me.

“I can’t even hit a bullseye. Honest, when I threw that at you, I was mad at you; I don’t like being ignored. Reed, I?—”

“Then be mad; hate that thing,” he points behind him.

“Don’t ignore me,” I whisper, hating the whininess in my voice.

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Tightening my grip around the mallet's handle, I swallow the fear that inches itself into me. Reed moves to my side, giving me a full view of the dead thing walking.

I close my eyes and lift the mallet. Here goes nothing.