Page 7

CHAPTER 6

Noah

R ue always threw a book at my head to wake me up because I sleep like the dead. The first time she and Mallory walked into my room trying to wake me up, it took them ten minutes of yelling my name before Rue finally reached under the covers and twisted my nuts. It was not the way any man would've wanted to wake up. But Rue had her weird ways. Hence her throwing a book at my head.

But there’s no Rue here; there's no Mallory. Which surprised me when the smallest sound jerks me awake. My heart pounds against my chest, sweat beading down my forehead. Swiping away the sweat with my sleeve, I ease myself up. Immediately I’m hit with the realization I’m no longer outside; instead, I’m in some dingy motel room. The hideous blue carpet doesn’t match the off-gray walls that are stained with things I don’t even want to think about. A single lamp sits on the side table next to the bed. Dark purple curtains are drawn, only allowing the sun to shine in from the edges.

My throat’s so dry that I almost gag when I try to swallow. I sit up, blowing out a breath as I recall what just happened.

One: I ran into Reed before having a full-blown panic attack.

Two: I had another panic attack while I almost became zombie chow.

A sudden pit hits my stomach as I realize I might have been bitten. My head snaps down; only instead of being in my shirt and jeans, I’m under a blanket. In an instant I lift the covers up and find myself completely naked. Ignoring that small fact for a moment, I scrub my hands down my arms and legs.

Blowing out a breath when I don’t find anything. I look around, finding that I’m alone in this smelly motel room but with no clue of how I got here. Crossing my legs, I sit there for a long minute, staring off into space. What happened? I’ve passed out from a panic attack before, but this feels different. Why was I out for so long? And where’s Reed?

Just think of his name, and he shall appear. A shiver runs down my spine as he steps through the door. I squint when the sun shines in my eyes for a moment before he closes the door and they can readjust.

My shoulders sag against the headboard, relief washing over me. I might not know him, but he appears safe. Well, safe enough that he saved me from the zombies. He couldn’t be all that bad.

“I would say take a picture, it would last longer, but since we don’t have phones anymore, can you stop fucking staring at me? It’s rude.”

My mouth drops open. Well, shit, guess I was wrong about him not being all that bad. He’s just a downright asshole, even if he is hot.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” I mumble. My voice sounds rough, like I’ve swallowed broken glass.

I clutch the blanket in my palms, hating everything about this situation.

“We can’t stay here for long,” he tells me at the same time I ask, “What happened?”

He leans against the door, crossing his foot over his ankle. I shouldn’t find him attractive, but man, I’m sweating just from looking at him. Even with his icy cold look zeroing in on me.

“You panicked.” He finally answers as if that explains everything. Which it doesn’t, and I have a feeling Reed has no plans to tell me.

“How did I get here?”

“I dragged your heavy ass.”

I scuff, “Clearly you need to work out more then.”

He doesn’t bother responding to my attitude; he tosses a bag at the end of the bed. Peering over, I clutch the blanket in my hands and pull it up over my chest like I have a pair of tits to hide.

“And tell me why I’m naked?” My voice comes out weak and timid. Mentally I smack myself; it was supposed to come out strong and controlling, yet that did not happen.

“You had a number of fluids on you.”

“A number of fluids…” I echo back.

“That’s what I said.”

I have no idea what crawled up his ass, but he needs to back off before I throw one of these rocks at his head.

He must realize I’m not going to say anything until he answers my original question because he lets out a sigh and points to the clothes.

“I searched around for clothes that looked like they would fit you. You had vomit, blood, and other bodily fluids on your old ones.”

Tears prick my eyes at the reminder of my panic attack. When I was younger I would get them all the time until I was able to take antidepressants and stop them most of the time. In college, Rue was always there to help me along the way. But now with her being gone, hopefully in Florida by now, and no longer having any antidepressants, I need to figure out the panic attacks before they get me or him killed.

“Thank you,” I finally muttered. Reaching forward, I grab the bag, shuffling through the clothes. Yanking the long sleeve over my head, I go to pull the blanket down when Reed curses under his breath. I glance up just as he swings around, giving me his back.

“What, you afraid of a little dick or something?” I drop my bare legs over the side of the bed, pulling the boxers and pants up.

Reed grunts but doesn’t bother to say anything.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before. I mean, I’m assuming you did take my clothes off. Oh god, I really hope I wasn’t hard; you know that would be really embarrassing. If I was, please know that it wasn’t you. It might have been the wind or something. I’ve heard even the tiniest breezes make a guy’s cock hard. It’s never happened to me… well, until now. Definitely now.”

“Are you done?” Reed growls.

“Just about; I just gotta tuck this big boy,” I smile at my own joke. Though my pants are already done and up, I’m just pulling on a pair of boots now.

“It wasn’t that big,” I hear him mumble.

“Well, it’s bigger than yours, I’m sure. Haven’t you heard that big beefy guys usually have the smallest wieners? It’s why they work out so much; they gotta make up for something.” I tell him, lacing up my last boot.

“Thought you said I needed to work out more. So which is it? Am I not big and beefy, or do I have a small cock?” Reed asks, turning around.

“You know,” I stood up. “You might be a special case, and the doctor might need to prescribe something for both. But unfortunately for you there are no more doctors or gyms. So I guess you’re going to lack the big muscles and big cock.”

“You talk about cocks a lot.”

My smile spreads across my lips. He doesn’t even know the half of it, but I don’t tell him that.

“Well, I do love myself a good, girthy meat sausage; let me know if you find one. You know, since you like taking guys' clothes off,” I wink at him. Reed grunts and yanks the door open, clearly telling me this conversation was done.

* * *

I sit on the bed, listening to him pace back and forth by the door. I think back to what I’ve said that would cause him to get so upset, unless those few shots at his ego were really damaging. I should apologize. I don’t know what he’s been through, but I have this gut-retching feeling that it’s bad.

I stand up from the bed, patting my sweaty palms down my leg when the door opens and Reed steps through.

“I’m—”

“You’ve got two choices,” Reed doesn’t bother to acknowledge that I was talking. Not that I mind, because I’m not sure I like him saying I have two choices. I tense up, waiting for him to continue. “You either stay here or do whatever you want. You have a mallet and your precious rocks to fight off the undead.” I’m not liking the way any of this sounds. Me surviving out there alone doesn’t exactly sound like surviving; I’d get eaten in two seconds if I was on my own. “And the second one, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, you come with me. I’m heading south, the mountain in Georgia; there’s some place I need to get to. So, either stay here or come along.”

My ears must not be working. There’s no way Reed would willingly want to travel with me. I’m annoying.

“Why?” I blurt out. Logically, I know I need to keep my big mouth shut, but I also want to know why he would even offer. I expected myself to have to follow him like a lost puppy, just hoping he wouldn’t run off in the middle of the night.

“Don’t make me regret offering, Noah.” Something about him calling me by my name does something to my insides. My chest tightens and skips a beat. My mouth dries, and a small part of me wants to know what he would sound like moaning my name. I bet he has this deep growl when he’s balls deep. When he’s hitting just the right spot…

“Noah!” Speaking of growling. “What are you thinking about over there? You're drooling.”

My dumbass swipes at my mouth, narrowing my eyes when I catch on to his dry humor.

“Ha, ha, ha, you’re so funny.”

I think about taking my chances, really taking my chances out there on my own. My whole body clenches; my heart sinks. Zombies would tear me apart, and in the worst-case scenario I would turn into one of those things. But there are also other camps, more people that would kill me just for the fun of it. I’ve heard the rumors, the stories of others turning on people, making them play barbaric games for their enjoyment.

I knew my way from the government building to the campsite. But I have no idea where we are now. I was useless being on my own, and I was useless being with Reed. But at least with him I had a higher chance at surviving. And maybe I could convince him to not only teach me to defend myself but also get me to Florida. The chances of Rue and Mallory having gotten my text right before the power lines went down are slim. But one would hope.

“Two conditions,” I step forward, tilting my head up. “One,” holding my finger up, “you teach me how to defend myself. I, well, I’m not getting into my issues, but I need to be able to fight off at least one, maybe two of those things and not freak out.” Holding up another finger, “Two, you said you’re heading to Georgia; give me that time to teach me and then give me a map.”

“A map?”

“I need to get to Florida.” I leave it at that; he doesn’t need to know my reasons.

He glances off to the corner of the motel room, thinking over the choices, I assume.

“I have a condition as well.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“No more talking. I’m not here to be your friend. I’ll teach you; I’ll give you the tools to defend yourself, to fight off these dead things. But no more talking or going off on tangents.”

I hiss, shaking my head. “I’m not sure I can do that; I have, I get nervous a lot. I talk; well, I can’t do silence, it’s a problem, I know. But I feel this urge to always?—”

“Talk, yeah, I get it. Fine, how about you get one strike? If you’re talking too much, I give you a warning to chill then.”

“One!” I exclaimed. “I can’t do one; how about three, like in baseball when they?—”

“Two.”

“Is this per day or in total? I’m not sure how long it is until we get to Georgia?—”

“We’ll start per day for now.”

“Deal,” I blurt out before he can think about taking it back.

He holds his hand out. My palms sweat as I step forward, sliding my hand into his. I ignore the warmth that spreads up my arm into my chest. I can ignore the clinginess as long as he doesn’t touch me anymore.

I hope.