Page 33

DAMON

I float somewhere between darkness and light, caught in a void where I can’t move, can’t think, can’t escape. The world around me is muffled and warped, with sounds drifting in and out like a broken radio. Voices cut through the fog, only to be swallowed up again.

“Damon, wake up.”

Zoey’s voice. It cuts through the haze, soft and pleading, wrapping around me like a tether, pulling me toward consciousness. I want to reach for her, to tell her I’m here, but my body doesn’t respond. My limbs feel like lead, heavy and useless.

“Let him go. You don’t have to do this, please.”

Her words shift from firm to sharp and desperate. They echo, fading in and out. Sometimes right next to me, and other times far away. I try to open my eyes, but my vision swims with shadows and light twisting together into something unnatural.

Then, a jolt of movement, and I’m falling.

No, not falling. Being dragged. Stone and concrete burn my back as I’m dragged along.

“Damon! ”

Zoey’s voice again. Louder this time. Closer.

A sharp burn ignites down my arms when my wrists are wrenched behind me into a pair of tight metal cuffs. My feet scrape against the ground, trying to gain perch on the concrete. My knees buckle, and hands yank me upright again.

The world tilts.

The haze in my mind thins, peeling back layer by agonizing layer.

Fresh air slams into my lungs. It’s sharp, cool, and carries the scent of rot and decay.

Sunlight slices through my vision like a knife, burning my retinas when I finally force my eyes open.

Wait, is that sunlight? I haven’t seen the sun in so long; I forgot it could be so bright.

Then something hard hits across the back of my legs and I’m shoved to my knees. My heart kicks against my ribs when I take in my surroundings. We’re outside.

It’s take me a second to comprehend it, to truly absorb it. The stretches overhead in a vast, almost unnatural shade of blue after so long in the dark. The ground beneath me is hard concrete, but when I tilt my head back, I realize where we are: a rooftop.

The edge is a mere step away. The sounds of growling rise from below, and when I glance over my shoulder, my stomach churns.

Rotters. Dozens of them, maybe more. Their groans rise in a frenzied chorus, with their skeletal fingers clawing at the air, as if they can already smell my blood and taste my flesh.

A cruel, familiar voice snaps me back. “It’s time to choose, Zoey.”

My head jerks up. Eugene.

Then I see her. Zoey. My blondie. She stands only a few feet away with her long golden hair catching the light, but it’s her blue eyes that are wide with fear that sets the reality of the situation .

For the first time, she’s really seeing me. Not just as a voice in the dark. Not only the man behind the bars. Me.

And I fucking hate it.

Not like this. Not cuffed and beaten, my life hanging by a thread, and my worth measured by the whims of a sadistic bastard. Weak and at his mercy.

Now she’s going to see how weak I really am, how I’m not worth her time or her love like she thought.

“Zoey,” I rasp out. My throat is raw from the damn taser. I try to move toward her, but a dreg shoves me down with a hand on my shoulder.

The movement makes me sway just over the edge, and I glance down again to where the hungry dead wait below. Their jaws snapping, their bodies pressing together in a writhing mass of hunger and death. They reach for me like starving animals. Bile rises in my throat.

“It’s time.” Eugene steps closer to Zoey, his voice oozing false kindness.

He brushes her golden hair behind her shoulder and runs his dirty fingers along her smooth neck.

“If you choose me, then you’ll get out of that filthy cell.

You’ll have clean clothes, good food, and all the insulin you’ll ever need.

No more fighting to survive. You’ll be a queen. ”

She trembles, but she doesn’t look at him. She only looks at me, as if I’m the only thing she wants to see.

I grit my teeth when fury burns through my veins. “The insulin isn’t yours to bargain with,” I snap. “If you really wanted her, really cared about her, you wouldn’t dangle her life in front of her like a fucking prize.”

Zoey flinches, and then I see it. The tiny flicker of doubt.

So does Eugene. His smirk vanishes, and he’s on me in two quick strides.

His hand cracks across my face. The force of it sends a sharp pain splintering through my jaw, making my ears ring.

The metallic tang of blood floods my mouth from the fresh cut on my lip .

Zoey screams.

Eugene ignores her. His fingers clamp around my arm, and the touch of his skin against mine makes my stomach churn. He yanks me to my feet and pushes me forward, closer to the edge of the roof that I was already teetering on the edge of.

It’s too close. I can feel the sheer drop into nothingness beneath my toes that hang over the edge. The sea of dead waits below.

Zoey thrashes against the dreg holding her, and I want to kill them all. I will kill them all.

Eugene tightens his grip on me, and his lips curl into a satisfied sneer.

“Or you can reject me. Again. Walk away and never hear from me again. Of course, that means you’ll watch all these precious men of yours fall to the rotters.

One by one. And then,” he leans in with a grin, “you’ll watch them roam the earth as one of them. ”

Zoey stops struggling. The world narrows to only her and me.

“Don’t do it,” I rasp. I meet her tear-filled gaze, and the agony in her eyes nearly undoes me. “I’m not worth it, Zoey. Get out of here and live your life. Live for me.”

Her lips tremble, and for a brief second, I think she might let me go.

She should. The choice shouldn’t be so hard. She can finally have her freedom. I would throw myself off the roof if it meant making this easier for her.

To my surprise, she shakes herself free from the dreg holding her and steps closer to me. Eugene’s grip tightens, and the bastard with the bruised jaw presses a knife to my throat. My wrists strain against the cuffs, but I can’t wrap my arms around her one last time.

“I’ll go with you, Eugene.” Her words slice my guts more effectively than this dregs’ knife to my throat ever could. “ I’ll do whatever you want, but you have to let them go. All of them.”

My body tenses. She’s not going to damn herself in order to save us. I won’t allow it.

Eugene grins. “Glad to see we won’t have a repeat of Alex.”

Her body goes rigid, but she keeps her focus on me.

“Zoey, no.” I struggle against the dregs’ hold, but my wrists are still cuffed and I think the knife nicks the side of my neck. A drop of liquid rolls down my skin.

She looks at me, and this time, she really looks at me.

“You are worth it, Damon. You’re worth that, and so much more.”

Her hands reach up to cup my jaw and she rises onto her toes and presses her lips to mine.

Her sweetness mingles with the blood on my lip, and my body reacts in an instant.

I want to wrap my arms around her, want to shield her from this nightmare, want to burn this place to the fucking ground.

Yet, the desire to kill every single person in this god forsaken building gets put out by the kiss of a pretty girl, and I’m rendered useless while simultaneously feeling stronger than I’ve ever felt before.

Confusion over why she would decide to damn herself in order to save me renders me immobile. Realization hits me. If Zoey, my blondie, thinks I’m worth it, then maybe I am.

Eugene yanks her away from me. She stumbles, but she doesn’t fight him. “Get him back to his cell,” Eugene orders.

His hand clamps around Zoey’s arm, and that’s my undoing. I struggle against the dregs so much that I feel a slight trickle of blood on the side of my neck, but I don’t care. I don’t stop. No weapon or man on this earth can stop me from trying to get back to her.

I let out a roar and lunge against my restraints, but the metal only digs into my wrists. The dregs drag me back, but my gaze stays locked on Zoey until the rooftop door slams shut and she disappears back into the building.

I collapse to my knees, breathing hard.

Freedom. It’s within reach now. I finally understand that maybe I am worth it after all, but losing her to get it isn’t. This is worse than a lifetime in that cell.

This isn’t something I want. Not if it means damning her to a life with that monster.

Freedom has never tasted so sour.