Page 9 of Deceptively Dead

“Well, that was certainly entertaining.” He drawls pushing up from the door without uncrossing his arms. I watch him warily as he takes a step back into the sunlight. There must be a balcony out there. He jerks his head at me in a clear order to follow him outside and disappears around the corner, behind the thick curtain that covers most of the glass door to the balcony. I hesitate briefly before shrugging and moving stiffly to follow him, anything to get me out of my own head right now. And besides, the Doctors ministrations are making me feel achy and tired all of a sudden, I need a distraction.

I shield my eyes as I step out into the sunlight, pausing a moment for my eyes to adjust and to just feel the warmth of the sun seep into my skin. It’s then that I remember I’m not wearing a shirt anymore. I look down at my starved, scarred body and heave a sigh. Oh well, nothing for it now, Hunter’s already seen me looking like this and it’s nowhere near as embarrassing as being caught weeping anyway, which he also saw.Ugh.I peer to the left, trying to find out where he went, but he’s nowhere to beseen. I lurk next to the door, soaking up the sunshine, and let my eyes roam over the sanctuary I found myself in. The house has two levels with a balcony on the first and second floors. I’m obviously standing on the second-floor balcony as I can see clearly over the little red barn nestled directly in front of me and the first-floor porch roof juts out below me. The railing around the balcony is the classic white painted wood and what I can see of the roof tiles on the porch below are a classy charcoal color. The clearing the house is sitting on is huge and I can see what must have once been horse or cattle paddocks surrounding my line of sight. I’m going to guess this place was someone’s hobby farm before the apocalypse. It’s quiet and peaceful and I allow myself a moment to lean against the glass at my back and let my eyes slide shut while I pretend the world isn’t ruined.

I hear a rasping noise and startle, swinging my gaze back to the left, towards the end of the balcony railing. I watch as a rope I didn’t notice, tied to the railing, swings a little as if a weight were tugging on it. I wait, stock still as I watch for whatever will come up the rope, ready to run at a moment’s notice. I relax as I see Hunters dark hair appear over the balcony and watch with fascination as he pulls his golden, muscled body the rest of the way over the rail. His dark eyes lock on to mine as his long legs eat up the distance between us and he crowds into me, forcing me to back up into the house again. As he closes the glass door behind him, he pulls a small backpack I didn’t notice from around his shoulders and turns back to me with a serious expression. He holds out the bag to me and when I don’t immediately take it he thrusts it forward.

“This is yours now” he practically demands, and I automatically reach for the pack. My hand closes on his as I take the pack from him and my breath catches when it feels like a spark jumps between us. I curiously open the pack and gasp as Ispy both my knives and their holders. I look up to meet Hunters eyes and he looks away first.

“You don’t use them on us, ok?” he says grudgingly.

“I would never!” I declare, a little rashly, seeing as not ten minutes ago I had tried to pull a non-existent knife on Nate.

Hunter smiles at me a little before his mask slips back in place and he’s once again aloof. “You will feel better being armed.” He states this like he knows me, and I arch an eyebrow at him. “You always reach for your weapons. When you wake up, when you hear an odd noise. Hell, you even reach for them while you sleep.” He explains roughly.

“Why, Hunter, are you stalking me?” I query with a small smile, slightly stunned. I know he’s been watching me; I can nearly always feel his eyes on me, but I thought he was watching out for his companions, notwatchingme.

He mumbles something about it being his job to watch as he turns and slips out the way he came. By the time I look through the doorway he’s already disappeared. I shake my head a little at the strangeness of his behaviour.For a big guy he moves as silently as a ghost and can disappear just as quickly.I immediately start to strap on my knives and by the time I’m finished I can feel eyes on me again but when I look, I see no one. “You’re being a creeper” I chastise the empty room. I wait for a response but when none comes I move off to explore the rest of the second floor while I have the energy.

There looks to be three rooms on this level, the one I’m staying in, the landing that I’m standing on and a room directly across from mine with a closed door. I immediately go for the closed door to explore. I pass the staircase and have to stop to admire the work. The whole staircase is filled with furniture and, I’m pretty sure, some fencing material. There’s not a chance in hell anyone or anythingwould ever be able to get past that mess without at least making a hell of a racket and becoming a sittingduck for any type of weapons. Genius. I’m impressed all over again by the men that found me. They take the word ‘capable’ to a whole new level.This must be why there’s a rope tied to the balcony,I think to myself, absently nodding as I move over to the closed door. I grab the handle and twist, kind of assuming it would be locked, but the door opens easily. I step into the darker room and suck in a sharp breath.So. Many. Weapons.My eyes flit from mattress to mattress and all the weapons piled next to them. Knives of all sizes, guns of all kinds, cross bows, ammunition for all of them, axes and even a freaking Katana! I’m impressed beyond belief at the range of weapons and how skilled these men must be to wield them all. And I somehow have absolutely no doubt they know how to use every one of these accoutrements. I shake my head in disbelief as I slowly scan the room again fingers itching to grab up as much as I can carry and squirrel it away under my new mattress for safe keeping.But that would be wrong,I lecture myself,these men saved you, so you don’t get to sneak their pretty weapons away from them.I’m about to duck out of the room when my eye catches on a familiar set of arrows in the corner. My heart leaps into my throat and I rush over to my weapons. Excitedly I run my hands over them and check the ammunition in my guns. The 9mm is empty from the tiny town shoot out and the .44 I stole from Ben is missing a few rounds too, but everything has been thoroughly cleaned and oiled. Not even a spec of blood to be found. I can’t help it, I sniffle a little as I let the tears fall, clutching the freshly cleaned gun to my chest like a favourite puppy.

“This is what makes you cry?” Hunter’s voice is soft but a little incredulous. He speaks from directly behind me and a squeak/hiccup slips out as I whip around to face him with one of my guns pointed directly at his… balls. I’m crouched over my weapons like Gollum in his cave and it’s put me at the exactheight of his pelvis. My face heats up and I quickly lower the gun and look anywhere but at him as I stand. I can feel him staring at me intently as he continues, obviously happy to ignore the fact I nearly shot him in the nuts for now, “After everything you have been through, the condition you’re in and not to mention your wounds, this is what makes you cry?” I look up into his dark eyes and shrug my good shoulder a little helplessly at him, not sure what to say. He doesn’t back down though, he just stands there waiting, not breaking eye contact until I can’t stand it anymore and look away.

“This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.” I quickly mumble, before turning away. I hear him sigh behind me.

“Take them, then. They’re yours after all. Just, try not to accidentally shoot someone. Please.”

I turn back around to thank him but he’s already closing the door behind him. Mimicking his sigh, I strap on my weapons and take moment to relax into the feel of their familiar weight.Never helpless. Never again. Strong. Independent.I pause in my silent pep talk, not sure what else I need to tell myself. Then it comes to me and after a moment of hesitation, I decide to allow the feeling to grow.Badass bitch. Fighter. Never a fucking victim.I repeat that a few times, settling myself back into my own skin and infusing my mind with more confidence than I have any right to feel. I grip the handles of my knives before releasing them and shaking out my hands. I stand straight and flip my matted hair before stalking back towards the door to my room. I am more than ready to find my shirt and kick the large idiots lurking in my room out, so I can get some more sleep.Being badass is exhausting.

Chapter Ten

Two days later and I’m back in my room practicing my range of movement exercises with Nate, while Chase lounges in the corner, watching. Chase always seems to pop up when the Doctor examines me now, and I can feel the tension between them, but it’s nothing like the other days encounter so I leave it alone. Also, both guys have been trying to get back on my good side and I may or may not be taking full advantage of their attention and gifts. Chase surprised me with a box of ammunition for each of my guns while Nate gave me a wicked looking dagger from his personal collection. They have both been feeding me, bringing me all kinds of food and generally trying to outdo each other. I’ve never felt so spoilt, to have the attention of these two insanely hot guys, it’s nearly too much and has my clinger tendencies absolutely running wild, despite my best efforts not to get attached. I have nearly my whole range of motion back in my injured arm, thanks to my sessions with Nate, but it still causes a lot of pain to move it. I still can’t holda weapon in that hand for longer than a few minutes before I fatigue. Hunter insisted Nate start to strengthen the arm, even though it’s not fully healed. Nate was not happy. Chase was not happy. Much arguing ensued. Hunter eventually pulled rank, saying we didn’t have time for it to heal properly, and I agreed with him. Each day shacked up in this house with them has made me a little lazier, less observant and more complacent. That will get a girl killed in this world.

I find myself relying on these men who saved me more and more, and that will not do. I have to be able to fight and to survive on my own again when they leave me, I can’t become dependent on them.After all, I’m a badass now. The thought of them leaving me makes me want to pull out my own hair and kick each of them in the balls, but I need to be practical. They never said they would take me with them when they had to go. And they will have to go. They have people depending on them and, injured as I am, I would be a weight they cannot afford.

“Good job, Trouble” Nate’s voice pulls me from my thoughts “I think we leave it there for today. You’re definitely getting stronger but I don’t want you to overexert yourself.” His big hands linger on my skin as his blue eyes gaze down at me. I feel a strong pull to step into him and have him wrap me up and take care of me, despite my pep talk of not relying on anyone from just moments ago. I’m so lost in Nate’s eyes that I startle when Chase’s voice sounds from beside me.

“I found these for you, Angel” he’s taken to calling me Angel since Hunter gave me back my weapons, he said I stalked back into the room looking like the Angel of Death. I glower at him for the nickname and flip him off, but, like with Nate calling me Trouble, it looks like the name is going to stick. I sigh and look at what he is holding out. It’s a small bundle of clothes and I automatically reach for them. I’ve been wearing the same button up black shirt and oversize shorts for several days now and ammore than ready to change. I step away from both of them and rifle through the pile, excited to find new underwear and dark stretchy jeans as well as two dark blue polo’s and a black tank top. I give Chase a huge, genuine smile as I note they are all roughly my size.

“Thankyou” I say sincerely, as I start to strip out of my shirt and shorts. I freeze with the shorts halfway undone and look up at both of them. I’ve gotten so used to being around them with my shirt off, I nearly stripped naked in front of them! Their gazes are on my body, watching my hands as they play with the zipper on my shorts. When I stop undressing they both look up, nearly at the same time, and I have to take a step back. Their gazes look downright predatory, and their eyes have heated with unmasked desire. I lick my suddenly dry lips and swallow a little nervously at the intent in their eyes. Eyes that linger on the movement of my tongue and throat before Nate shakes his head and murmurs something to Chase, elbowing him swiftly in the ribs as he does. Chase gives me a strained smile and walks to the door. He holds the door open and clears his throat pointedly at Nate, who hasn’t moved. Nate throws him a dark look and stomps through the door.

“We’ll be just outside if you need us, Angel” Chase says in a tight voice, before following Nate out the door. I blow out a shaky breath when he’s gone, trying to rid myself of the tension at the same time, it doesn’t work though, I’m still wound tight from the looks in their eyes as they watched me. It feels like they don’t even see my scars anymore, like they just look at me and see… me.

“You can go too.” I throw out into the empty room. I wait a few moments before a dark chuckle reaches me and I hear Hunter slip out the window.Honestly, that man is such a creeper.I think to myself with a grin. I think stalking me has become Hunter’s new favourite game, made better each time I call himout on it, or he slips by the other two guys without them noticing.It’s turned me into someone who talks to empty rooms far too often, but a girls got to have some fun, right?

I quickly strip my old clothes and change into the new ones, clean underwear and all. Everything fits nearly perfectly and the jeans leave me a surprising amount of room to move, not constricting in any way. I strap my knives to each thigh over the top of the dark jeans and put on some fresh socks and my old, battered combat boots. I layer the tank top and a dark blue shirt on my upper body, as the nights are starting to get a distinct chill. Once dressed I stretch and smile, feeling more like myself than I have in years. I reach up to run my hands through my hair at that thought and my fingers promptly get tangled up in the rats' nest sitting atop my head. I growl at it and yank my fingers out. I tried brushing my hair a few times but all that achieved was two broken brushes and a comb that got so stuck, I had to get Chase to break it apart in order to remove it. I’m abruptly done having this disgusting mat of filth and knots sitting on my head. It reminds of where I’ve come from and standing here in clean clothes and safety, I don’t want anything reminding me of that. I roughly tug the mess into a high ponytail and grip it by the base with my bad arm before swiftly pulling my knife through with the other hand. I hack and saw through the ratty locks until I’m holding my ponytail in front of me. I grunt at my hair and toss it to the side, finally feeling better. I grab the least broken, discarded brush from the floor near the water bucket and drag it forcefully through the much shorter locks. I can’t see what it looks like, but I can feel the hair now stops just below my ears. I shrug my good shoulder and let the brush fall back to the floor when I’m done.

I usually don’t care what I look like but I’m feeling a little anxious about my rash decision and I know it’s because of the three men that are likely sitting outside my door. It seems theyhave gotten under my skin if I care about a little thing like how I look to them. I roll my eyes at myself and square my shoulders as much as I can, reminding myself that they never said they would take me with them, so it doesn’t matter what I damn well look like. But I can’t deny the attraction to them that has been building steadily since I first laid eyes on each of them. And to make matters worse the fear and the wariness I needed to keep up around them seems to crumble a little more each time one of them does anything even remotely sweet. Even something as innocent as Chase cutting up my breakfast, to things I would have found creepy in anyone else, like waking up to find Hunter watching over me while I sleep, they seem to punch holes though my mental walls, making me want to trust them with everything.

My mood darkens with each thought about my obvious inability to be self-reliant and I stomp over to the door, throwing it open to barge through and find the guys, probably to yell at them for making me stupid, but instead I barge straight into a rock-solid chest that’s apparently been standing in the doorway.

My “oomph” turns into a groan as the hit jostles my shoulder wound and strong arms quickly wrap around me to stop me falling on my arse. His arms feel so nice around me I decide to just rest there for a moment and let my head thunk back onto his chest. We stand like that for a while until I feel him start to relax against me and gather me closer. I finally look up into Chase’s stormy grey eyes and smile at him, completely forgetting why I was so angry when I left my room. He sucks in a sharp breath, and I watch as his eyes dilate and tension leaks back into his massive body. We stay like that, lost in each other’s eyes and I feel the atmosphere change between us. It gets heavy and thick, making my breathing pick up just so I can drag enough oxygen into my lungs.At least, that’s what I’m going to blame my shortness of breath on. It surely has nothing to do with the overwhelming need for him to kiss me right now.

“Angel.” He whisper groans. That one word holds no small amount of warning in it and my heart stutters to a halt before kicking into overdrive as my mouth goes dry. I can’t seem to look away from him though. I unconsciously lick my lips and watch as his eyes dip to follow the motion of my tongue then seem to get stuck there, staring at my lips. I watch him struggle to control himself and know he’s going to kiss me. And I want him to. More than anything in that moment. That shocks me out of my stupor a little and I blink up at him in surprise, sucking in a harsh breath as I do. Chase seems to lose his battle of wills at the same moment and his head swoops down towards me, stopping just short, his lips a hairs-breath from mine, waiting for me to decide. I hesitate for only a fraction of a second before I quickly lean forward, letting our lips touch in the lightest of kisses.

“Soldier!” Hunter’s sharp bark snaps us apart before we can even begin, and I jump back like I’ve just been electrocuted. Chase jumps and spins like a startled cat and I’m sure if he had hackles, they’d be raised. He looks mighty pissed off and if I were Hunter I’d be making a beeline for the exit. “Horde incoming from the east, move out in five.” Hunter snaps at Chase. Chase pales and snaps off a quick salute, gives me one last lingering look then turns on his heel towards the opposite room. I watch him go, still reeling a little from our moment. A moment that I actuallywanted.I can’t even remember the last time that Iwantedsomeone, anyone. I thought that part of me was dead. Buried under the weight of unsolicited touches, forced intimacy and lack of personal choice. I shudder as I bring my fingers up to trace my tingling lips, my confused gaze lingers on the empty doorway across the room and I am deeply tempted to run after Chase and see if I can discover what it means to be touched again. Replace the bad with good maybe?

But then, Hunter fills the space vacated by Chase and stares down at me for a beat. He runs his hand through my newlyshortened hair and tilts my face up to look at him. “Angie, get everything you want to take with you. As long as you can carry it on your back. We need to move, there’s a zombie horde moving this way, fast. We need to be out of here in five minutes, understand?” he says it so gently I nearly don’t get the urgency underlying his words. I stare up into Hunter’s dark, stormy eyes and all I can think about is that maybe Chase’s kiss has fried my brain, because I kinda want to kiss Hunter too… Then his words sink in and I snap out of my haze, I quickly throw him a mimicry of the salute Chase gave him and duck back into my room. I give myself three deep breaths and a thorough mental lecture that mainly consists of mentally screaming ‘WHAT THE HOLY FUCK?!’at myself, before I start to move methodically through the room. I don’t have my pillowcase bag anymore, but I do have the backpack Hunter gifted me. I fill it with my clothes and my toothbrush, hairbrush, deodorant and soap. I chuck in the shampoo and conditioner, determined to use them at some point soon. I also pack some hair ties and the tweezers for good measure. I make sure I pack the full water bottle I stole from Ben, it’s one of the only things I have left from when I arrived, aside from my weapons, boots and bra. Once I’ve stuffed everything I think I want into the backpack, I touch each of my knives lightly, reassuring myself they are still secure, then hastily start strapping on the rest of my weapons. The 9mm and its holster rests on my left hip and the .44 on my right, I make sure both are fully loaded and stick a handful of extra ammo for each into my jeans pockets, the rest go into the backpack. Taking Nate’s dagger and its sheath I quickly pull up the left leg of my jeans and strap it to my calf, it will be hard to get to, and probably rub like a bitch, but sometimes a hidden weapon is worth a little trouble.

I grab my backpack off the floor and sling it over my good shoulder, my bow and arrows are waiting by the door and Ieye them regretfully. There’s no way I will be able to carry or use them with my injured arm, but I can’t force myself to leave them behind. I take a hesitant step towards them when the door busts open and Hunter comes strolling through. He looks cool and calm and nothing about his demeanour says that there’s a zombie horde approaching the house.Bastard.I’m fairly sure I look like some sort of ghoul, all pale and wide eyed while I try to convince myself not to panic.

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