Page 59 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

“Lori, would you do the honors of disarming our prisoner?”

I squeeze the hand he placed on my waist before walking out of his protective embrace. Stopping in front of Jonah, I hold out my hands. “We can do this the easy way or…”

“Fine. But don’t look to me for help if we get caught in a horde.” Jonah holds out the machete and I grab the hilt with one hand while keeping my other hand out to receive the rest of his weapons. A handgun from his hip holster, a tactical knife slid into his belt, and a smaller knife tucked into his boot.

“Is that all?” I ask. When he nods, I spin on my heels to put the weapons away in the duffle bag carrying our rifles. Then pick up the bag, throwing the straps over my shoulder. Amos bends down to grab the other two bags, but Jonah swoops down to grab them.

“I got these. Don’t want you to aggravate those injuries, old man.”

Amos’ seething anger couldn’t get any hotter. Before he can start throwing punches, I walk between them, grabbing Amos’ hand. He lets me pull him with me begrudgingly.

“Can I just punch him once?”

“No. Not yet.” I turn to look up at his brooding face, giving him my best smile. Considering the circumstances, I’d say it was a brilliant one too, because those golden eyes glow when he meets my face.

Before exiting through the broken door, I peek my head out to monitor the surrounding area outside. No zombies. Good. We hustle to our car, parked along the curb. Amos heads right for the driver’s side of the car, unlocking the door with the touch of his hand since he has the keys hanging safely from his neck still.

I drop the bag of weapons a little too loudly and slide my body between him and the driver’s seat. “You are injured. Let me drive.”

“Lori. Really. I’m fine.”

“You might be fine now, but what happens when you have shooting pain in your ribs or your vision goes blurry? The last thing you want to do is put us in danger, right? A walk in the woods to find survivors is something I can handle. A car crash in the middle of a zombie infested road? Is that something you want to chance?”

My brief speech seems to be enough when I see the stubborn walls of defiance break in his eyes. He nods, keeping his hand on the open car door as he says, “Not a scratch. Got it?”

Before waiting for my answer, Amos leans in for a kiss. A kiss that is interrupted by Jonah shouting from a polite few feet away. “Amos, watch out!” he screams, dropping the two bags with our supplies and heading for the weapons bag. We hadn’t noticed the approaching zombie until it’s at the car door, grabbing Amos’ hand and pulling his living flesh into its decaying, rancid mouth.

My reaction isn’t fast enough, but the scream that pierces past my throat is instantaneous. I pull the zombie off of Amos, sinking my newly acquired knife into its eye. As the deadie falls to the ground, I take in our surroundings, clear of any other zombies. This one must have been wandering aimlessly all alone, attracted to all the noises we’ve been making. How the hell didn’t we notice it approaching?

Then I turn back to Amos who has fallen against the car, his left hand pressed to his chest, staring down at the deadly bite. “No,” I whisper. Then, louder, I shout out into the universe, as if I have the power to change reality. “No!”

Jonah slides into view, holding his machete, yelling at me. But I don’t hear his words until he shakes me out of my shock. “Lori! Snap out of it. If you want to save Amos’ life, grab his hand and hold his arm out.” To Amos he holds out his belt, instructing, “Bite down on this and brace yourself.”

No thoughts enter my mind as I follow Jonah’s orders. I hold on to Amos’ bitten hand, desperate for this to be a nightmare. I love this man. I love him. My savior. My friend. A man who would move mountains to protect me. I refuse to let last night be the only one we share together. But what can I do? There is no cure. Unless you’re me.

I watch in horror as Jonah swings the blade of his honed machete down on Amos’ arm, just below his elbow. I force myself to look away, to look anywhere else, but my eyes lock onto a sight I wish I could unsee immediately afterward. The fear in Amos’ eyes turns them black. Barely a sliver of gold lines the darkness of his pupils.

His severed arm falls against my thigh as his pupils constrict, revealing the brilliant gold of his irises before being overtaken by black again. I look down at the arm that once held me, comforted me, pleasured me. Bile rises in my throat at the sight of it and my body shakes in horror. Memories of my own arm being cut off, ripped off. The pain. Oh god, the pain. I drop the arm unceremoniously to the ground and turn my focus back to the man who was once attached to that arm.

Jonah has removed the belt from Amos’ mouth and is now making a tourniquet to stop him from bleeding out. At least he’s good for one thing, being calm and collected during a crisis. I collapse next to them, reaching out for Amos’ remaining hand. His fingers instantly capture mine, crushing them as he grunts through the excruciating pain of losing an arm.

“Will he be okay?” I ask Jonah.

“I can’t say for sure.” Jonah slumps back on his heels after buckling the belt tightly around the stump of Amos’ arm. Blood soaks his arms, hands, and legs. “I’ve seen this work a few times. You have to be quick enough to stop the virus from spreading to the heart. A bite to a hand, foot, leg, arm. Those can be taken care of. If he’d been bitten on the neck though…”

Jonah doesn’t finish his sentence, likely remembering how Sarah died. Movement at the front of the car brings us to attention. I grab my knife as Jonah springs into a fighting stance with his machete in hand. Four living humans corner us against our car, aiming guns right in our faces. Knives against guns, not great odds. I grip the knife tighter in my hand, preparing myself to fight through bullet wounds, but no shots are fired at us.

A woman with long wavy blonde hair pulled back in a half bun steps forward, lowering her gun as she looks past us. Something about her is familiar.

“Oh my god,” she yells as she pushes through Jonah and me to kneel next to Amos. “What happened, Amos?” Before Amos can answer, she turns to me and Jonah with fury painted on her face. “Which one of you did this to him?”

Untamed jealousy racks my body. The way she hovers over him. They must have been something to each other. But Amos never mentioned another woman.Am I the other woman?The thought makes me laugh out loud, causing the four armed strangers to look at me with care.

They grip their weapons tighter as they stare at me, only breaking their hardened glare when Amos clears his throat. “Don’t mind, Lori. I fucked her hard with those fingers last night. She must be a grieving mess.”

My skin burns, my throat going instantly dry. How could Amos joke like this after everything that had happened in the last hour? After losing his arm. After nearly dying. Twice.

“So this is the famous Lori?” The blonde woman stands back up, taking two steps to hold out her hand to me. “I’m Dana. Amos used to fuck me with those fingers too. Until he met you.”

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