Page 43 of Zinnia and the Zombie
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,”
“Very well.”
He carried her down to the ground and they lay tangled beneath the watching flowers. Her head rested on his chest, her fingers absently tracing patterns on his chest. The faint hum of the garden’s environmental systems provided a soothing background to their shared silence.
“Tell me about your world,” she said eventually, her voice soft in the darkness. “Not the sad parts—we’ve had enough of those. Tell me something beautiful.”
He considered the request, sifting through memories that had gradually become clearer over the past weeks. “There was a mountain range near my training academy,” he began, his fingers combing gently through her hair. “Twice each year,during the equinox, the positioning of our twin suns would create a phenomenon we called the Golden Path.”
“What was it?” She nestled closer, her body warm against his.
“A perfect beam of light that stretched between two peaks. It lasted only minutes, but during those moments, it appeared as though you could walk from one mountain to the other on a bridge made of pure light.”
She smiled against his chest. “Did anyone ever try?”
“Many,” he chuckled. “There were countless legends of those who supposedly succeeded—ascending to some higher plane of existence or gaining profound wisdom.”
“But not in reality?”
“Not that I ever witnessed. But the attempt was a rite of passage for young Zathix. On their seventeenth birthday, they would climb the western peak and stand at the edge as the Golden Path formed.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” The memory came into sharper focus than he expected—the biting wind, the anticipation as the first sun crested the horizon, the collective gasp from those gathered as the light bridge materialized. “I remember looking across that impossible distance and feeling… not disappointment that I couldn’t cross, but wonder that such beauty could exist at all.”
She lifted her head to look at him, her expression thoughtful. “That’s how I feel about us. About finding you in the vastness of space. The odds were impossible, and yet here we are.”
He pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We beat impossible odds to find each other. We will beat them again tomorrow.”
She nodded against him, and he felt some of the tension leave her body. Whether from their lovemaking or his reassurance, her fear had receded. In its place was a calm determination that matched his own.
They remained in the garden until the first hints of pre-dawn light began to filter through the dome. The luminous flowers slowly closed, their glow fading as they sensed the approaching day. He knew they should return to their apartment, make final preparations for the confrontation to come. But he allowed himself a few more moments of this perfect peace, his mate warm and trusting in his arms.
He pressed one last kiss to her temple, then gently disentangled himself. “It’s time,” he said quietly.
They made their way back down to their apartment in silence, hand in hand. The first rays of sunrise were just beginning to illuminate the eastern sky as they reached the balcony. In the distance, the Grorn ceremonial fire had burned to embers.
The hunt was about to begin.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After Jaxx left, Zinnia returned to the rooftop arboretum. Despite her protests, he’d insisted she remain here as their lookout while he set the last of their traps.
“I can help,” she’d argued.
“You will,” he’d replied, cupping her face in his hands. “But your safety comes first.”
Now she crouched at the edge of the glass dome, the morning sun warming her back as she adjusted the settings on the binoculars he had salvaged from the wrecked flyer. The lenses hummed softly as they calibrated, bringing the distant streets into sharp focus.
At first, she saw nothing but empty avenues and crumbling architecture. Then movement caught her eye—a methodical advance along the city’s central boulevard.
The Grorn.
Her breath caught in her throat. She’d imagined many things during their preparations, but nothing had prepared her for thereality. Subconsciously she’d pictured them dressed like monks in long dark robes. Instead their massive bodies were encased in dark, fitted uniforms. Their skin was a mottled grey, like weathered stone, covering what appeared to be reptilian forms easily seven feet tall with broad shoulders and thick limbs. Even from this distance, she could see they moved with the measured advance of those utterly convinced of their purpose.
They moved in single file, eight of them. At their head walked one slightly larger than the others, bearing a long pole with the huge skull of some fanged creature fastened to the top. It gleamed a deep crimson in the morning light, carved with symbols she couldn’t decipher. The leader held it with reverence, like a holy relic or standard. Their uniforms bore the same skull insignia.
