Love in an Undead Age, A.M. Geever [best contemporary novels txt] 📗

Miranda looked around Jeremiah to Doug’s smirking face.

“I was fine,” she insisted, but she couldn’t help smiling.

They had gotten rid of the Navy and would soon be on their way. The thrill of victory hummed inside her, along with cautious relief. As soon as she saw the pickup truck ahead, the relief evaporated. Mario leaned against the open tailgate beside Connor. Both of them had guns drawn on Philip, the guy who was supposed to be helping them. Four men stood around the truck, their rifles trained on Mario and Connor. In the bed of the truck behind Mario and Connor, Delilah growled, the ruff of fur along her spine standing on edge.

“What the fuck?” Doug said, quickening the pace.

Miranda couldn’t keep up so was dragged the entire length of the block. Eyes flicked their direction and just as quickly away as everyone in the standoff noted their approach. Doug handed his .38 to Miranda. She pressed the muzzle against Jeremiah’s rib cage, thankful for the lethal threat that would keep him from running off. She was in no condition to keep him compliant without it.

“Liley, quiet!” Miranda hissed, afraid that Delilah’s menacing behavior might trigger a shoot-out.

Doug held his empty hands up as he approached the standoff. When he was ten feet away from Philip, he stopped.

“What’s the problem, guys?”

“Your friend here got bit, Doug. We need to take care of it.”

Miranda’s heart lurched. She scanned Mario and Connor, trying to figure out who it was. Her stomach plunged when she saw the dark, oily-looking patch on Mario’s ripped pant leg just above his boot.

“It’s me,” he said.

“He’s vaccinated, Philip,” Doug said, turning to address him. “There’s no need for this.”

“He needs antibiotics to keep from going septic,” Miranda said, surprised at how even her voice sounded.

“He doesn’t have the tattoo,” Philip countered.

Mario raised one hand. The flicker of rifles being gripped tighter stopped him.

“I’m just going to pull back my collar.”

He unbuttoned the first button on his shirt and tugged at the material to reveal a bright-green triangle at the base of his neck above his shoulder.

“It’s not in the right place,” said Philip. “It should be up near his jaw.”

“He was one of the first people to be vaccinated,” Doug said. “They were moved higher later. He’s well known enough at home that people know he’s okay.”

Philip lowered his gun, motioning for his men to do likewise. “Well, all right,” he said. “But we don’t have antibiotics to spare.”

Miranda’s heart contracted. Without antibiotics, Mario would die. He wouldn’t turn into a zombie, but zombie bites always went septic without treatment. Either way, they were always fatal.

“Listen, Philip,” Doug said, but now his voice was hard. Now, Miranda knew, he was dangerous. Dangerous Doug genuinely frightened her. “We had an agreement. You would get us out of town with whatever we need. We need antibiotics.”

“Maybe we can make a deal,” Philip said. He motioned to Jeremiah. “That fella would come in handy, being able to do what he does. How about a trade?”

Miranda’s heart began to beat faster. She gripped the .38 tighter. Doug nodded at her. She waited a moment, imploring him with her eyes, but he shook his head.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“I’m sure.”

Miranda raised the gun to Jeremiah’s temple, not sure if she’d be able to shoot him. Doug was willing to do it; she could tell from the look on his face. Jeremiah began to shake. Terrified pleas for his life were lost in the muffle of the gag. Two of Philip’s men trained their guns on Miranda as Philip and Doug attempted to stare one another down.

This better fucking work, she thought, her heart hammering against her rib cage. Otherwise, she was going to die. They all were. The mission would fail, and zombies would overrun the Earth. It was a simple numbers game and humans did not have them. Without a cause to rally around, without the hope of protection for all, they never would.

Miranda looked at Mario and Connor, suddenly unable to swallow around the lump in her throat. She couldn’t let not breaking Connor’s heart be what mattered. She could not help how she felt. She had known for days now, for years. When it would have been wiser and easier not to, her feelings had never changed. She loved Mario. If she was going to die, it was not going to be without telling him.

“Mario,” she said, voice quavering. “I— I love you.”

Mario and Connor stared at her. Mario’s eyes suddenly glistened with tears. Connor’s face filled with stunned disbelief.

“This is what it takes for you to admit it?” Doug said, shooting her an incredulous look. “Jesus, Miri…”

He shook his head as he looked back at Philip, as if her declaration was more than he could take.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Doug said to Philip. “We just helped defend this place, which we did not have to do, so you’re going to give us antibiotics and take us to the boat as agreed. If you don’t, and if you survive the shoot-out that’s gonna happen any second now, they’ll send someone to find out what happened. I just helped slaughter thirty men, so do not make the mistake of thinking that priests are different than anyone else. When my brothers find out what you’ve done, they’ll forgive you. And they will hunt you down to the last man. We can all walk away from this, or we can all die. Your choice.”

Miranda watched Doug and Philip. Her life and everyone else’s hung in the balance but in a way she didn’t care. If she died now, it would not be with one more regret. And if she lived—

“Fine,” Philip muttered. “Drawdown, fellas.” His men lowered their weapons, but the tense atmosphere remained. “Let’s get them what they want and get them out of here.”

Miranda lowered the .38. Jeremiah crumpled to the ground in relief. She handed the .38 and her captive off to Doug and limped to the truck, to Mario.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

“What happened to your chain mail?”

“New Jerusalem.”

He looked at her like he wanted to say more, but Delilah wriggled up to Miranda and began licking her face with unbridled enthusiasm.

“I know, I love you, too,” Miranda said, trying to both pet and fend off the dog. When Mario shifted closer, Delilah began to growl.

“She knows you’ve been bitten.”

Mario smiled. He looked exhausted. Battered. Hopeful.

“I’ll be better soon enough.”

Miranda slipped her hand in his.

“Me too.”