100 Days in Deadland (part 1 of the Deadland Saga)

Malice (Chapter 19)

I shrugged. “I had no idea when it was, so I took a guess.”

He looked at the can of chewing tobacco and smiled. “My brand, even.”

I smiled. “I know.”

He tucked it into his pocket.

“You’re not going to open it?” I asked.

“Nope,” he replied with a smile. “I’m saving it.”

After a moment, he came to his feet and stared out the window. The park office had no generator. The two-story A-line window of the cabin faced the west, so we had plenty of light up until sunset. After the sun went down, we either had to use precious batteries (we had even fewer candles) or get by in the dark. Fortunately, the days were getting longer, so sunset meant bedtime, or as Clutch called it, rack time.

Clutch turned. “I’m going to lock up.”

I wiped off the tin dishes we used, and arranged our weapons near the two twin-sized mattresses Clutch had taken from one of the cabins. I made sure the shotguns were loaded and looked over our bleak inventory. An AR-15 with three clips, the two shotguns along with an extra shotgun we’d found in a locked cabinet in the office, a box of shotgun shells, a baseball bat, a camping axe I’d found in one of the lost-and-found boxes, and a few knives. We’d also found a tranq gun in the same cabinet as the shotgun, but we figured we’d have to be pretty desperate to try that on a zed.

Darkness had taken over the world by the time Clutch came upstairs. With only the two of us and few zeds in the park, we no longer did patrols like we had at the farm. Since the office sat on a ridge, it was the safest lodging in the park, but it didn’t yet have a fraction of the security features we’d built around Clutch’s house. If someone managed to break through the door or windows we’d yet to board up, we were screwed.

He lay down without a word, and I watched the stars wink peacefully back at me until I drifted off.

I awoke to the sounds of Clutch’s nightmares, just like I did every night. He mumbled and tossed and turned. Like every night, I crawled over to him and wrapped an arm around him. He rarely woke, but when he did, he’d roll over and pull me to him like I was his anchor.

His muscles tensed and he shot awake.

“Shh,” I murmured. “It’s just a bad dream.” I pressed him back down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

He looked up at me. In the moonlight, his gaze moved to my lips.

I ran a hand over his short hair and gave him a soft smile.

He cupped my neck and pulled me to where his lips met mine. It was just a brush, but then I deepened it, pressing my lips against his. For a long second, he didn’t move. Then he grabbed me and rolled, pinning me beneath him. He took over. He came crashing down to me, kissing me hard and deep, with take-no-prisoners intensity, and a moan escaped from my lips and into his mouth.

I’d been careful never to cross the line into intimacy, but now that we had, I’d rather give up breathing than his kiss. After seconds—or minutes—of kissing me senseless, he pulled back, leaving me gasping for air. He, too, was breathing heavily. His calloused hand brushed against me, and I shuddered in pleasure as he tugged off my underwear and shoved out of his boxer briefs. He pulled me tight against him. 

“Clutch,” I begged and grabbed his head, pulling him into a brutal, raw kiss.

He replied with a growl. He slid his arms under my back, grabbed my shoulders, and laid claim to me. I raked at him, pulling him to me with all my strength. It was exactly what I wanted—what I needed. 

After a mind-blowing climax, I lay there, boneless, while he rolled onto his side, panting and sweaty. He lowered his head to the mattress next to mine, and pulled me tight against him.

Time was lost while I floated, the mattress unfeeling below me.

“I killed her.”

The words were soft, barely audible. “What?” I asked, confused.

“At the Dogs’ camp…” Clutch rolled onto his back. “Doyle left me in the silo, with one guard outside. Only it wasn’t a Dog. It was a woman.”

I pulled myself up onto my elbows and watched Clutch.

“He’d threatened to go after you and Jase if I tried to escape. He assumed I wouldn’t try it. He was wrong. He posted her outside my door. She had no training, no experience.”

I laid a hand on his heart. His muscles tensed.

“I killed her. Broke her neck so I could get out. I had to make sure you were safe.”

He jerked away, got up, and stood in front of the window.

I came to my feet. “It’s not your fault. Doyle forced your hand.”

“He didn’t force me to kill her.”

I walked over to him and watched him stare out over the dark valley below. “He did, in a way. He forced your hand. You did what you had to do. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be alive today. I wouldn’t be alive today.”

 He turned, looked into my eyes for a moment, then pulled away and grabbed his clothes and a bottle of whiskey. He paused at the top step. “She was Doyle’s wife.”