Page 39 of When the Living Fall

“Then what?” I shake my head. “Emily. If you show up there with an army of rotters behind you, they’ll turn those guns on your first for bringing them to their front door.” I glance back at the advancing horde and pull out my gun, taking out several more of them to buy us a few extra seconds of time. “I’m not going to make it, but you can.”

Her face twists in disbelief. “Max don’t do this,” she pleads, her voice thick with emotion and her words cracking.

She’s so beautiful when she’s worried about me. I can’t help but grin at her. “It’s okay, pet. I understand now that you didn’t leave me the same way Nathan did. Right now, though, I’m going to need you to leave. I need you to leave, to run away as far, and as fast, as you can, without looking back.” Shoving the gun back into my holster, I reach out to hold her face in my hands and pull her close. She looks up atme, her eyes brimming with the tears she tries to hold back. “I wish I’d been a better man for you.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, I close the gap between us and press my lips against hers. She tastes like warmth and fire. My fingers tangle in her wild hair. I like her hair like this so much, I’m glad I’ll never give her back the hair tie. She can have untamed hair for the rest of her life.

I devour her mouth. She tastes even more delicious than she did every other time I kissed her. This kiss is the best, because I know it’ll be the last. The world fades for only a second, all but her.

She’s breathless when I pull back; her lips parted as she stares at me. I give her a final push toward the road.

“Go, now,” I order.

I watch her vanish down the road before I’m swallowed up by the horde. I don’t know where anyone else is, but I don’t care. All I know is she’s going to be safe, and that’s something I can die with.

With her taken care of, I empty both clips into the advancing rotters. The sound fills the air like thunder, but it doesn’t matter. Every rotter in the vicinity is already coming here, anyway.

When my bullets run dry, I pull out Debbie, my best partner in crime. The only lady I’ll take down with me. She hums in my hand as I swing, a thrill of adrenaline coursing through me.

Laughter fills the wide-open town, and it takes a moment before I realize it’s my own. It sounds odd at a time like this. A normal person would be screaming, crying, or wailing into the sky to be spared. Not me. I laugh, wild and free, facing down the horde.

“Come at me, you filthy monstrosities.” My shout carries through the streets.

The rotters close in, too many to fight off, but I stand my ground. The more I can take out for Emily, the better.

This is it, I think, as they bear down on me. I swing my arms around, slicing the air with my blade, and slamming Debbie into rotter skulls. My arms grow tired, but I don’t give up, even though I know I’m done for.

My mouth opens wide with my screams to draw every single rotter toward me. I hope I bought her enough of a head start, because I can’t keep fighting them off any longer. If I’m lucky, these monsters will tear me apart enough so I can’t come after her in my rotter form.

The snarls coming from the horde are deafening, and drown out my screams. I always thought I would go out in a bloodbath, so I can’t say I’m disappointed.

I hold out my arms, close my eyes, and grin while I lift my face to the sky, with my pet’s face dancing in my vision like the first time I saw her. “Come and get me,” I whisper, accepting the end.

A sound cuts through the chaos—a heavy beat, loud and unmistakable, pulsing through the air.

That’s funny. I never expected heaven or hell to greet me with rock music. The beat is a good one, too. One that I can dance to through the pearly gates or the fiery pits. Wherever I’ve ended up, I like the welcome party.

I open my eyes to see which one meets my fate. The sun shines in the sky, the wide-open small town I’ve died in is still here, and the dead corpses slither away from me.

Wait…is this not the afterlife?

A battered red sedan comes tearing through the horde, plowing into the rotters like a battering ram. It screeches to a stop ahead of me, and my jaw drops when Emily jumps out.

She’s ethereal. Moving like a whirlwind, spinning and slashing through the rotters in time to the beat, her movements graceful and deadly, while killing every single rotter she encounters.

I’m so stunned by this that I remain standing in place, staring at the marvelous beauty of a woman.

She looks like a warrior goddess, bathed in the afternoon light, cutting down rotters with every step, every swing of her weapon. All I can do is watch, dumbfounded, as she works her way toward me.

With each rotter that falls, she draws closer, her face fierce and beautiful.

The music blares on, and Emily reaches into the car, pulling out a machine gun. A fucking machine gun, this woman.

She lifts it, firing at the horde. The recoil shakes her frame, but she doesn’t falter. She mows them down until there’s nothing left but silence, and the stench of rotting corpses around us.

Then she drops the machine gun—a fucking machine gun—and sprints over to me.

“Emily…” My voice catches as she closes the distance, her expression unreadable. I reach out my arms for her, but instead of running into my arms like I hoped, she shoves me hard in the chest. I stumble back.

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