Page 28 of Resurrection
That leaves us with the only option left: destruction of the brain by blunt force trauma.
It has to be subtle—no noise and no sudden movements both inside or outside the car. Which means after we kill him, we can’t let him fall. At least notyet. I can only hope he’s not one of those overly decomposed ones that’s going to fall apart the minute one of us touches it.
Barely a whisper comes out of me as I look at Jax, softly telling him my plan. He nods and lifts the blanket to get into position by the window our friend is currently trying to claw its way into. I move next, lightly sliding into the passenger seat, petting Sadie where she sits in thefootwell while Jax simultaneously gives her a command to stay down. Leaning over the passenger seat, I pull out my knife—a large, seven-inch, fixed blade Kabar—and stare death right in its gnarly face. Once I nod, indicating that I’m ready, Jax grasps the window lever and begins a countdown.
Three…
Two…
One…
As quick as he can, Jax cranks the lever so the window rolls down just enough for the zombie’s head and shoulders to enter the vehicle. He grabs it by the back of its collar at the same time I go to thrust my knife straight through the underside of its jaw and up into his—
“Hawk... Wait,” Cole interrupts.
I pause, lowering my knife, and turn to Cole, but directly in front of him, outside the cover of the blankets, is Aly, staring face to face with the zombie. An absolutely fearsome sight. Beautiful. Powerful. Savage. Her eyes blaze like fire as she grits her teeth, panting out her fury. Jax and I are taken aback by the sight, completely awestruck at our perfect woman. So much so that we don’t even register her next move until it’s completely over.
*Squelch*
My eyes trail back to the window. To the ten-inch screwdriver embedded deep into the side of its skull. And then to the handle, still clenched in Aly’s stone-cold, grip.In an instant, the interloper is dead. Like dead-dead. Not… well, you know.
Oooooh, I think I just came a little. I swear I fucking love this girl.
When the hell did she get out from under the backseat? And where the hell did she get the screwdriver from? We both look to Cole who seems equally perplexed, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene.
Turning my attention back to Aly, I slowly raise my hands—one going to loosen her grip on the tool, the other to her cheek—turning her dead stare away from the corpse and back to mine. “Sweetheart? Let us take care of the rest. Go sit back down with Cole for a sec, ok?” Without a nod, without a single response, she turns and slowly descends back to her original place on the floor, as if nothing happened at all.
Jax reaffirms his grip on the collar of its tattered shirt and holds on tight, keeping the zombie upright and still. One look at the wanderers outside shows they’re completely oblivious to what just transpired.
Thank. Fuck.
Switching up, I grab ahold of the body as Jax re-cranks the window back up, securing the zombie in place as our own adopted ooey, gooey decoy. Once the window proves to hold it steady and we confirm that the zombie’s consistency is a solid mass rather than Jell-o, Jax leans into the back of the wagon, retrieves some more baby wipes and sanitizer, and hands them to me. Thank God this thing has the cargo space connected to the rest of thecar’s body versus a trunk. That would have sucked. Sitting here, covered in zombie sludge… Ugh.
Once we’re cleaned-up, we turn our attention back to Aly, wiping her hands and arms down as well. Cole’s been keeping her mind occupied—moving his fingers across her face, caressing her with his calming touch—while slowly drawing her back to him as he breathes in time with her. “That’s our girl. You’re doing so well,” he praises, the low and smooth cadence of his voice proving effective at helping her relax, even if it’s just a little bit. “You destroyed that darkness so well. Come back to the light, now. We’ve got you.” Without looking away from Aly, Cole whispers to Jax and me, “Ok, fuck the sounds. Let’s work on what she feels.” We nod our heads in understanding and return to our original positions surrounding her.
“What she feels...,” Cole whispers thoughtfully, continuing to run his fingers over her cheek, her neck, across her scalp. He then releases a heavy exhale, deep and grumbling, right next to her ear….
And shehearsit.Feelsit.
She gasps, her hips lifting from the floor slightly as she undulates her pelvis in the limited space she has. Cole looks to me and Jax for reassurance, perhaps even permission to encourage her outlet. We see the reaction her body’s giving him, and while this might be bending the rules of consent—given that she’s still not completely out of her panic attack yet—it's working. It’s drawing her focus away from fear and towards a different, yet equally,powerful emotion. Without hesitation, we each nod emphatically, while Jax mutters, “Do it.”
Cole wraps his arms around her, the pressure of his hands rubbing across her body causing the same gasping reaction, but now stokes a fire in her eyes. “Aly… Whose breath do you feel crawling across your ear?” He licks his lips again as he continues, stroking her hair down her neck next. “Who’s giving you all those wonderful tingles that shoot sparks through your body?” She rocks her hips again, harder this time. Cole’s voice deepens. “Aly... Whose cock are you begging for? What’s my name?” He pulls back to look straight into our girl’s eyes.
“Cole… It’s Cole’s,” she says under a stuttered breath. Her eyes are still distant and glossy but she’s responsive.
“That’s right, beautiful.” Cole nods to us to keep going as he continues holding her against himself.
Jax takes his cue and lifts her fingers to his lips, sucking the tips of each one into his mouth. Cole continues asking his questions, his breath against her ear making her shiver not in fear but in arousal. “Who’s that, pretty girl?” He tilts her head gently to Jax’s direction, making her focus on him now. “Who’s sucking on your fingers? Licking them? Savoring your taste on them?”
It takes a few seconds, but eventually she responds breathlessly, “Jax….”
My turn.
With my shirt still off, I lift her other hand, pressing her palm to my chest, running her fingers down the dips and grooves of my abs. She turns quickly to see my naked chest directly above her once again, a shuttered breath leaving her lips. I loosen my grip, allowing her to explore further and—thank everything holy—she does so. Her fingertips dance along my skin, goosebumps following the trail she creates. That tiny movement—her taking control once again—makes us all release a collective sigh of relief.
“There’s our girl.”
Chapter Fifteen
