Page 57 of Glass Rose
“So,” I begin. “What were you like? Before all this?”
Gavin scans the forest, every sense clearly on high alert. “Not the time for conversation.”
“I can multitask.”
“Sofia—”
“I’m serious. I don’t know anything about you except a portion of what they did to you at Green.” I adjust the radio on my belt. “Were you married? Have kids? Like pineapple on pizza? Basic stuff.”
“No to all three.”
“See? Progress.” I duck under a low-hanging branch. “Where did you grow up?”
“All over. Military brat.” Each step of his is muted despite his size. “The longest was three years.”
“Is that where you learned to hunt?”
“Uncle’s cabin.”
“And—”
He halts again, turning to face me. “You want to do this now? With infected nearby?”
“Seems like the only chance I’ll get.”
“What do you really want to ask?”
“Why won’t you stay? Why won’t you?—”
“Finish me?” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “That what you’re asking?”
Heat floods my face. “I wasn’t going to be that crude, but yeah.”
“Because—” His eyes dart over my shoulder. “Down. Now.”
THIRTEEN
SOFIA
He shoves me behind a fallen log, his body covering mine. Through a gap in the rotting wood, I spot three infected stumbling between trees, their movements jerky and uncoordinated. One wears the tattered remains of a park ranger uniform.
“Don’t move,” he breathes against my ear.
His weight forces me into the damp earth, one hand braced beside my head, the other on his belt. I feel every inch where our bodies connect—his chest against my back, hips against my ass, thighs against mine.
“This position—” I whisper.
“Shut up.” But I feel his smile against my hair. “And wait here.”
He unsheathes his machete and flows between the trees until he’s directly behind them. With a few swift strikes, he severs their heads from their bodies, the machete slicing through flesh and bone with terrifying ease. The corpses drop, twitching briefly before going still.
Gavin turns to me, machete dripping crimson onto the forest floor. “You okay?”
A gurgling beside me raises the hair on my arms. I spin to face another infected, its female form lurching toward me from between the trees.
No time to think. No time for fear. Pure instinct.
I dodge the creature’s grasping hands, pivot on my heel, and drive my father’s knife upward through its chin.
