“It’s dead. You hit it,” he said, stunned.
“Are you hurt?” Roslyn rushed to him, almost tripping over in the process. She was shaking with adrenalin. How she’d managed to hit anything he did not know. He was just thankful she hadn’t hit him.
“No, I’m fine.” He climbed back to his feet. “You did good.”
“Thanks.”
“You really got him with that second shot.”
“The first was a warning shot,” she said, taking a deep breath. “You needed to cover your face.”
Huh. “That was on purpose?”
She nodded. “I was only five or six meters away. Unlikely I’d mess up and hit you at that range.”
“Oh,” he said. “Good job. But I could have handled it.”
She cocked her head. “It was about to fall on top of you, Nick. I couldn’t just do nothing.”
“No,” he said. “It couldn’t reach me. Its arm had caught on something. It was stuck. Come on, let’s gather this stuff and get out of here.”
He did a more thorough search of the wreck while Roslyn carried some of the boxes to the pickup. Hanging around after firing the shots wasn’t smart. But if they could just secure the food rations and medical supplies, round up the last of the weapons, they’d be doing well. She would be welcomed into Blackstone with open arms. No way could they say no with all this in the offering.
“Nick.” She stood staring at the cockpit hatch, eyes so wide he could only see white.
“What?”
“It moved.” She pointed at the dead infected, hand trembling.
“Ros, you killed it.”
“Yeah.” She stared at the thing, face deathly white in the low lighting. “I know, but it moved.”
She’d had a long day. Hell, he’d had a long day. They had enough supplies.
He cupped her face in his hands. Her wide eyes didn’t meet his, still trying to watch the infected.
“Let’s find some place safe for the night,” he suggested. “I’ll pick a fight with you and then we can have make-up sex. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She gave him a pissy look. “I’m serious. It moved.”
“Probably just air escaping.”
“No. I know what I saw.”
Everything was quiet outside. There was nothing to disguise the noise of a fast-approaching vehicle. His heart punched hard. Shit, no. Getting caught in the wreckage wasn’t good. Tires squealed as someone slammed on the brakes. Car doors were thrown open.
“Get down. Stay behind me,” he ordered. Ros pulled her gun from the back of her belt as he chambered a round in his own. They both knelt behind the rows of seats, cornered by the newcomers. Fuck no. This was bad. “I’m serious. Stay back.”
“Hellooo!” a male voice called from outside. “Anybody there?”
Someone else spoke. There were at least two of them. Two people he could handle. And he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them both if they were a threat.
“Hey! Anyone in there?” The voice sounded oddly familiar. But it was the next one that turned him stone cold.
“Pete, you see anything?”
No reply. Of course there was no reply. Pete would be working off signals, keeping silent because silent was smarter. If nothing else, Pete could be a clever bastard. Clever and f**king nasty. Not the sort of person he wanted around Ros. Nick could only hope the pricks were still wary enough of him to make no sudden moves on her. Amongst their group he’d been one of the fastest on the draw and he had never backed down when it mattered. Even Emmet had never directly challenged him.
One time a member of their party had taken exception to him. Not long after New Years, when the plague had well and truly set in and the dead lay rotting on the ground. The bastard had come up on him from behind and attempted to slit his throat. Nick had gutted him and left him to die, eaten alive by infected. The screams had gone on and on. He wasn’t proud of it, but he’d done it. And if it kept Roslyn safe he’d do it again in an instant.
“I need you to trust me,” Nick said, his mouth close to her ear. “No matter what, you trust me. Okay?”
“But …”
“Trust me, Ros. Please.”
Her pretty face scrunched up, but she nodded. “Alright.”
“Pete, that you?” he called out, his voice echoing through the space. “It’s Nick.”
“Nick?”
“Yeah, mate.”
“Fuck me. We thought you were dead.” Pete chuckled and they heard the sounds of heavy footsteps approaching. “Man, this is great.”
Either they’d shoot him straight up, or he was in with a chance. Hard to tell which, with old friends like these. Justin and Pete had been thrown out of Blackstone at the same time as him, but they’d parted company straight away. More accurately, he’d taken off on them. They were trouble. They’d been in tight with Emmet, their former sergeant. Emmet had been a vicious prick. He’d been the one to decide that they’d do surveillance on Blackstone and attack it when the time was right. Round up the women and dispose of the rest. Emmet had been a f**king psychopath, and that was putting it lightly.
Nick rose to his feet, gun still in hand. If it came to a showdown, he couldn’t beat them both. Plus, Ros might get hurt in the crossfire. There had to be a better way to get out of this.
“Thought you guys were heading north,” Nick said for something to say. He should have known they’d be hanging around Blackstone, still plotting revenge. Not as if they’d have anything else to live for. But he had Ros, and he should have been a f**kload more careful.
“We got bored.” Pete looked the same as always, big and mean. His smile didn’t set Nick at ease in the least. Justin was smaller, but definitely more dangerous. He watched Nick warily, gaze all over his weapon. Let them be careful. That would give Nick more time.
“Who you got with you?” Justin asked. Of course he did. There was no getting out of it.
Slowly, Ros rose to her feet. “Hi.”
“You got yourself a girl? Fuck me.” Pete grinned, gaze glued to the curves of Ros’s br**sts. Nick wanted to gouge the f**ker’s eyeballs out with his bare hands. Holding back was hard. Thank God she wore a few layers. Eventually, Pete shook his head and laughed. “I mean … sorry. It’s been a while since we’ve seen a woman. I’m Pete, this is Justin.”