What Remains: Untainted Read online

  He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “Fuck. Your hip is purple. Are you sure you didn’t break something when you fell today?”

  She dragged her gaze to her side, barely registering the discolored lump. Pain was a constant attribute, one that meant she was still alive. She moistened her lips, certain her voice would crack when she spoke. “I get them all the time. It’s nothing.”

  The furrow deepened. “Nothing? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

  “Truck, pavement. It has the same effect.”

  Barrett huffed behind her. “Don’t make light of getting hurt. We don’t find it amusing.”

  She turned to look at him. “Amusing? There are fucking dead people running around trying to eat us. I just sewed up a hole in your leg I could have fit a small child inside.” She stepped up against him, pushing him back with her chest as she motioned to her hip. “This is called survival. I’m thankful it’s something that’ll heal.” She rounded on Colby, palming her hands on her hips. “Seen enough yet?”

  She pushed past him, not bothering to pick up her clothes when his fingers closed around her wrist. She pulled against his hold, not wanting to be that close to him…to anyone.

  “Would you just stop resisting me for a second. Shit, we’re sorry, okay? It’s just…damn, we needed to be sure.”

  She glared at him, drawing her arm to her chest when he finally released her. “This isn’t about being right, it’s about doing what’s right.”

  Darcy scoffed, moving in beside Colby. “So you’re telling us you wouldn’t have put a bullet through our heads if we’d been infected?”

  The image roiled her stomach, and she clenched herself tighter, hoping she wouldn’t puke. “I don’t kill humans.”

  Colby crossed his arms on his chest. “If we were infected, we wouldn’t be human.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Until every last breath of humanity is gone, you’re still there. So no, if you’d been infected, I wouldn’t have killed you. Yes, I would have secured you, and yes, I would have been scared shitless. But until you turned, I would have savored every moment.” She drew a deep breath, looking them all in the eye before staring back at Colby. “There are some lines I won’t cross. They’re the fabric of what makes us human. Once those lines are gone, you need to ask yourself a question…what’s left worth fighting for? What distinguishes us from them besides a pulse?” More tears burned her eyes, and she didn’t stop them from falling as she turned and walked away.

  Darcy kicked at the floor. “What the hell just happened?”

  Barrett cursed. “We fucked up, that’s what.”

  Darcy glared at him, resisting the urge to go after her and shake some sense into her. “Why, because we’re willing to make the hard choices? Look, Barrett, as much as Abby doesn’t want to acknowledge it, those things out there used to be people. Do you really think it’s kinder to watch them die, knowing they’re completely aware of what they’ll become?”

  “Maybe it’s not our decision to make.” Barrett raised his hand as he limped over to a chair. “Regardless of what we believe, Abby doesn’t share our views. I don’t know about you guys, but…I care about what she thinks of us.”

  “We all care, but…”

  “But what?” Barrett turned to Darcy. “What if she’d been infected? Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me you would have killed her, Darcy? After all she did?” He looked around the room. “Am I the only one that feels—”

  “Don’t.” Colby picked up her clothes then stormed over to the door. “Don’t make this out to be more than it is. Did you see the way she trembled? She’s scared…of us.”

  Barrett shook his head. “She’s scared because she doesn’t know how to handle the sudden feelings…the prospect that she’s not the last human left alive. That there might be something worth living for after all.” He scoffed at Colby’s frown. “Right, so now I’m the only one who caught the scent of her arousal or saw how hard her nipples were.” He turned toward Darcy. “And don’t start with that it’s cold in here because you know that’s a crock of shit. She’s attracted to us, and that’s what scaring her.”

  Colby slammed his hand against the wall. “Well, then she’s not the only one.” He nodded at Darcy. “Barrett’s right. If she’d been infected, I don’t think I could have pulled the trigger…not this time.”

  Darcy sighed and leaned against the counter, the pounding in his chest making his legs feel strangely weak. “So where does that leave us? We’re recon specialists. We’re supposed to eliminate any and all threats.” He pointed to the back of the station. “If she’d been infected, she would have been a threat.”

  “Maybe we’ve been at this too long. Forgotten what’s it’s like to care.” Colby looked at Barrett then him. “I mean really care. About one person. Enough you’d break the rules, hell, to break rank.”

  “What are saying? You think it’s time we quit?” Darcy glanced outside, drawn to the mass of undead moving in the fading light. “Just give up?”

  “Not give up…live.” Colby looked at where Abby had disappeared. “I never knew how numb I was until she put her hand on my chest. God, it’s like she kick started my heart or something. I know it sounds crazy, but…maybe it’s time to consider a change in vocation. Put our energy into maintaining the security of the compound. Command won’t question this if we’re all in agreement.” He glanced back. “All four of us.”

  Darcy gave them a wry smile. “It’s been a long time since I tried to charm a lady into my bed, bro, let alone ask her to share it with my two best friends.” He shook his head. “I’m still not sure how that’s supposed to work.”

  “You and me, both.” Colby released a raspy breath. “Either way, we’re here for at least the night…longer if those things don’t dissipate. I say we do everything we can to make Abby see us as more than the cold-hearted soldiers she thinks we are. Who knows? Maybe Barrett’s right. Maybe Goldilocks just needs to know she’s not alone.”

  * * * *

  Barrett reclined on one of the mattresses, his injured leg propped up on a box as he pushed the cold food around his plate. Abby had finally re-emerged wearing her old shirt and a pair of cargo pants. Though not as form-fitting as her jeans, they hugged her ass perfectly, spiking his cock against the pants he’d finally managed to pull back on. God, she was beautiful…and pissed.

  She hadn’t spoken a word, just opened a bunch of cans and handed them each a plate of food. He’d tried to concentrate on eating, but the lengthening silence was slowly killing him. He’d glanced her way more than once, but she’d kept her head down, her gaze centered on her plate. She’d barely touched her food, and he looked over at Colby in desperation.

  The man shrugged. It was more than obvious Colby had no intentions of approaching her, not after the way she’d stormed off, tears tracking down her cheeks, her pain radiating off her in waves. And all because of them.

  Barrett cursed under his breath, ignoring the looks his buddies flashed him. He placed his plate on the floor and levered up, limping closer to her. A small tilt of her head was the only reaction he got as she continued to stare at the floor.

  He took a deep breath, knowing he’d rather have her scream at him than say nothing. “Abby.”

  Her shoulders bunched at his voice, but she didn’t look at him, making a point of turning to stare at the covered windows instead.

  He swore louder this time, taking the last two steps separating them and cupping her arm. “Damn it, Abby. You can scream and yell all you want but don’t just sit there and pretend we don’t exist.”

  Her gaze slowly rose to his, drifting to his hand then back again. Her lips pulled tight, the fine lines around her eyes crinkling slightly.

  Barrett sighed and released her, immediately missing the warm of her arm in his hand. “I know you’re upset with us, but…shit. We’re sorry.”

  Her lips got impossibly tighter, her gaze finding each man before settling on him again. “So
rry? For what? Your lack of humanity or my overabundance of it?”

  Her words hit him hard, and he could only stare at her as Colby slammed his hand against the counter, the sound of his boots on the hard floor filling the sudden silence.

  Colby stopped beside him, flanked on the other side by Darcy. “That’s not fair. We don’t kill people for sport. We spare them the agony of becoming those fucking mutants out there and ripping others into pieces.” He drew himself up. “Do you think letting them slowly change is kinder?”

  “This isn’t about kindness. It’s about staring someone in the eyes, knowing all they want is a bit more time. An hour, a day, maybe two.” Abby gained her feet, pushing through them as she marched across the room. She stared at the walls, her back rigid, her hands fisted at her sides before looking over her shoulder at them. “How many have you had to put down?”

  Barrett turned toward Colby, but the man just motioned him forward. Barrett took a few steps, the blood in his veins burning cold. “Not that many. By the time we got back from Afghanistan, the epidemic was in full swing. Most of our time has been spent eliminating those already turned. We haven’t found that many survivors…infected or otherwise.”

  She rounded on him. “How many?”

  Barrett glanced back at Colby and Darcy, seeing his pain mirrored in their eyes before addressing her again. “Twelve…including my stepsister.”

  Something flashed in Abby’s eyes as she looked away, but not before he saw a tear fade down her cheek. “God, Barrett.” Her arms cinched tight around her waist, and it sounded as if she was stopping herself from throwing up.

  Barrett moved closer, gently touching her arm. She jerked it away, taking three quick steps toward the wall before kicking it in seeming frustration. A ragged sob lit the air as she slowly pivoted, her obvious pain written across her features. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe watching, waiting for them to die is crueler.” She held up her hand when he tried to interrupt. “No. It’s true. They know what they’ll become. What they’ll do once they turn. But…”

  She studied each man, and Barrett had to fist his hands to keep from going to her side. She looked broken, defeated.

  Tears slipped along her cheeks as she glanced at the windows. “How do you kill someone when they beg you not to? When they truly believe that maybe they won’t change. That the infection won’t kill them.” Her lips pursed together for a moment. “When they’d rather have you cut off an arm or a leg on the slim chance that maybe, just maybe the disease hasn’t spread through their bloodstream yet.”

  She scrubbed a hand across her face. “It never worked. I was always too late, but the real problem is—I believed too. I stood there, hoping and praying right along with them, even though I saw their skin changing color, saw them slowly slipping away. I kept thinking that maybe they’d be the one to fight this, to have some kind of natural immunity to it. That if I killed them too soon, I might miss that one chance at a cure…hell, that there even is a cure to this…this…”

  She sighed, the small sound breaking Barrett’s heart.

  He stepped closer, careful not to touch her. “That doesn’t sound like an easier road to me. In fact, it sounds like you did everything you could.”

  Her mouth twitched. “It wasn’t enough…never enough. They all died, and in the end, I killed them.” She looked at him. “I told myself I was upholding my oath, but that was just a lie to hide the fact I couldn’t do it…I couldn’t kill them without some form of moral high ground. Until they changed into some kind of monster.”

  Barrett swore and reached for her, pulling her close. She resisted until her head hit his chest and his arms closed around her, holding her tight. Her body shuddered, and he knew she was fighting not to cry.

  He closed his eyes, drawing a hand down her hair. The familiar scent of woman surrounded him, and his heart jackhammered at the overwhelming peacefulness of having her in his arms. Feeling her small body mold to his. She was far from fragile, but the thought that he could offer her some measure of comfort made him feel strong. Needed.

  He smiled, savoring the warm press of her hands on his chest when she stiffened and pushed against him. He unfolded his arms, watching as she backed up a few steps, her arms once again circling her chest. It was as if any human contact frightened her.

  He took a step forward. “Abby? Are you okay?”

  Her muscles tensed as she glanced at Colby and Darcy before leveling her gaze at him. Tears welled in her eyes, and he could see the slight tremors that racked her body. He held his ground, not willing to let her leave without some kind of response.

  The vein in her temple pulsed as she sighed and toed the floor with her shoe. “Fine, it’s just…” She waved at the three of them. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been around people—since I’ve had a conversation with anyone other than myself.”

  Barrett arched a brow. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Not bad, just different.”

  He snorted. That wasn’t the real reason she pulled the rabbit act whenever one of them got close, and it was about time she admitted it. “How long have you been on your own?”

  She glanced at his friends as they lined up beside him, a solid boundary of human flesh. He didn’t miss the way her pupils dilated, hiding more of the brilliant green. Or how her breathing increased, her chest rising and falling rapidly against her crossed arms. A light flush crept along her cheeks and down her neck, disappearing into the collar of her shirt.

  Barrett sighed inwardly. There was no mistaking their presence aroused her. Even if she hid the way her nipples beaded into hard points behind her arms or masked the subtle scent of her desire with distance, he knew it was there surely as he knew there were zombies stumbling around outside. He just wasn’t sure what the root cause was. Were they simply the first men she’d seen in months, or was there something about them that called to her on a deeper level—one that went beyond convenience and desperation?

  Abby shuffled her feet, the soft sound drawing his attention. She looked at the windows before releasing a shuddering breath, leaning against the counter behind her. “A while.”

  “That’s not an answer.” Barrett motioned to the three of them. “We’ve been at this for nearly a year. So how long?”

  She pursed her lips. “Six months, two weeks and three days.”

  Colby cursed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Without any kind of human contact?”

  She gave them a wry smile. “Not the kind a girl wants.”

  Darcy shook his head. “So you haven’t talked or touched a person in half a year?”

  “Everyone that’s tried to touch me only wants to gouge my eyes out, so no. I haven’t had any human contact on any level. Period.”

  “Shit, Abby. That’s a long time to face this kind of horror on your own.” Barrett moved forward, praying she wouldn’t simply run. “I guess we’ve had it easy in comparison. We’ve always had each other. Always knew someone had our back. Can’t imagine everything you had to face…alone.”

  She shrugged, though he could see the tears building again behind her lashes. “You get used to it.”

  He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Is that why you shy away if any of us get remotely close?” He took a step closer. “Or is there another reason?”

  Her lips pulled tight as she stared at him, fear flashing in her eyes. He wanted to close the distance and hold her again, but he knew she’d only push him away. While he had no doubt the lack of human interaction was a part of her wariness, he had a feeling there was another reason she was keeping them at arm’s length. One that hit much closer to home.

  “I think there’s another reason, one you don’t want to think about. One that’s been eating you up inside.” He took one more step, stopping close enough he could have touched her if he’d reached out his hand. “Everything you’ve said leads me to believe you’ve had some hard choices to make, and I think that’s the reason you don’t want to get too close. You
don’t want to care, in case you have to put us down.”

  Her chin quivered before she held it high, her jaw visibly clenching. “You’re not infected. There’s no reason to put you down.”

  “Not right now, maybe, but what about in a week? Or a month?” He inched closer. “If you care, that possibility is always hanging over you. How many have you had to put down?”

  She shut her eyes, looking as if she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. He exhaled, closing the last bit of distance as he ran one hand down her arm. Her body trembled beneath his touch, but she didn’t pull away, a soft moan reaching his ears.

  He cupped her face in his hand and lifted until she had no other choice but to look at him. “How many?”

  Her brow furrowed as she nuzzled her head into his hand. He held his breath, wondering if this was the moment they’d been waiting for. If she was finally going to drop her defenses and let them in. Allow them a chance to show her they were more than just ruthless soldiers.

  A shiver raced through her then she stiffened, once again distancing herself as she drew herself up, stepping back and wrapping her arms around her. “Technically, none.”

  She pushed past him, stopping when Darcy and Colby stepped in front. They didn’t touch her, just blocked her retreat. She held her ground, not flinching when the distance between them diminished.

  Barrett moved in behind, brushing his chest against her back. “You’re deflecting. Just tell us how many.”

  She rounded on him, her chest knocking his, sending tendrils of heat racing through his body. Damn, just a hint of contact and he was lost. He couldn’t remember the last time any woman had touched his heart that way—when he’d cared so much in such a short time.

  She locked on his gaze. “I told you. I don’t kill humans, so I’ve never ‘put someone down’ like you’re thinking. Every life I’ve taken has been one of those…things.”

  She choked back a sob, the garbled sound like a punch to his gut. He wanted to gather her in his arms, make the pain creasing her eyes disappear, but he held fast. Colby and Darcy flashed him identical, desolate glances as Abby stood there, her small frame shaking slightly as she shifted nervously from foot to foot, her strong bravado on the brink of crumbling.