Page 14 of After the Burn

Like he’d known something bad was going to happen.

I woke with a sharp inhale, my body already moving before my mind caught up, my hand snapping to my knife as if the threat had followed me out of the dream.

Max was on his feet instantly, a low, dangerous growl vibrating through the room.

“Taryn?” Lila’s voice cut through the dark, tight with sleep and concern.

I took a deep breath, trying to slow my heart rate. “It’s fine,” I said, even though the words felt like a lie the second they left my mouth.

I lay back down, staring into the dark, but sleep didn’t come again.

Because this time, it wasn’t the gunfire that stayed with me.

It wasn’t the blood.

It was my father’s cold, dead eyes.

CHAPTER TWO

LUCAS

The pump squealed every time I forced the handle down, the rusted metal protesting loud enough to echo through the quiet morning.

I paused for a moment to make sure that it hadn’t drawn any infected my way.

Hearing nothing, I resumed my chore.

Water splashed into the bucket at my feet in uneven bursts as cold air settled against the back of my neck, sharp enough to wake me faster than anything else except maybe a strong cup of coffee.

The sun hadn’t fully risen, and everyone in the house was still asleep. I loved the silence before the day's chaos began, because I could almost pretend the world was still normal.

With one hand braced on the old well's side, I worked the handle once more, my jaw tightening at the metal's groan under my grip.

I was still getting used to the fact that, in a sense, I was now Hercules. I smirked, thinking about the look on Adrian’s face when I mentioned that to him… he was always such a stick-in-the-mud.

We were lucky to have found this place. After weeks on the road, dodging the infected and trying to keep everyone alive after the disaster at Ben’s place, the old farmhouse seemed like a gift from God.

It sat at the end of a long driveway, hidden behind dead fields and overgrown trees that had long since been abandoned. We’d been here for a while, and I didn’t know how much longer it would be feasible for us to stay.

When we initially came across the place, we all assumed that no one was living there.

We’d been wrong. Well, we had the living part correct.

The family had been upstairs. Parents in bed and two little girls curled together between them.

No blood.

No signs of a struggle.

Just an empty pill bottle on the nightstand beside a folded note, none of which we bothered to read beyond the first sentence.

I swallowed hard and focused on the bucket, rather than thoughts better left in the past.

It was easier that way.

The journey here had been bad enough. Too many roads and too many horrible sights that my human mind still had trouble processing.

People were so desperate, they were ready to kill over half a bottle of water or a can of beans. I understood, though, because I’d do whatever it took to survive and protect those I cared about.