“Yes, you did,” she laughed. “You’re the epitome of pushy.”
He sighed. “Busted. Out of curiosity, if you weren’t scared, then what were you? When you were staring at me just now, I mean.”
“Maybe a little scared.”
“Ah. Okay. If I’m not allowed to get away with telling fibs, even the little ones that don’t hurt anyone, same goes for you, babe.” Blue eyes bored into her. “If it makes you feel any better, you scare me too.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Daniel hated the moaning. It might drive him crazy.
One of them still bumped around outside, knocking over potted plants and banging into wind chimes. Daniel watched Ali by the light of the candle but she didn’t stir, thank god. His girl needed her sleep.
She might have begun curled up in a tight ball but she was a bed hog at heart and after weeks of sleeping up in an attic, he didn’t much blame her. He hadn’t been able to sleep. Every time he lay down, his nightmares started.
Besides, her presence excited the hell out of him.
To have company was great, amazing. But to have her as company thrilled him right down to his toes and all the way back up again.
So instead of sleeping, he enjoyed the view, sitting at the end of the wonky double bed, which in al likelihood predated him. His girl defied the laws of gravity splayed out the way she was, with the sizeable dip in the mattress toward the center. She was lying on her back with her limbs spread-eagle, nothing more than white panties and a tank top covering her on account of the hotbox humidity.
Daniel couldn’t help but appreciate the nice thin cotton.
Not only sensible for summer but perfect for spying what lay beneath, like the val ey between her breasts and the shadow between her thighs. That he could make out the lips of her * was probably pure imagination.
Dark blonde hair was spread out across the pil ow, her pretty face turned away. The slow, even rise and fal of her breasts mesmerized him. Hypnotized.
He could watch her sleep for hours.
He likely would.
He had considered taking himself in hand, getting some relief, but no. For some dumb reason it felt like cheating. As if it would take something away from finding her, from waiting for her and winning her.
And he would. His commitment was total.
Apart from the moaning, things were good – body washed, bel y ful , and his girl laid out for his viewing pleasure. Tortured, but good.
The window was boarded and a chest of drawers sat in front of the door, his girl’s shotgun in pride of place on top. She had actually gone to sleep with it beside her. He’d moved it to higher ground at the first opportunity.
Besides the hundred and one locks and the bars on every window, no less than guns and barricades would have convinced her to sleep in the house as opposed to up in the attic.
He moved the drawers aside careful y, quietly, and stepped out into the dark hallway.
Ali had refused to use the main bedroom, wouldn’t even go near the closed door. It was as if she hit an invisible wall a body’s length from it and – bam! – got no further.
People had done some horrible things to survive. He knew he had, the worst of it keeping him awake at night, scared of what might come out of the dark. The virus had made monsters of everyone.
Deep down, he knew what he would find.
He didn’t go in, just stood in the hallway and opened the door. The hinges creaked ominously as it swung open. No need for the warning, the smell was sufficient. The smal flashlight he used gave him smal , tight circles of light. Sensible, since the infected seemed to find their meals by sight and sound alone.
There was a lot of blood on the floor. The human body held liters of the liquid. It had seeped into the carpet and dried, making a stain of darkness among the pale pink. An old-fashioned marble lamp lay discarded close by, its heavy base covered in more blood.
This was Ali’s secret then. She had bashed her infected, elderly neighbor’s skul in with a lamp base.
His stomach clenched. Shit, his poor girl.
A gun was much simpler and cleaner by comparison. Faster, even if the eventual toll remained no easier to pay.
He pulled the door closed and continued on with his tour, up the aluminum ladder till he reached the manhole. He doubted she could have done more than move around the tiny attic on her knees. As lodgings went, it was hot as an oven and thick with dust, way claustrophobic.
Never the fuck again would she go up there if he had anything to do with it.
Daniel descended the ladder and padded back to the guest room, rearranged the drawers against the door and tugged off his t-shirt.
Night had failed to appreciably cool off the house. It remained sweltering with the windows closed and no electricity to turn on the fans.
She had moved in his absence, rolled over onto her side so those pale plush limbs fell into alignment. She’d even tucked a hand beneath her cheek.