Flesh

“It was. I saw them, well, I heard them.”

 

Santa’s mouth contorted into a grimace, vaguely sympathetic, but mostly skeptical. “Ali. You’ve had a dreadful experience. We are going to get to the bottom of what the hell went on here yesterday. But don’t you think …”

 

“Stop. Right there.” Finn slid down off the forklift, stood beside her. “She says it was dogs, it was dogs.”

 

“Look at this. Look at what they did. You really think it could be anything other than an animal?” Dan gestured to the mess of blood and gore with the water bottle. He turned Al away from the scene, herding her toward Finn.

 

Finn put his arms out eagerly, unashamedly. He tried not to let it bother him when she frowned and turned back to face off with Santa.

 

“I wasn’t imagining anything. I wasn’t hal ucinating. They were dogs, a pack of them, and they had red eyes.” Their girl stared down the old bastard, daring him to argue. “I’ve never seen anything like it. A bunch of infected had gathered down here, I think they heard when I kicked in the window. It was over so fast … There was another light, too, near town.”

 

“Ali …” Santa started.

 

“We believe you,” Erin said, when her father didn’t make the right noises.

 

And Santa might have appeared chastened, but he didn’t seem convinced. “Right. Well, let’s take this discussion somewhere safer, hmm?”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

 

 

Standing in the shower, Daniel’s girl was a kaleidoscope of colors.

 

Finn washed her down with the utmost of care. There were bruises ranging from black and blue to murky greens and yellows. There were fresh red scratches and the softer pink of older wounds. They needed to take better care of her. But any attempt at discussing it was met with her silence.

 

The kid was down to her knees, rubbing at some imaginary patch of dirt. Their girl was squeaky clean. Finn probably just wanted to keep his hands on her, keep touching her. Who could blame him?

 

Dan watched the slow, delicate process with his arms crossed and his back to the wall. He was barely holding himself together, just waiting for her to snap out of it and come back to life. She remained as silent as a living doll.

 

Her gaze, however, kept sliding back to the pistol in his belt. They were back to that, God help them. He really hoped she wasn’t going to try to sleep with firearms under the pillow.

 

He still buzzed with adrenalin, wound up with no one on hand to beat the living shit out of. Yet. Thank God she was safe.

 

The kid kept on and on with the bathing.

 

Final y, when she wavered on her feet, ripe with gooseflesh, Finn reached for a towel. Much patting and dabbing of shiny pink skin ensued. Then the kid slathered her in antiseptic cream. He treated her like spun glass, a fairytale princess receiving her due.

 

Sweet, but enough. His girl was ready to collapse from exhaustion.

 

“My turn,” he said. “Up and out, babe. Time for bed.”

 

“Wait.” She gripped his shoulder, most likely to push him away, but he already had it sorted. Ali was up in his arms and halfway to the bed piled high with pil ows before any coherent argument could be found. “Dan, I can walk.”

 

“No. Finn?” Dan lay her down on the mattress. Finn was already pulling off his soaked shirt, toeing off shoes and socks. “Everyone’s getting some sleep. See?”

 

“Definitely.” Finn, naked in a nanosecond, climbed in beside her and lay on his side. He shuffled over til his nose nearly brushed the side of her face. When she made to rise, the kid threw an arm over her waist. Carefully. “Stay put. What do you need? Dan can get it.”

 

He didn’t even need those rosebud lips to impart it.

 

“She wants a gun. She’s not getting it. You are not reverting to sleeping curled around a firearm, babe. Not. Happening.” Dan yanked his shirt off over his head, not bothering with buttons, then got to work on the lower half. “Don’t even try it with me.”

 

The sudden mutinous glare she shot back bumped up his heart rate. Their girl had come back to life. It did him good to see it. He knew then she’d be okay.

 

“Shh, it’s fine.” The kid touched his lips to her cheek, stroked her arm with his fingertips. Trying to instil some peace and calm, for al the good it would do him. His girl was overtired and wired, ripe for a fight. “There are two handguns and a rifle behind the bed. All within easy reach, Al. You can get to them in no time if you need to. Okay?”

 

Their bristly babe frowned, thought it over a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

 

“Good.” Finn’s eyes drifted closed.

 

“Suck up.” Dan muttered at the kid, then finished getting undressed and crawled onto the bed. He settled in flush against her, threading her fingers through his. Ignoring his ever hopeful dick.