Sorrow's Gift

Chapter Five: Crash

Crash threw the Humvee into gear and sped into the garage. He jumped out and ran toward the gate, ready to help Parrish and Noah get inside before it closed.

Fear pulsed through him as Noah's scream echoed off the nearby buildings. Crash reached inside the cab of the Humvee for his gun.

"What's happening?" Karmen yelled, her shrill voice filled with terror.

"I don't know," he said. "Stay here."

"Wait, don't—"

He slammed the door on her words. He pulled the gate closed as best he could, leaving just enough room to squeeze through to the outside. If he didn't come back, at least the girls would be safe in there for now.

Crash peppered the area with machine-gun fire as he rushed over to where a mob of rotters had descended on Noah's body.

Shit, man. This was all his fault. He hadn't moved fast enough to get the truck inside. He hadn't planned this whole thing out enough, and now one of their group was down. After all his work and planning to get the five of them together, he couldn't believe he was about to watch one of them die just a few feet from safety.

Parrish kicked two of the rotters off Noah's body, then spun around, sword in hand. With a furious strength, she sliced through five more of the zombies feeding on Noah. Her sword glowed with a dim blue light that left tracers in the darkness.

Crash's heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his throat. Apparently this chick had things under control as far as Noah was concerned, so Crash turned and started spraying the approaching mob with gunfire.

"Help me get him up," she shouted when she'd killed all the ones biting at Noah. Her voice was stern and wild and commanding.

Crash shot off a few more bursts of bullets then reached down to grab Noah's outstretched hand.

He was still alive. But for how long?

Crash had seen plenty of videos over the past few weeks. He knew that even if someone seemed to be immune to the virus itself, a bite from one of those things would kill even the strongest men. And once they died—

"Move. Now," Parrish shouted.

Noah was on his feet and he threw one arm over each of their shoulders as they ran toward the gate.

Growls and moans and footsteps followed them, but Crash didn't dare look back. All he cared about was getting them inside. God help Noah once they got there, though. He wouldn't have much time before he turned.

Parrish was not going to take it well when they had to put him down. Crash wasn't sure what their relationship was to each other, but he could see it in her eyes. She cared about this guy. She wasn't going to let him go without a fight.

They reached the gate and Karmen pushed it open just far enough for the three of them to slip inside.

"I told you to stay in the truck," he said.

"Last I checked, I don't take orders from you," she said.

Crash's eyes lingered on the blonde's long tanned legs. Man, if they weren't all doomed here, he would have liked to stand there a few minutes and appreciate the view. She was hot, and she had attitude.

Just the way he liked it.

He propped Noah against the wall next to the gate and pulled it closed just as the group of hungry rotters reached them. He closed the three locks on the fence and moved back, a dozen bloody hands reaching through the chain links toward him.