When All is Lost

Chapter 55

We only ran for ten minutes before Ian came to a swift halt, making me nearly lose my balance as his steady grip brought me to a stop as well. He helped me regain my footing in the snow as I looked up at the stately, yellow house in front of us.

The place should have been charming – it likely once was – but the royal blue front door was banged up and the windows on either side of it were shattered. The place looked anything but safe and I was about to state as much when I caught Ian's smile widen into a grin.

"Here," he stated. "This is it."

He began to take off his backpack and coat and for the first time, I realized that he was no longer carrying his rifle. Instead, he was holding what looked like a small sledgehammer or a metal mallet of some kind. Ian caught me looking at it and gave me a wink.

"Good find, right?"

I nodded along. I could tell he was trying to break some of the tension, but the stiffness in his shoulders and down-turned corners of his smile gave him away.

"There's a zombie in this house," he told me as he put his backpack back on and held his coat, continuing to speak in a calm and sure voice. "Don't be alarmed by it, okay? I'm going to go in first, then you count to fifteen and follow me. Make as much noise as you can."

With his mallet in one hand and his coat in the other, he moved over to the window to the left of the front door. When I didn't move with him, he looked back again.

"You good?" His eyes showed his concern even as he kept his tone light.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But what are we doing? What are you doing?" I asked, balling my cold hand more tightly around my knife to stop myself from crossing my arms.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

I nearly rolled my eyes. "Of course I do. This has nothing to do with trust. Why can't you just-"

"Then let me take the lead on this." Ian gave me a nod of reassurance. "I got you."

He made a move for the window again when I took a fumbled few steps after him, reaching out with an arm to stop him. "Wait. But-"

He had the audacity to roll his eyes at me as he turned back to me and grabbed me by my shoulders, effectively stilling me.

"Stay," he ordered, sounding almost amused.

"Ian." I was becoming annoyed, momentarily forgetting the havoc-reeking torment that had been filling my mind since my capture.

Laughter danced behind Ian's eyes as he observed me. It was as though he was taking delight in my every expression. I began to feel heat rising to my cheeks when he bent down and lightly kissed my lips.

It was so sudden and short that by the time I gasped in surprise he'd already pulled away. Stepping back from me, his features became softer.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said quietly, letting his words fall drift away with the icy wind.

Before I could respond, he climbed through the window and disappeared into the house. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, but for once it felt... good.

Taking a deep breath, I counted, listening in case Ian needed me sooner. I had to focus. Ian and I needed to talk, but it had to wait.

Eight.

But he kissed me.

Maybe it was our dire situation or my brush with death, but I knew from the way he looked at me that something had shifted between us.

Focus.

Ten.

My excitement dimmed as gnawing fear began to twist my insides. Hope couldn't make me forget the truth. Everything was breaking apart. I felt the blood of my victims saturating my skin. It would never come off.