BOOK ONE
She had her whole life planned.
What she didn't plan for was the zombie apocalypse.
Eighteen-year-old Arryn Lycaster just graduated high school. With aspirations of becoming a veterinarian, she's ready to take the next step forward in lif...
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"Should I write biggest loser in bright red on the cast?" Arryn teased, twirling the scarlet Sharpie between her fingertips.
"Only if I get to draw a mustache on your face in return." Lincoln snatched the sharpie out of her hand.
"Hey!" she exclaimed. Her attempts to steal the marker back were met with an iron grip.
"How about you write my hero in cursive with hearts all around it." They both tugged on the marker, neither giving up.
"Aren't you adorable?" She rolled her eyes. The cap on the Sharpie popped off, sending the marker out of his hand and into hers. "Hmm let's see... how about this." She brought the marker's tip down on the fabric of his cast. Finishing, she pulled away with a smile.
"Freckles?" He laughed. "I thought you hated that nickname."
"But you love it, my knight in shining armor."
"More like your knight in a hospital gown."
"Heroes come in all sorts of... uniforms I suppose."
"I forgot to tell you, my mom said I'm not the only one here who was bitten by crazy animals. According to the rumors she's heard in the cafeteria, ten more people were bitten in the past two days or so. She went down this morning after she finished watching her soaps. She's been hogging the TV. I swear if I see some awful actress confess their love for someone, and then turn around and plot their death one more time I will flip a bedpan."
Arryn's eyes widened. The article she read the previous night popped into her mind. "Did she hear how any of them were doing?" She drummed her fingers against the sides of her jeans.
"I think three of them went home. Minor bites and stuff. The others are still here to the best of my knowledge. Why do you ask?"
"Don't you think it's odd that so many people are getting bitten by rabid animals?"
"Are you still on that whole zombie dog theory?" Lincoln asked. "Arryn, it's rabies."
"What if it's a different kind of rabies?"
"Arryn, what are you talking about?"
"Nothing. Nevermind, I'm sorry. Austin's words are just sticking with me... that's all."
"Are you sure? You look terrified, Arryn."
She tried to push the worries away, inviting the happy thoughts back in. Lincoln was alive. He was happy. She should be too.
"I promise, I'm okay. Just worried."
A wide grin spread across his face, quickly becoming infectious. "I know something that will cheer you up." He glanced past her shoulder, looking at the doorway. Reaching a hand underneath his pillow, he pulled out a small notebook and a piece of paper.
She cocked her head to the side. "What is that?"
"Hold your horses." He flipped through the pages, stopping on one with his handwriting all over it. He glanced back up at the door again, before turning his eyes on her. "I wrote you something."
