Soulless (A Zombie Erotic Romance) (3 page)

He helped me off of him and stood at
my side, smiling at me. Reaching out his hand, he wanted to help me
up. I stared at him, still feeling his warmth, curious and
contented.

Like them, all I needed to do was grab
his hand. He looked strong, but if I caught him off guard while he
helped me up I could squeeze his hand tight in mine and pull him
back to the ground. His throat seemed to shine like some bright
beacon. If I scratched, bit, killed...

I took his offered hand and held onto
it tight and let him help me up off the ground. He smiled at me
more and moved in close.

"Are you alright?" he
asked.

I squeezed his hand and pulled him
towards me. He came readily, watching me with interest. Lifting his
hand up, I placed it on the side of my cheek.

Fire!

My cheek melted under his touch,
feeling so wonderful and warm. I held his hand against my cheek and
smiled at him.

"Thank you," I said. "You're so
kind."

My eyes started to tear up and I knew
I couldn't help myself anymore. Why was I crying? So dumb and
silly, but I didn't think I could stop myself if I tried. He
grinned and wiped the tears away from my eyes with his other hand.
Warm, like the heat from a sauna, a few stray tears slipped down my
cheeks, but he wiped those away, too.

"You're--" he said, pausing, brow
furrowed. "Different."

"I'm a zombie," I said, feeling like
we should get that out of the way.

"I didn't want to say that because it
sounds prejudiced," he said with a chuckle. "I can call you that if
you want, but maybe... do you have a name?"

"Sadie," I whispered. I hadn't used my
name in so long, hadn't heard anyone call me that in months, but I
liked it. I loved my name and wanted him to say it all of a
sudden.

He did. My name slipped out of his
lips like a liturgy during Sunday mass. "Sadie," he said, grinning.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Evan."

I wasn't crying anymore, merely
staring at him with rapt fascination. The hand he'd used to wipe
away my tears reached out. I accepted it, shook it, and held it
tight, not wanting to let go. I did, though, I let him go. Bright
tingles of warmth tickled through my fingertips and fingers,
centered in my palm, so delightful.

"Do you want to come sit with me?" he
asked.

I nodded, having no idea what to say
to him.

"Would you mind, um...?"

I still held his other hand against my
face, reveling in his warmth. He gently moved his fingertips,
caressing my cheek.

"Oh," I said. "Oh, I'm sorry."
Reluctantly, I let him go.

He took my hand, though; he didn’t let
me go completely. I held his hand as he led me towards his spot in
the library. At that moment, I thought I would have followed him
anywhere if only he kept holding me. The glimmering afterglow of
his hand against my cheek felt magnificent, and the constant, cozy
warmth of his hand holding mine was pure bliss.

We sat. He helped me into a chair and
then he sat in the one next to me.

"You're cold," he said.

I frowned. "I know. I don't mean to
be. I hope it's alright."

"No, no." He shook his head. "I
just... I don't know why I said that. Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" I asked. I felt
lightheaded and happy, despite the fact he wasn't touching me
anymore. His lingering warmth kept me feeling nice, like I'd just
eaten half a can of molten hot soup and settled into my bed back
home with my book.

"Well, I'm warm and you're cold. Was
my hand too hot? You looked--"

"No!" I said in a panic. "No, no. Oh
God, no. You... um..."

He smiled and scooted his chair closer
to me, right next to mine. "What?" he asked. "You can say it. It's
alright."

He touched me again. Both his hands
reached for one of mine and he held my hand loosely in his own. I
relished it and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. My body
felt near orgasmic, alive, ecstatic. This was so remarkable and new
to me and...

He let go of my hand. "Are you
alright?" he asked, startled. He grabbed his medical book, looked
at it, shook his head, and slid it away as he stood up. "Are you in
shock? I can help you. I used to be an EMT. I don't have any
medical equipment here, but hold on, Sadie. Everything's going to
be alright. Just..."

I stared at him, blinking, then I
laughed.

He looked at me with the funniest
expression of confusion I thought I'd ever seen.
"Sadie?"

"Ohhh." I grabbed his hand
and pulled him back into his chair. "No. I'm fine. You're just
so
warm.
"

"Oh," he said.

"It feels nice," I said. "I like it."
For good measure, I added, "I'm not trying to come on to you. I'm
sorry if it sounds that way."

"Oh," he said. "No, that's fine? Huh.
So you like the warmth?"

"Yes." I nodded. "A lot."

"Why are you so cold?" he asked. "Is
it because...?"

Because I was a zombie. That's what he
wanted to ask, I could tell, but I appreciated him being nice about
it. "Yes," I said. "I think so. We're all like this. Me and the
others."

The others, I thought. I was one of
them and Evan wasn't. He was someone else far apart from what I was
or what they were. I didn't know if I really belonged here talking
with him. I didn't know if it would cause issues with him, either.
Did he have someone waiting somewhere? Would they know he'd talked
with me? If I stayed near him, would he turn into a zombie
too?

"I want to help," he said all of a
sudden, snapping me away from my depressing thoughts.

"What do you mean?" I
asked.

"There's something wrong. I don't know
what it is, and I don't know if anyone knows, but there's something
wrong with..."

He paused. I finished his sentence for
him. "With me."

"No!" Evan stared at me hard. I could
see the fire in his eyes like the warmth in his hands, steady and
fierce. He touched me, placed his hand on my cheek again. "Ugh. I'm
not good at this. I don't know how to say it. There's nothing wrong
with you or anyone, Sadie. But... what's happened? Yes. What's
happened isn't your fault, or anyone's fault, really. I want to fix
it. I don't know how, or if I can, but I want to try."

I stared at him, more attentive than
I'd felt in months. The look in his eyes, the way he kept his hand
pressed against my cheek, his steady demeanor and his refusal to
back down; it captivated me. Pulsing, matching the rhythm of his
heartbeat, waves of incandescent heat spread from his hand to me. I
held my hands against the back of his, worrying he might let go of
my cheek if I didn't.

"I would like to think you can," I
said. "I don't know how you would, though. I'm not sure it's
possible."

Evan nodded. "I don't know,
either. I've been studying, though. See?" He grabbed his book with
his free hand and showed it to me:
Robbins
Pathologic Basis for Disease
. "Not that,
um, you have a disease or anything. I found the medical student
curriculum in one of the offices here and this book was on the
required reading list."

"Are you a doctor?" I
asked.

"No. Not quite. I'm an EMT. Or..." He
paused and looked at me with a strained look for a moment. Not
quite at me, though, but past me. Through me. "I was an EMT. I'm
not sure there's really such a thing anymore, though. I wanted to
go to medical school and become a doctor. Or maybe a PA. I didn't
have a chance before everything kind of went crazy. That doesn't
mean I can't still do it, though. It won't be the same,
but..."

"You're brave," I said. "It doesn't
matter if you can't technically do it. I think you're very brave
for wanting to do it anyways."

He smiled. "Thanks."

I felt shy, unsure if I should do
this, but I decided to go for it. Leaning towards him, I kissed his
cheek.

I nearly fell out of my chair,
paralyzed by the feeling of his warmth against my lips. My body
froze, tightened, and I couldn't move away. Nor did I want to move
away. The heat, the pleasure, from something so simple as a kiss on
the cheek exploded inside me like a fiery blaze.

"Sadie?" Evan said; but I was
somewhere far away and couldn't hear him. "Sadie! Sadie, are you
alright?"

He pulled me away and held my
shoulders, looking hard at me. With my lips gone from his cheek, I
felt some semblance of regularity returning. I'd felt imbalanced
while kissing him, knocked out of equilibrium, like gravity had
ceased to exist and I was falling forever.

"I don't think I should kiss you," I
said, laughing, giddy.

"Oh?" He smirked. "Why
not?"

"That was very strong. I felt heat--a
lot of heat--and it felt nice but I couldn't think straight for a
second. I've never felt that way before."

"That's curious," he said. "I
wonder... what if I kiss you?"

I didn't know. I didn't know but I
wanted to know. I was no stranger to kissing, but I hadn't ever
kissed someone like that before. Who knew that a casual, thankful
kiss on the cheek could feel so passionate? That was the only word
I could think to describe it, like the fire of pure arousal licking
at my lips.

"Sorry," Evan said. "I didn't mean
that in a flirtatious way. I was just thinking out loud.
Hypothesizing, if you will. I do that a lot now. Trial and error,
right? It's a good way to educate yourself as long as you're
careful."

"Oh," I said. I wanted him to kiss me
now, though. Was he going to?

He gazed at me, into me. Our eyes met.
I hoped he saw something nice in my eyes, something he liked. I
definitely liked his eyes. They were a sharp, piercing blue and
reminded me of something I'd seen recently, but I couldn't quite
remember what.

Bang! Bang! Slam!

Jumping up, startled, I looked towards
the front of the library where the noise came from. Evan stood with
me, taking a place right next to me.

Staring at us through the library's
front windows was a small group of the others. They slammed on the
windows, trying to crack them open and break in. If they kept it
up, they probably would, too.

"They shouldn't be in here," I said.
"How did they get in? There's a chain on the front
gates."

Evan sighed. "I broke the lock to get
in here. I thought if I left the chain in place no one would
notice. I guess that didn't work out."

"I know you want to help them," I
said. Forcing myself to focus through the intense warmth, I placed
my hands on Evan's face and made him look at me. "You need to run,
though. They want to kill you."

"I know," he said. "It's
alright."

Dashing a few steps away, leaving me
cold and alone, Evan ducked under the library table and grabbed
something from beneath it. When he returned and stood up, he held a
crossbow and an arrow quiver full of bolts in his hands.

My mind reeled and I stared at him,
conflicted. "Evan, you can't. Please, don't kill them. You need to
run to safety."

He flashed me a grin while strapping
the quiver and crossbow to his back. "No one's going to get hurt,"
he said. Without warning, he swooped forward and took my hand in
his. "Let's go."

"What do you mean let's go?" I
asked.

I asked him this, but I was already
going with him. Evan ran through the library towards the back
entrance with me in tow, squeezing my hand for good measure. My
legs felt slow and unsteady, but he helped me whenever I took a bad
step and nearly slipped. I followed him like a ship guided by a
lighthouse, the ever-present heat of his fingers offering me a
breadcrumb trail out of this screwed up fairytale
forest.

Peeking over my shoulder, I saw the
others chasing us. One of them stood at the window still, slapping
on it with his bare hands, but the remaining four must have found
the front entryway into the library. They hobbled past the
turnstile, getting stuck in its slim path, but not for long. One
made it through, then another, the third and fourth. None of them
waited for each other, though.

They ran towards us in a shambling,
awkward gait. The look of confusion on their faces contrasted with
the decisive look in their eyes. They didn't want me--I was nothing
but competition to them--but Evan's blazing heat was like the
promise of a goldrush in their minds.

I understood now; I did. I resisted
the urge to partake in the barbaric, seemingly-mindless onslaught
of the others, though, no matter how many times I saw it or heard
it nearby. Confused and lost, I wanted to retain whatever part of
me I could. I wanted to care and have concern no matter how broken
and defeated I was.

Others wanted to feel alive. The touch
of warm skin igniting life inside of them, bringing them some
semblance of normalness back to their cool, clumsy bodies. Strong
thoughts and feelings, sensations and emotions, they wanted all of
it.