Soulless (A Zombie Erotic Romance) (4 page)

I wanted it, too. Evan ran side by
side with me, holding my hand, while the noisy clatter of his
crossbow rang through the air and gave away our every move. All the
others needed to do was listen for a moment and they'd know where
we went, whether we lost sight of them or not. We needed to go
faster, but I couldn't.

Evan could, I knew. If he let go of my
hand he could flee to safety without worry. Even if he didn't know
about the trees in the courtyard and how the college students here
used to use them to sneak out at night, he should be fine running
to the front gates and leaving the way he came in. If I let him go,
if he ran faster, he'd be free.

He held my hand loosely, running with
me, but I stopped and let his hand go. That was it, I thought. I
expected to see him continue running towards the rear entrance and
out into the open air, but he didn't. He stopped and turned around,
looking at me with a puzzled expression.

"Go," I said. "You can get away if you
leave me here. They won't hurt me. I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will," he said, smiling.
He took my hand in his again and squeezed it tight. "Come on. I
have an idea."

"Didn't you hear me?" I said. Looking
back, I saw the others gaining on us. I stood in place, thinking to
force Evan to leave me, fighting against his gentle
tugs.

"I heard you fine, Sadie. I just don't
like your plan. Why not try going along with mine?"

He looked at me, smiling, not moving
now. We just stood there quietly while the others threatened to
catch up to us. I turned and looked and saw the nearest one only a
few long library table's lengths away. Our chaser stumbled towards
us, persevering despite the difficulty.

Evan tugged my hand lightly once more
and this time I went with him.

"This is insane," I said. "I'm not
fast enough."

"You don't have to be fast," he said.
"Just watch."

We reached the stairs to the second
floor of the library. My legs felt thick and slippery like grape
jelly. It was difficult to climb stairs on the best of days for me,
and after climbing over the walls to get in here and running this
far, now was not one of those better days.

"I can't climb stairs well," I
said.

Evan grinned. "That's the entire
point."

I had no idea what he meant.
Apparently he didn't need me to know, either. Kneeling fast,
slipping one hand behind my knees and holding my back with the
other, he lifted me up and cradled me in his arms.

"Evan!" I shrieked. "This isn't going
to work!"

Evan laughed, climbing the stairs one
at a time, steady yet fast. "Oh, it's not?"

I looked down, staring at the others
following us. At the base of the stairs, barely an arm's length
away from us, they hesitated. One of them leaped forwards and
grabbed at Evan's foot.

I sucked in air and held my breath.
Evan casually walked up the stairs, lifting his foot away from the
outstretched hand right before it would have grabbed the cuff of
his pants. Our assailant's head smacked against the step with a
thud and he slid back down the steps, befuddled. I knew that
wouldn't keep him distracted for more than a moment, but for now it
worked.

What scars would it leave, though?
Evan carried me up the stairs and I looked back sadly, worrying. I
knew they wanted to catch him, to kill him, but it hurt to watch
them. We might not feel pain as fully as anyone else, but it left
its mark nonetheless. If the failed attacker gained a scar, some
bruise, he probably wouldn't care, but it'd leave a
mark.

I thought of them as marks of
inhumanity, of difference. If most people cut themselves, they used
bandages or ointment to help it heal, but in our confused, awkward
states we really couldn't. Besides the fact that it took a lot of
effort, sometimes I never even thought about it. When a regular
person is injured, they can feel the pain and know to take care of
it, but if that happened to me I might not realize the extent of my
injury.

I had a few marks, myself. Evan
carried me up the stairs as surely as he started, but I felt more
awkward now. Shifting in his arms, hiding my legs with the skirt of
my dress and my hands, I hoped he didn't realize what I was doing.
Thankfully he didn't seem to notice with the adrenaline from our
escape coursing through him.

He bounded up the last few steps
effortlessly and then placed me back on the floor. I shook,
unsteady, but he kept a hand on my waist to help me.

"I don't see how this is going to
help," I said.

Already, climbing after us, came the
others. One of them held the railing, slowly plodding his way up
the stairs, while another followed behind him, half crawling and
half pulling himself up. The remaining two stood at the bottom
still, but I had no doubts they'd begin their ascent
soon.

"The windows," Evan said, as if his
comment needed no explanation.

I stared at him, raising one brow.
"Huh?"

"The first floor doesn't actually have
windows," he said. "They're more like glass walls. Right? Up here
you can open the windows, though."

"You can't mean..."

He interrupted me by taking my hand in
his. I didn't know for sure, but I thought he did it on purpose,
catching me off guard while I enjoyed the heated trill of his skin
sending warm shivers through my body.

"Come on," he said.

I went, I followed, but I wanted him
to know I didn't enjoy his demanding nature. "You can't just tell
me what to do," I said. "And you can't just... do... you're
tricking me."

He couldn't just touch me and distract
me and expect me to do everything he wanted was what I meant to
say, except if I said that it not only sounded wrong, but it maybe
told him more about this than I wanted him to know. Did he know?
Maybe he didn't realize it yet. And, honestly, was that the reason
I was following him in the first place? I wasn't entirely
sure.

"I'm not tricking you," he said. "I
want you to come with me."

He wanted me to go with him? I didn't
understand why, though. For what reason? It hurt to think it, but I
assumed he wanted to study me. He wanted to ask me questions and
learn about what made us like this. He wanted to know about the
others and to understand it, so he could figure out a solution.
Some curative desire of his, a medicative need.

He didn't want me to go with him for
any real reason. For all I knew, he didn't even really like me. I
doubted he hated me, but he had ulterior motives, of that I was
positive. Still, was that alright? I liked him, his heat. He seemed
nice and friendly. I did want to stay near him, but I didn't really
know why or for what exact reason.

We walked to the nearest
window and Evan began spinning the handle to levy the window open.
I watched him, curious. He
was
handsome, I decided. I hadn't really bothered to
notice before, but I liked the way he looked. Somewhat rugged and
rough, but not too over the top. He had a bit of stubble on his
cheeks, which looked nice, but I hoped he never grew a full beard.
His clothes were loose, so I couldn't tell for sure, but he must be
strong since he'd carried me up the stairs without too much
effort.

I loved his hair, too. Wavy and loose,
dark black. I wanted to run my fingers through it and touch it. I
could, I decided, be very happy doing that and then grabbing the
back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. If he wanted, if we
were dating, which we weren't, and I was a zombie... he, of course,
wasn't, and I didn't know why I thought these things because
obviously neither of us should care about them. I knew Evan
wouldn't, and I shouldn't, but...

He opened the window as far as it
would go, which wasn't nearly far enough for either of us to slip
out of. The window opened at the top, held in place by retracting
metal bars. Standing, surveying what he had to work with, he
grunted.

"I wish I had a screwdriver," he
said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Then I wouldn't have to kick out the
window."

Evan kicked at the sides of the window
casing. With a creak, the metal bars strained against his
onslaught. A few more kicks on one side of the window and the thin
bar came loose, flapping away from the casing. Moments later the
other side came loose. The window hesitated for a second, falling
outwards slowly. With a loud crash, it smacked against the outside
of the library, glass shattering and cascading to the ground in a
million little pieces.

"All set," he said.

Behind us, finishing the struggle up
the stairs, our first chaser appeared. He must have hesitated at
the top, unsure where we went, but at the obvious sound of the
breaking glass, his head swiveled towards us. He stared at me as I
looked at him, and then he bolted towards us.

Evan leaped out of the window to the
grassy ground below. Springing to a stop a few feet away, he
glanced up at me and smiled.

I couldn't do it, I couldn't go. I
wanted to, I really did, but I couldn't. What if I slipped and
fell? If I hit my head, no matter what I was like now, I'd
definitely fall unconscious. Or even if I didn't hit my head, what
if I didn't jump far enough and scraped my knees? If I landed in
the glass and cut myself, I'd end up with more marks; more signs of
my inhumanity.

Evan wouldn't leave. I briefly
considered not jumping and forcing him to leave. I knew it wouldn't
work, though. The leader of the pack coming after us was currently
in a mad bullrush for the window and he was going to jump out of it
no matter what I did. I imagined Evan standing there, smug, not
even caring.

"Oh, I'm in horrible danger?" I
pictured him thinking. "It doesn't matter. Let me just act a fool
in order to get this zombie girl I just met to come with
me."

Except he wouldn't call me a zombie.
He hadn't said it at all, not once. He hadn't treated me like
anything but a person, and I appreciated that so much. I didn't
feel like a zombie, nor did I want to be a zombie. I did feel odd
sometimes, out of place, confused and disoriented and unsure, but
that was it.

I jumped.

I fell into Evan's arms. He stepped
forward to catch me and we toppled to the ground, but no more. I
didn't hit my head, didn't scrape my knees. The glass wasn't
anywhere near us and so I didn't need to worry about that, either.
We lay in the grass, huddled together, breathing
quickly.

Our first follower stumbled out of the
broken window and collapsed onto the ground next to us. I screamed,
startled, staring at him.

He'd landed on his feet, but hadn't
had the sense to buckle his knees to soften his fall. Instead, he
landed hard and fell forward, face first into the ground. I never
knew what happened after that because Evan lifted me off the ground
and to my feet, turning me away from the fallen man.

"This way," I said, pointing to the
easily climbable tree and the student's secret sneak-out route.
"There's a hidden way out."

Evan nodded and we ran for it. He ran
slowly now, though, oddly. I looked over at him and realized his
crossbow must have jarred his shoulder when he caught
me.

"Your hurt," I said.

He brushed it off. "I'm fine. Where is
it?"

I showed him to the nearby spot with
the tree. There was no bench on this side to get started, but the
wall wasn't too high and the tree branches grew lower than the ones
on the other side. Evan nodded once we arrived and went straight to
business.

Removing the quiver and crossbow from
his back, he jumped up and slipped them onto the top of the stone
wall. Getting to his knees next to the wall, he looped his fingers
together and looked at me pointedly.

"I'll help you up. It'll be faster
this way. Just step onto my hands and use the wall to brace
yourself. I'll lift you up as high as I can. Can you jump to the
other side fine if I get you to the top? If not, I can climb up
after you and help you down."

"I can do it," I said. Breathing in
deep, I stared at him kneeling on the ground. "I don't know if this
is a good idea, though."

"It's not a good idea," he said with a
grin. "It's a great idea! I promise I won't drop you."

I rolled my eyes at him and sighed.
Stepping into his hand with one foot, I reached out and braced
myself against the wall with my arms. Carefully, he lifted me up.
He slipped when he went to stand and cursed under his
breath.

His shoulder. I'd completely
forgotten. I could climb the tree--I'd done it before. We didn't
need to do it this way and I should've realized we shouldn't,
too.

"I can climb on my own," I said.
"You're hurt, Evan."

He ignored me, grimacing, and then
with a grunt he pushed through the pain in his arm and stood up. I
wobbled at first, but kept myself balanced against the wall.
Worried, frowning, I watched him but he refused to accept my
anxiety.

He lifted me higher. I reached out and
grabbed the other side of the wall, then pulled one leg over the
top while holding on. Lifting my other leg off his hands, I spun up
and onto the top of the wall.