3 | We Who Survive the Apocalypse | ✅

Chapter 9 - Found

"Well shave my head and call me Britney Spears, it is Pirate!" Izzy shakes her head in disbelief as the large dog approaches.

"I'll be damned," Seth murmurs, standing up from behind the hood of the car.

I stand also, looking at Pirate in utter surprise and complete joy. "And where there's Pirate..."

"There's Rogan," he says, "and where there's Rogan..."

"There's Doyle," I whisper, my feet taking flight beneath me and carrying me toward Pirate, whose great tail wags in greeting.

Seth is right on my heels, Izzy grumbling as she follows along behind him, but before I can reach Pirate, he turns and begins running down the street in the opposite direction of where we came from.

He must want us to follow him. I take off running after him, Seth in close pursuit, and of course Izzy starts complaining about it.

Pirate leads us to an alley near the end of the street, where he disappears around the side of a building. I slow to a walk, cautiously peering into the shadowed passage.

I see Pirate's tail duck behind the building, and I follow, Seth beside me, Izzy behind us, grumbling about how silly we are to be chasing a dog.

"Shut up for a minute, will you?" Seth hisses at her, resulting in a good firm smack to the back of his head.

I round the corner, looking upon dumpsters, trash, and a couple of dead things, and Pirate is sitting on top of a crushed cardboard box.

And then...time slows down. My heartbeat thuds in my ears, and I can't hear anything more than a muffled cry from Seth as he rushes forward and tackles him in a massive bear hug.

Doyle stumbles backward when Seth crashes into him. I hear their voices, but I don't comprehend what they're saying.

Doyle. He is there, right there, in front of me, alive and real. Alive. Alive. From beneath a threadbare gray beanie his fiery red hair escapes, longer and more tangled than before, hanging well past his shoulders. He still wears that plaid shirt of his, and those worn out jeans, and those sneakers that he's got held together with tape.

"...knew you were too stubborn to die," Izzy's voice cuts through the static in my ears as she walks past me.

"Yeah, right," Seth says, finally releasing Doyle.

"I did, too!" Izzy protests.

Seth just shakes his head. "So where's Rogan?"

Doyle is looking past the two of them, straight at me, our eyes locking. "He's...around," he mumbles, stepping between them and heading toward me.

I suddenly remember to breathe, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths as I see his face. It bears a new scar, just above his right eyebrow, and seems thinner, paler, more tired, but his eyes shine out, a brilliant explosion of hazel.

He stops just feet away from me, studying me, looking as if he can't believe I'm really there. He slowly pulls the hat off his head, more hair falling into his face.

"Wynne, I...." He trails off, his eyes searching mine, his expression strained. And I still can't move, can't speak, can hardly breathe.

"Aw, damn it," he mutters before crossing the space between us, cupping my face in his hands and pressing his lips to mine.

I don't care that they're cracked with the cold, I don't care if Seth and Izzy are watching. I kiss him back, gently, my hands moving to grab the front of his shirt, to pull him closer so that there is no space at all between us.