Sorrow's Gift

Chapter Two: Parrish

Rotters flooded the streets of D.C.

Parrish gripped a canvas loop hanging from the ceiling, her body jerking with each bump as the Humvee plowed over the corpses of the dead.

At first, no one spoke. They were all exhausted. Confused. And scared as hell.

What were those things back there?

Parrish had barely gotten used to the idea that the dead were walking around trying to eat the living. Now she was supposed to somehow wrap her head around the idea of super-zombies with magical powers and enormous strength?

It was too much.

Surviving the endless attacks of the regular rotters was hard enough when they were in big groups, but these super zombies? They were impossible. And worse, those things had come straight for them. It was almost like they'd been hunting them. If Crash hadn't shown up when he did, what would have happened?

Parrish closed her eyes and leaned her head against her arm. She didn't want to think about that. She wanted to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow to find this was all some terrible nightmare.

The worst part was that it still wasn't over yet. They still weren't safe.

The truck swerved violently to one side and Parrish slammed into Noah. He reached his hands out to steady her, and the warmth of his fingers brushed across the bare skin at her waist.

Parrish drew in a sharp breath and turned to look at him. A streak of blood had dried across his forehead and his hair was covered in dirt and ash, but his eyes were as blue as ever, clear and beautiful. Her heart raced a little faster.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded and looked away, gripping the loop tighter above her head. She didn't want him to see her fear. Or her attraction. She scooted back over on the bench seat and shrugged out of his grasp.

She needed to focus on survival. Staying alive so she could get to her sister in New York was all that mattered now. The last thing she needed was to be daydreaming about some guy.

Still, her eyes traveled back to his.

The problem was he wasn't just some guy. This was Noah. She'd stayed up late thinking of him so many nights she'd lost count. He was the one she'd always looked for in a crowd. The one guy she'd ever wanted to kiss.

But that was before the end of the world.

He was staring at her, one hand gripping the canvas loop next to hers, and the other resting on the bench between them like a dare.

"What were those new zombies? Where did they come from?" he asked, barely loud enough for her to hear over the roar of the Humvee's engine and the groans of the undead clawing at the truck.

"I don't know," she said. She scooted toward the guy in the driver's seat. "Hey, Crash. You ever seen anything like those rotters back there? The ones with glowing eyes?"

Even though he was only a few feet away, she had to shout to be heard.

Crash shook his head. Their eyes met through the rear-view mirror for an instant. "No way, man. What the hell were they?"

"I was hoping you would know," she yelled back. "We've never seen anything like it. If you hadn't gotten there in time, I don't think we would have made it."

Across from her, Karmen pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her head between them.

The new girl sat next to Karmen, her eyes wide and her hands cradled in her lap. Parrish still didn't even know the girl's name. They'd all risked their lives to rescue her, even though they had no idea who she was. How in the world had Crash even known she was up there? A dream, he'd said. She was the fifth. The one who was supposed to complete their group somehow. But what did that even mean?

There were too many questions and not enough answers.

Parrish just wanted to find a safe place where they could try to make sense of this.

"How much farther?" she shouted.

Crash pointed to something up ahead. "We're almost there," he said, slowing down to a stop. "But getting in is going to be a bitch."

There was only one small window in the back of the truck, so Parrish leaned forward to look through the windshield. Hundreds of rotters swarmed the vehicle, their bloodied hands grasping at metal, desperate to get inside. Their jaws snapped like gators, hungry for the taste of flesh.

Parrish searched their eyes, looking for any sign of a red glow like the ones they'd fought in the office building earlier.

Anger surged through her as she studied the monsters on the street. Some of them wore suits, as if they'd gotten dressed for work and died somewhere along the way. Some wore hospital gowns or pajamas. Jeans and t-shirts. But their clothes were the only things normal about them anymore. It was the only thing that proved they had been people once, just like her. Just like her mother.

But there was nothing human about them anymore. Their milky eyes were wide and wild, desperate with hunger. Most of them were already rotting, their skin sagging and gray. Some had been partially eaten, their bones exposed and their clothes covered in dried blood.

As her eyes scanned the group of them, rage pounded in her head.

It wasn't fair.

It didn't make any sense.

How had this happened?

She released her grip on the canvas loop and leaned forward. "Where exactly do we need to go?" she asked.

Crash pointed to a gated garage about fifty feet away on the left. "That's my apartment building," he said. "I have the inside secured, but we have to find a way to hold these things off long enough to get the door open and drive inside without letting too many in with us."

She nodded and tried to estimate just how many were out there.

"Give me ten minutes," she said.

Crash turned around in his seat, one eyebrow raised and a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He was a pretty good-looking guy, she realized for the first time. Asian with long, messy black hair and dark eyes. He looked a few years older than the rest of them.

"What exactly do you have in mind?" he asked.

Parrish glanced at the crowd of rotters standing between them and the gate. She reached back and closed her fingers around the hilt of her katana, carefully pulling the sword out of her bag.

"I'm going to kill them all."