They slid out of the darkness like wraiths, a pale, monstrous swarm, cresting the rise at the top of the driveway. Even huddled behind a window, peering through the slats in the boards, I could see their faces, their dead white eyes and slack jaws bristling with fangs. Most of them still wore the clothes they had died in, torn and filthy now, some with darker, more ominous stains spattered across the fabric.
“Mother of God,” one of the men swore beside me. Shuddering, I drew away from the window and turned to where Samson was giving orders a few feet away, one hand planted against the table to keep himself upright.
“Douse all the lights,” he hissed at a nephew, who scrambled to obey him. “Make sure everyone has a weapon, but, for the love of God, don’t fire unless they’re coming in through the walls! Let’s keep our heads, people!”
“Samson,” I said, stepping between him and Ben. “You need to let me examine you. If you’ve been bitten—”
“I’m fine.” Samson smacked my hand away. “Get downstairs with the rest of the womenfolk, girl. You’ll just be in our way up here.”
I bristled, but Ben put a hand to the small of my back. “She can help,” he said quietly. “She knows how to shoot, and if anyone gets hurt she can patch them up quicker than anyone here. She stays.”
Samson glared at us both, then snorted. “I don’t have time for this. Fine, give the woman a gun if she wants, and tell her to stay back from the windows. Everyone else, shut up!” His voice hissed through the room, quieting the mutters, the terrified whispers that we were all going to die. Silence fell, and Samson glowered at the small group of frightened humans. “We all knew this was coming. You all had the choice to leave, but you stayed. We are not going to lose our heads and make stupid mistakes. The survival of this family depends on us, and we will make our stand here.”
A soft, drawn-out creak echoed from outside, as the first of the rabids eased onto the porch.
Everyone froze or silently ducked behind cover, as the pale, hissing swarm crowded the front door. Ben and I peeked around the kitchen doorway, seeing them through the slats over the windows, watching as they poked their claws between the wood, testing it. No one moved, not even when one of the rabids pressed its face to the wall and peered in with a bulging white eye, scanning the room. With a hiss, it pulled back and shuffled off, and the mob on the front porch slowly cleared out. We could still hear them, though, stalking the perimeter of the house, searching for a way in. But, for now at least, they hadn’t seen us. I hoped they couldn’t smell us, though it was obvious they knew something was inside. Maybe they had no sense of smell if they were already dead? I didn’t know, and right now, I couldn’t worry about it. Samson was hurt, and stubborn ass or no, he needed help.
“Ben,” I whispered when everything was still again. “I have to check your father. He needs medical attention, whether he likes it or not. You saw what happened...with Nathan.”
He nodded stiffly. “I know.” For a moment, that ugly pain was there again, darkening his eyes. Then he shook it off, and an iron determination took its place. “What do you need me to do?”
“See if you can get him into the bathroom. There are no windows there, and I’ll need a light to see what I’m doing.” I peeked into the front room again, checking for rabid silhouettes in the windows. “I’ll need to go to our room and get my medical supplies. See if you can convince the stubborn fool to let me take care of him before—”
A thud echoed through the darkness, and everyone jumped, raising their weapons. Ben and I rushed into the room to find Samson collapsed under the table, moaning softly. The rest of the men gaped at his body and at each other, looking lost.
Ben stepped forward, smacking one of the men on the shoulder as he passed. “Dale, help me get him up. The rest of you, go back to your posts. The rabids are still out there. Kylie...” He glanced back at me, and I nodded.
“I’ll get my bag.”
Minutes later, the three of us huddled on the bathroom floor, with Samson slumped against the tub and Ben shining a flashlight over my shoulder. The older man had regained consciousness, but seemed oddly complacent as I cut off his shirt, only commenting once that a knife would work better. Ignoring him, I gingerly peeled back the fabric, revealing a dark mass of blood and mangled flesh below his ribs. Ben drew in a sharp breath.
“Dad, what the hell? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Samson Archer sighed. “Because I didn’t need the lot of you worrying over me when we had fucking zombies coming up the driveway.”
“What happened?” I asked, liberally soaking a towel in disinfectant before pressing it to the wound. Samson hissed through his teeth, clenching his jaw.
“One of the bastards grabbed Shane. He started screaming, and I went back to help him. Then another one of ’em came right out of the ground, right under my feet. It latched on, and by the time I got it off, they’d torn Shane to pieces.”
“Dammit,” Ben growled behind me. “Kylie, can you tell what kind of wound it is? Is he...” He trailed off, and Samson narrowed his eyes.
“Am I what?”
“I don’t know,” I said, moving Ben’s arm to hold the light at a better angle. The ragged flesh and blood made it difficult to determine what kind of damage it was. “Samson, do you remember if the rabid bit you?” I wasn’t entirely certain how the virus spread, if it was passed on through the saliva or blood or something else. But Nathan had been bitten, and everything at the clinic started with that, so I wasn’t taking any chances. “Did it bite you?” I asked again, firmer this time. “Or did it just grab you with its claws?”
“Shit, woman, I don’t know. I was just trying to get the bastard off of me. I didn’t ask what it was doing.”
I pulled my last syringe of painkiller from my bag. I’d found it in my coat pocket a few days ago when I was gathering our clothes to wash. “This is morphine,” I told Samson, holding it up. “It will help with the pain. It will also put you to sleep, so don’t be alarmed if you get drowsy or light-headed.”
“Don’t want to sleep,” Samson growled, waving me off. “Can’t sleep now. Who will look after everyone with those things out there?”
“I will,” Ben said quietly.
Samson’s lip curled. He glanced at Ben and took a breath to scoff, but stopped when Ben didn’t look away. Father and son gazed at each other for a silent moment, and I didn’t know what passed between them, but I took advantage of the moment to slip the needle into Samson’s arm, injecting him with the painkiller. He jerked, glaring at me, then sighed.
“Stubborn, intractable woman,” he muttered, though I thought I caught the faintest hint of reluctant respect below the surface. He snorted. “Know what’s best for everyone, do you? Just like this insufferable idiot. You two are definitely made for each other.”
I didn’t answer, not wanting to snap at an injured patient, though I could feel Ben’s anger behind me. Tossing the needle away, I was reaching for the gauze when Samson’s bony fingers fastened on my arm.
Startled, I looked back to find him leaning in, staring at me intently. “Take care of him,” he rasped in a voice almost too soft to be heard. “If I don’t make it, watch out for him. Don’t let him do anything stupid. You’re the only one he listens to now.”
He slumped against the tub, all the fight going out of him. I sat there a moment, shocked, pondering his words. Anger flickered. Samson had no right to demand I look out for his son, not when he’d done such a dismal job of it himself. And I didn’t need his orders. I didn’t need anyone telling me to take care of Ben. Maybe Samson had to be reminded that you took care of the ones you cared for, even if they’d hurt you in the past, but I already knew that. I was here because I cared for Ben. I was here because...
The reason hit me like a load of bricks, and I nearly dropped the bandages. Because...I loved him. Even after such a short time. I loved his strength, his loyalty, his fierce protectiveness when the need arose. The way he looked at me as if I was the most precious thing in the world, the way his hands slid gently across my skin. Even his faults, the guilt and inner torment, the darkness that he retreated into sometimes. I loved all of that. I couldn’t live without him.
I was in love with Ben Archer.
I finished bandaging the wound, my body and hands acting on autopilot, but my mind far away. Then, still feeling as if I’d been blindsided, I helped Ben move Samson into our room and laid him out on the bed.
Samson’s eyes were closed, and he seemed dead to the world, which was a small kindness considering the pain he must’ve been in. However, when we drew back, he stirred and raised his head, muttering something insensible. Ben glanced at me, then knelt beside his father and bent close, as Samson whispered something only they could hear. Ben gave a solemn nod, and Samson’s head fell back onto the pillow. He finally drifted into unconsciousness.
“I’ll stay with him,” I whispered as Ben stood, looking grave. “You go out there and let everyone know what’s going on.”
He nodded gratefully and paused as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it. Spinning around, he grabbed a long wooden box from the top shelf, set it down, and carefully opened the top.
A revolver lay there, glimmering dully in the shadows. For a second, Ben stared at the gun, a tortured expression briefly crossing his face. But then he yanked the weapon from the case and turned to me.
“Here,” he said, flipping it over and holding it out to me, handle first. “Just in case.”
“Ben...”
“Take it, Kylie.” Ben’s eyes pleaded with me. “In case I’m not here and he... Just take it. Please.”
Gingerly, I reached out and took the gun.
“Ben?” I called as he went through the door. He turned, raising his eyebrows, and I bit my lip. Just tell him, Kylie. You might not get another chance. Tell him you want to stay here. That you want to be part of this family.
That you’ve fallen in love with him.
But that question still lingered, plaguing me with indecision and doubt. Was Ben’s offer based on love, or the need to continue his family line? Did he genuinely want me, or was this a joining of convenience? Ben had admitted that he needed me, and that he didn’t want me to leave. He hadn’t said anything about love.
I forced a smile. “Tell one of the boys to boil some water for me? I might need to do some stitching later.”
He gave me a puzzled look but nodded and vanished silently into the hall.
* * *
It was a long night.
The monsters never gave up. All through the night and into the early-morning hours we heard them, circling the house, clawing at the windows and scratching at the walls. Sometime after midnight, we heard a wild screeching outside and realized that the rabids had discovered the livestock in the barn. The swarm had surrounded the building, tearing at the walls, and we heard the frantic bleats of the goats within. But there was nothing we could do except hope that our fortifications and the reinforced doors would be strong enough to keep the rabids from slaughtering everything.
Samson continued to worsen. His skin grew hot, and the wound turned puffy and red, fluid beginning to seep through the bandages. I kept close watch on his eyes and mouth, mentally preparing myself to see bloody flecks on his lips or worse, red tears streaming from his eyelids. Apart from the shuffle of the rabids outside and the occasional cough or shift from men in the living room, the house was eerily silent. Ben was a ghost, gliding from room to room, checking on everyone and calming nerves. “We’re almost through this,” I heard him murmur to a relative once. “They’ll go away when the sun comes up. We just have to survive till then.”
And then what? I thought. What happens tomorrow night, and the night after that?
Ben came silently into the room, startling me. I looked up from my chair as he handed me a mug that steamed and smelled heavenly of coffee.
“Thought you could use this.”
“Lifesaver, Ben.” I took the offered mug and sipped deeply, welcoming the hot jolt of caffeine. Ben set his ever-present shotgun aside and perched on the ottoman, regarding me with tired eyes.
“How’s Dad?”
“Hasn’t changed.” The same answer I’d given him the past three times he’d come by. I gazed at his haggard, tousled face and had the very strong urge to kiss it. I restrained myself and sipped my coffee. “How’s everyone else?”
“Tired.” Ben rubbed his forehead. “At least, everyone up here is exhausted. Rachel and some of the others downstairs actually managed to get some sleep. Kylie, you never answered my question last night.”
I choked on coffee, sputtering and spilling it down my chin. Setting the cup down, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at Ben’s serious expression. “Is...is this the best time to discuss that?” I whispered.
He closed his eyes briefly, as if pained. “When will I get another chance?” he murmured, scooting closer. “We’re surrounded by death, afraid to even move, and they’re not going to go away. This...” He let out a heavy sigh. “This will be my life, every night. Fighting these things, trying to keep my family alive. And I realize it’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t feel like you have to stay because of me. If the world hadn’t gone crazy, I wouldn’t ask anyone to go through this, especially you.”
A scream echoed from outside, and on the bed, Samson groaned. Ben shot him a worried, hopeful glance, but he fell silent and didn’t stir again.
“Kylie, I need you here,” Ben continued in a low, intense voice. “You’re the most important thing in my life now. As much as any member of my family, maybe more. But...I won’t ask you to stay if you aren’t certain you want to. It’s your choice.”
“Why do you want me to stay?” I whispered.
Ben blinked. “I...thought it was obvious.”
I shook my head. “You told me you wanted to settle down, maybe even start a family. That sounds an awful lot like a proposal, Ben. But, you haven’t said...how you feel about me. And I need to know, before I decide anything. I need to know if this is some partnership of convenience, or if you want me to stay because...”
Because you love me as much as I love you.
“Kylie.” Ben sighed, running his hands through his hair. He looked embarrassed, uncomfortable, and my heart sank. “We’ve only known each other a couple weeks,” he stammered, as my heart plummeted to my toes. “And after the whole Nathan situation, I was certain you hated me. I thought if I said anything, it would be too soon. That I would come across as some creepy, desperate guy and it would scare you off. And I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving, so I stayed quiet.”
My heart roused a little, a tiny flare of hope lifting it up. “What are you trying to say?”
Ben swallowed. “I wanted to wait a little while. I thought that if we came here, and I convinced you to stay, I would have all the time in the world to tell you how I felt.” He glanced toward the curtained window, and his face darkened. “But we don’t have much time anymore, and it’s selfish of me to ask you to stay here, just because I—”
He stopped. My stomach was in knots, my heart racing, hanging on for those next few words. I wanted to hear them. I needed to hear them. “Because you...?”
Ben slumped, letting out a long breath. Leaning forward, he eased off the ottoman but didn’t stand, dropping to his knees in front of me. His calloused hands took mine and trapped them in gentle fingers, while his gorgeous, soulful dark eyes rose to meet my gaze.
“Because I love you,” he whispered, and my flattened heart swelled nearly to bursting. “I am completely and irreversibly in love with you, ever since that first night in your clinic when you told me you had survived. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, and I can say with complete sincerity that I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t met you. You pulled me out of the darkness, and I will be forever grateful for that. I honestly don’t know what I’ll do if you leave.” He squeezed my hands, his gaze never wavering from mine. “I love you, Kylie,” he murmured. “Stay with me. Till the end of the world.”
My eyes watered. Sliding forward, I wrapped my arms around his head and kissed him fiercely, feeling his arms yank me close. I buried my fingers in his hair and pressed myself against him, and for a moment everything—the rabids, Samson, the circle of death surrounding us on all sides—all melted away, and the only thing that mattered was the man in my arms. Let the world fall; I had my sanctuary right here. My own pocket of Eden.
“Ben?”
A soft, hesitant voice broke us apart, and we turned to see Rachel standing in the doorway, a flickering candle in hand, staring at us. But she wasn’t smirking or frowning; her eyes were wide and teary, and her free hand wrung the front of her shirt in quick, nervous gestures.
“Rachel, honey.” Ben let me go and crossed the room, kneeling down to face her. “You’re supposed to be downstairs with Mom and Aunt Sarah and the rest of them,” he said, putting himself, I noticed, between her and Samson’s body on the bed. “You need to go back to the basement, now.”
“I can’t.” The child sniffled, biting her lip. “I can’t find Davy.”
“Davy? Your goat?”
A nod. “I think he slipped out when I came upstairs to use the bathroom.”
Ben frowned. “Go back to Mom,” he told her, and the girl’s lip trembled. He smoothed her hair and gently tugged on an end. “I’ll find him and bring him back, okay?”
She sniffed and nodded. Turning, she padded down the hall, and we listened until the creak of the basement door echoed to us in the silence. Ben stood with a grimace.
“Care to go goat hunting with me?”
A soft clink came from the kitchen before I could answer. Ben and I shared a glance and hurried quietly into the living room.
Sunrise wasn’t far off. Instead of complete darkness, the slats over the windows let in a faint gray light, and the air held the stillness of the coming dawn. We could still hear the rabids, though, constantly shuffling around outside, sometimes passing in front of the windows, making the porch squeak. Ben had rotated the guard duty throughout the night, and the last watch huddled in the shadows and behind doorways, guns in their laps or beside them on the ground. It was lighter outside, the blackness losing ground to a muffled gray. We were almost in the clear, but we still had to be very, very careful.
I suddenly saw the kid, a glimmer of white in the shadows, trot out of the kitchen and into the front room. My heart stood still. Ben hurried forward, but before he could do anything, the frightened kid walked past one of the men, who instinctively reached out and grabbed it. The goat let out a startled bleat—and a rabid’s face slammed into the window, mad white eyes peering in. It screamed, sinking its claws into the wooden slats, shaking violently, and more bodies flung themselves onto the porch. Blows rattled the doors and windows, filling the house with noise.
“Everyone, stay calm!” Ben ordered as the men jumped to their feet, grabbing their weapons. “Get down to the lower levels and block the doors. Use the staircase and the hall as a choke point if they get through.” A slat ripped free of the frame, and a rabid’s face became fully visible through the space, blank and terrifying. It screeched, and Ben’s shotgun barked loudly, the flare from the muzzle searingly bright in the dark room. The rabid’s head exploded in a cloud of blood, and it fell back, only to have several others take its place. More slats began to tear loose, and Ben turned on the men. “Move! Now!”
As they scrambled away, fleeing downstairs, Ben shot a sick, terrified glance at me. “You, too, Kylie. Go to the safe room and bar the door behind you. Don’t open it for anything, understand?”
“What about you?” I gasped as he turned away. “Where are you going?”
“I have to get Dad!”
Ben fled down the hall, and I followed. Darting into the guest room, I slammed the door and leaned against it, panting, as Ben strode to the bed. Samson lay where he had all night, face up, eyes closed. But now, seeing him, I felt a chill go through my stomach. He was so very, very still. Too still.
“Ben,” I warned, but it was too late. He had already grabbed Samson’s arm to haul him over his shoulder. I watched, helpless, as Ben froze, staring down at his father, then slowly lowered the arm back to the mattress. His voice was a choked whisper in the shadows.
“He’s gone.”
Tears filled my eyes, more from the pain in Ben’s voice than for the man on the bed. He would never reconcile with his father now. And Samson had been harsh, abrasive, stubborn and infuriating, but he’d loved his family and, in his own way, done everything he could to protect them. He might not have been a good man, but Ben had loved him, and had struggled hard to be forgiven and accepted.
Which made what I was going to suggest even more horrible.
“Ben,” I said softly, hating that I had to bring it up. “We can’t leave him like this.” He gave me an anguished look, and I swallowed hard. “You have to...make sure he doesn’t come back,” I whispered. “You can’t let him turn into one of them, like Nathan.”
Understanding dawned on his face, followed by horror. I walked to the corner table and retrieved the revolver that Ben had given me that night. The metal was cool in my hands as I came back and stood in front of Ben, holding it out.
Ben’s eyes were glassy. He looked down at the gun and drew in a shuddering, ragged breath. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” My own throat was tight, but I swallowed the tears and continued to hold out the gun. “He would’ve wanted this, Ben. It has to be done, and it has to be you. Go on.” I lifted the revolver toward him. “Take it. Set him free.”
A sob tore its way past his lips, but Ben slowly reached out and took the weapon from my hands. Turning stiffly, he raised the gun and pointed it at the corpse on the bed, aiming it right between the eyes. He was shaking, trembling like a leaf, but his arm was steady. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, using his thumb to click back the hammer.
Samson’s eyes flashed open, blazing white. Turning his head, he screamed, baring fangs, and the boom of the revolver shook the bed and the walls. Samson fell back amid a pool of blood, the top of his head blown apart with the violent explosion, and Ben fell to his knees.
An answering screech rang out beyond the door, making me sick with fear. They were in the house! I lunged across the room and locked the door, just as a bang from the other side made me shriek in terror. I stumbled back into Ben, on his feet once more, as the door shook and rattled, and the maddened wails from the monsters grew more numerous as they crowded forward on the other side.
We pressed back into the corner by the curtained window, watching as the only thing between us and death began peeling away, shuddering under the relentless assault. Surprisingly, I felt calm. So, this was it. This was how I was going to die. At least...I wouldn’t be alone.
Ben’s arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back to his chest. I felt his forehead against the back of my neck, his warm breath on my skin. “I’m so sorry, Kylie,” he whispered, his voice shaking. I turned to face him, gazing up into those haunted brown eyes, placing a palm on his rough cheek.
“I love you, Ben,” I murmured, and watched his eyes widen. “I don’t regret any of this.” There was a splintering crack behind me, as a rabid tore a large chunk out of the door, but I didn’t turn. “You gave me a home, and a family, and if I had to do it all over, even knowing how it would end, I would still follow you anywhere.”
Ben leaned down, pressing his lips to mine, crushing them. I pressed forward, trying to feel him with my whole body, to merge my soul to his. We kissed one last time in that dark bedroom, the rabids shrieking at the door, Samson’s bloody corpse lying on the bed a few yards away.
Ben released my mouth, but he didn’t pull back, his forehead resting against mine. “They won’t take you,” he whispered fiercely, a bright, determined gleam in his eyes. “I won’t let them. You’re not going to die like that.”
The door shook again, rattling in its frame. They were almost through. Ben pulled back slightly, and there were tears in his eyes now, as I felt the cold barrel of the revolver under my jaw. It sent a shiver down my spine, but I wasn’t afraid. Yes, this was better. No pain, no teeth or claws tearing me open, ripping me apart. No chance to rise as one of them.
“It won’t hurt,” Ben promised, holding my gaze. “You won’t feel a thing, I swear. And I...I’ll be right behind you.”
He was shaking. I wrapped my fingers around his hand, holding it and the gun steady. He was watching me, waiting for my signal, to let him know I was ready. Behind me, the rabids screamed, almost as if they knew I was slipping away, to a place they couldn’t ever reach me. I almost smiled at the thought.
“Ready?” Ben whispered, and I took a deep breath. Behind him, through curtains and the slats in the window, I could see the sky, a soft dusky pink.
The window. “Wait!” I whispered, tightening my grip on his. “Ben, wait.”
I pushed at the gun, and it dropped instantly as Ben yanked it down with a shudder of relief. Taking one step around him, I reached for the thick, black curtains covering the boarded window and threw them back.
Orange light streamed between the cracks in the wood, bright and promising, throwing ribbon-thin slivers of light over the floor. “Ben!” I gasped, spinning toward him, but he was already moving. Snatching the shotgun off the floor, he slammed the butt into the window, and the sound of breaking glass joined the wild screeching of the rabids.
I joined him, using a book from the shelf to batter at the wood. Frantically, we pounded at the boards over the window frame, as the rabids wailed and screamed behind us. The nails held, and the boards loosened, though they stubbornly refused to give.
With a final crack, the door burst inward. Howling, the rabids swarmed the room, flinging themselves across the floor. I cringed, bracing myself, just as Ben gave the board one last blow, and it came loose, flying out and away from the window frame.
A bar of orange sunlight spilled over the floor between us and the lunging rabids, and amazingly, the monsters skidded to a halt. Ben pressed back into the corner, holding me tightly to him as the swarm hissed and snarled at the edge of the light. I clung to Ben, forcing myself to keep my eyes open, to face the monsters not five feet away. I could feel Ben’s heartbeat, his breath coming in short gasps, the strength of his arms crushing me to his chest. The rabids hissed, frustrated, and one of them inched forward, out of the shadows and into the light.
There was a different sort of hissing as smoke erupted from its white skin. The rabid shrieked, flinging itself backwards. Clawing at itself and wailing, it turned and fled the room, the stench of burned, rotten meat rising into the air. The other rabids hissed and growled and gnashed their fangs at us, but slowly followed its example, filing out of the room. I peeked out the window and saw the pale forms scramble off the porch into the shadows outside, darting into bushes and trees, keeping out of the sun.
In seconds, they had disappeared.
A hazy mist hung over the distant woods and fields, pooling in low spots and coiling through the branches. Somewhere in the trees, a bird called out, and another answered it. The rabids were gone. They would be back tonight, that was certain, but for now, they were gone and we were still alive.
Or, most of us were.
I looked up at Ben and found him staring out the window, a bit dazed. He was still breathing hard, and his heart was still pounding, but he closed his eyes and, without warning, crushed me to him in a desperate hug.
I returned it. We didn’t say anything. We didn’t state the obvious: they would be back tonight when the sun went down. We just held each other, content to listen to our breaths and heartbeats mingle as the sun crept farther into the sky and touched every living thing with light.
* * *
We buried Samson that morning, beneath a single pine tree that stood tall and straight in the middle of the field. The sky was clear, and the sun blazed overhead, slanting through the branches of the pine, speckling the bare patch of earth at the trunk. Ben wore a borrowed tie and jacket, and standing beside the grave, his hands clasped in front of him, he looked solemn and serious...and very much like his father.
“I haven’t been back long,” he said to the semicircle of kin on the other side of the mound. “I remember, just a few years ago, I was so eager to leave this place. So desperate to get away. And I did, for a while. The city was exciting and noisy and crowded, so different than the boring little stretch of farmland I left behind. I thought I would be happy there, on my own. I was wrong.
“Now,” he continued, meeting everyone’s gaze, “I realize what Dad was talking about. This is our home. And we’re going to defend it. We will stay strong, and rebuild, and start over. We will make a life here. Whatever it takes.” His gaze dropped to the mound of earth at his feet. “Dad would’ve wanted it that way.”
He bowed his head and stepped back. Rachel and some of the other women came forward to lay flowers over the grave. I held out my hand as he rejoined me, and he squeezed my palm.
Ben sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head to the sunlight. I watched him a moment, then bumped his shoulder with mine.
“What are you thinking about?”
He looked at me, his eyes clear and direct, as if the light had finally burned away the last of the guilt and anguish, and I was looking straight down into his soul. “Just...that everything is beautiful in the sun,” he said quietly, holding my gaze. “And that I’m home, finally, and I am going to take care of this family. That’s what he wanted, anyway. The last thing he said.”
I remembered Samson’s last words, whispered into Ben’s ear, and smiled. “Yeah?”
“Well, there was one more thing.” Ben stepped forward, gathering me into his arms. “He also insisted we get married in the fall, like him and Mom.”
I smiled through my tears. “Bossy, stubborn man. I guess we can’t say no.” Ben kissed me gently, a kiss full of promise, and love, and hope. Especially hope. Taking my hand, he laced his fingers through mine, and together we returned to the open arms of our family.
* * *
A full moon glimmered over the waves as they lapped against the dock, throwing fractured sliver light over the hull of the ship tethered there. Two figures stood at the end of the pier, speaking in low, intense voices. One was a sunburned, lanky man who smelled faintly of brine and was most at home on the open water. The other was a tall man with pale skin and eyes blacker than midnight. The pier bobbed up and down on the waves, and the lanky man shifted his weight subtly to compensate, but the tall stranger was as motionless as a statue.
“The pay was acceptable?” the tall man asked in a low, almost dangerous tone. His companion rubbed his beard and sighed.
“Yeah, it was fine. Last-minute, but fine. You’re lucky—I turned down the last poor sap who couldn’t pay up. Idiot thought I’d let him and his kid tag along for free. I don’t run a fucking charity here.” He eyed the stranger’s empty hands and shook his head. “Long way across the ocean, friend. Sure you don’t want to take anything? This ain’t a pleasure cruise, you know.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Captain.” A ghost of a smile tugged at the stranger’s lips. “I have everything I need right here.”
“Eh. Whatever. Let’s get moving, then. Time and tide wait for no man.”
The captain walked off, leaving the pier and striding up the ramp without a backward glance. But the tall stranger stood on the dock a moment more, letting the breeze play across his face. He turned, looking back the way he’d come, from a rabid-infested town and a small house and two humans he’d rescued on a whim. The boy was unimportant; it was her words he would remember, her words he would take with him on his long, impossible journey. His kin were already looking for him, vengeance and retribution foremost on their minds. He was not afraid of their wrath, but he could not allow himself to be destroyed just yet.
“I will make things right,” he whispered, a promise to her, to everyone. “The rabids are my creation, but I will atone for that mistake. And I will not stop until everything I have destroyed is returned to the way it was.”
“Oy, mister!” The captain stood at the top of the ramp, glaring down at him. “You coming or not? I’m getting too old for this kind of stress.”
The stranger smiled. Don’t worry, Captain, he thought, gliding down the pier. You won’t have that concern much longer, because this will be the last trip you and your crew will ever make. I did not lie when I said I have everything I need, right here.
Walking up the ramp, he nodded politely to the captain and continued inside. Ropes were tossed, anchors were pulled and the great ship slid easily into open water and vanished over the horizon.