I take another shot before walking to Lucy's cage. Getting jostled and jerked around, I manage to watch Lucy as music booms at me from all directions. The vibrations seem to cause my vision to thump with it. Lucy's hands grab at me frantically. The later it gets, the drunker people get, and they pay her no mind. I pull my Bersa from the small of my back and squeeze the trigger, shooting her in the head. Bloody, sticky bits splatter the DJ stand. The music stops abruptly, and I turn around. Everyone stares at me like I'm insane. Guido's catches my eye. A flash of something crosses his face, but I ignore it lifting my chin. Really? I'm the crazy one?

I head toward the door when the music cuts back on and the party resumes. Mac catches my arm, grinning. "Way to show your opinion."

I smile. Of course he already knows how I feel about Lucy 'giving back to the community.' I clear my throat, "Damn straight."

I go to bed in Mac's room after washing muck and make-up off my face. Mac stays behind to talk to Reece and Sam. I lay down on the bed, feeling the alcohol course through me. My strange night catches up to me.

On the way out of the Clap Trap, Mago blocked my passage. I didn't even know he was there, but he stood, staring down at me with unreadable dark eyes. My neck cramped from looking up at him. All black covered his whole being like a shadow of death ready to bring my inevitable doom.

"How do you do that?" I asked him in a slur of words.

Knowing I asked about Pappers, he smiled showing white teeth that brought much needed color to his dark face. Waving a hand at the chaos going on behind us. "Oh, you know... Just like having a pet." The words came out slow, and not without sarcasm, a fluent language for me. "Why did you shoot it?" This wasn't said as slow, making me believe this was the reason he kept me from leaving. He didn't seem mad, just curious, but strange he said it. Usually, the people here refer to them by gender, or like tonight, by name.

I mocked him, waving my arm. "Oh, you know... Just like having a pet, with rabies. Got to put it down." His eyes narrowed, knowing I didn't give him the whole truth, just the same as he didn't give me the whole truth. With his scrutiny getting to me, I fled down the hall and out the door.

A very strange night indeed, and one I don't want to think about too deeply. Feelings that I haven't felt in a long time resurfaced today, turning my thoughts to the day. The day Malachi and I left the carnival. Running to the car behind Malachi as he gripped my hand tight, narrowly avoiding more insane people. Blood dripped from his shoulder, leaving a trail in our wake. I drove as Malachi pressed an old shirt to his bite wound. I brought up the possibility of zombies. Malachi kept thinking it was something different, refusing to see, at first. We argued more than we had ever argued. I was crying, and by the time we got to the hospital, we weren't speaking. Tension thick between us, I never once let my mind float to the possibility of Malachi changing.

The hospital, in complete chaos, seemed like it held the whole city that day. Men and women waited impatiently with severe injuries while their children screamed and cried from the confusion. My phone showed twenty-four missed calls from my dad, but I ignored it. I ignored everything as I tried going to a place in my mind, to be numb. By that time, seeing the extent of the pandemonium, my tears flowed freely as Malachi squeezed my hand, trying to get me to look at him, whispering reassurances I knew were a lie.

We sat still, watching the scene in front of us. Now, I only recall it being the stupidest thing I had ever done. It's amazing I'm still alive. The crazed people being subdued, biting the orderlies trying to calm them down, taking chunks out right before our eyes. Shrieks and screams came from the back. A thick coppery smell mixed with antiseptic wafted through the ER waiting room. A doctor came through the double doors with blood running down his lab coat. It smeared his mouth and hands, and he seemed to see nothing as the glass doors slid open, letting him into the outside world.

We sat next to a sleeping man. I remember thinking how the hell could he be sleeping at a time like this? I found out soon enough when he woke up trying to bite me with vacant eyes, glazed and bloodshot. Drool ran down his mouth. Malachi jumped at him, keeping him away from me. He yelled at me to get the gun. The gun tucked into the man's pants, so I grabbed it. Malachi kicked the man backwards, grabbed my hand, and we raced out.

We went to the parking lot vacant of people, save for the massive amount of cars parked and lined up. An ambulance sat, crashed into the hospital, the siren still blaring, the first red flag upon going into the ER, unnoticed. Malachi began talking to me calmly.

I remember being dazed as the conversation flickers vaguely through my mind, "You were right...those people...I don't...I can't...never want to hurt you...my shoulder...pain..." Then, the one thing that snapped me out of it. "You have to shoot me."

I don't know what I said, but the tremors. Trying to control them was impossible. My voice cracked as I spoke. One thing I wasn't, though, was in denial. A selfish part of me didn't want to see him like that. Ever.

He held my shaking hands, still holding the gun, kissed my knuckles as tears rolled down my face. The love, forgiveness, guilt, and regret coming from him, I will never forget. "You're going to live." He said as his pupils dilated focusing on every part of my face, trying to be strong for me. Malachi never knew just how brave he was, and I never got to tell him. The emotions that flashed across his face that day bombard me now. I knew if I lived, I wouldn't ever be the same. It took me a few years to realize he tried to convince himself as much as he was assuring me. Maybe because he knew he was taking the easy way out. I don't blame him.

Pride for him flows through my swelling heart. Tears run down my face, and I wipe at them, hating to relive it, after so many weeks of bliss. Malachi would've never accepted the time I've spent grieving over him. He would want me to move on. It's hard, but I stop thinking about it before I start hearing him beg for me to shoot him.

Sometime very early in the morning, Mac comes into the room. I still have alcohol buzzing through me. Turning on a small lamp, he smiles. "Are you okay?"

I'm surprised he's not slurring, especially after staying out so late. "Yeah. I suppose."

"You can create quite a spectacle when you want to, you know?"

I sigh, "I couldn't... It didn't set well with me is all. You have to admit, that was fucked up." I sit up on my elbows. "She was in a goddamn ball gown for crying out loud."

His smile flashes at me. "You don't have to explain it to me." He cocks his eyebrow. "I'm proud of you. I might never be able to sleep again to keep people from killing you in the night, but..."

"Guido's mad, huh?"

"Royally pissed, I'd say. He'll get over it. I've done the same thing," he shrugs.

I smile at this, believing him. The way he shrugs off his homicidal tendencies should put me off, but it doesn't. Deep down, I wanted Harley dead. The other man may have easily shot one of us, Mac took it upon himself to protect us, and got shot in the process, a bullet meant for me.

Maybe I'm feeling vulnerable, maybe it's just been one of those days, but anything can happen. I'm tired of waiting out the inevitable. I want to live.

Mac looks tired, but I can wake him up. His eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, they lift showing me his clear blue eyes. Closing the distance, I kiss him, pulling at his full lips with mine. My hands slide around his neck as my fingers splay through his downy soft curls. Trailing to my neck, his lips move down to my collarbone. The sexual tension that's been building between us pulls as tight as it will go, the delicate threads popping one at a time. Heat flares through my body with a vengeance, and I'm not turning back. It's been too long.

The electric feeling hums through me, spreading intensely. I push him to a sitting position returning our mouths to each other. When I straddle him, he doesn't need any other prompting. Breaking the kiss he lifts my shirt off, and begins kissing me again making me groan at the feel of his tongue massaging mine, then tracing my lips. Soft lips trail down my jaw, then to my neck, and nibbles at my collarbone. I pull his shirt off, curls bouncing back into place, and run my hands through them. Returning his mouth to mine tightens my lower regions in anticipation before turning into a dull ache. My hips begin rocking of their own accord.

The floodgates open wide, and I push him down onto the bed exploring the contours of his body with my lips. His breath catches as my tongue swirls around his belly button as his sandy blonde happy trail tickles my chin. My hands trace his stomach to feel his breathing.

He sits up, bringing me with him, undoing my skirt and sending it flying over my head. My bra goes next. The way he looks at me makes me feel powerful in a way only a man who desires you can make you feel.

"You're potentially deadly." His eyes hold heat, promises, and a vulnerability I've never seen in him.

The next thing I know, he rips my panties. We wiggle, laughing as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, showing me he is more than ready. I'm right there with him, though. He teases my nipples as I tremble with anticipation, trying to go slow. I don't want slow. My dull ache has turned into a burning throbbing need. Shooting me a knowing grin, he guides me onto him. It feels like diving into a cool spring after crawling through a desert. We both watch as we connect in the most intimate way, for the first time, gasping from the feel of it.

Mac navigates my hips with his hands using a thumb to rub at my core eventually making me throw my head back as waves of powerful passion come so easily after so long. He lies back to get a full view, watching me with half lidded eyes. Removing his hands from my hips, he lets me take control, as he traces my body, returning to tease me in a tantalizing way. Breathing heavy with the escalating buildup, I come in intense waves sending shocks through my body from the inside out.

Flipping over, I gasp at the intimacy at having a lover around the same height. We look at each other with ease, kissing while we connect with steady thrusts. His soft curls are beneath my fingers as my desire began builds again. This time, the release is stronger, causing me to cry out as I ride out its intensity, and he moves erratically putting his forehead to mine. I watch him lose control as he gives himself to me I've never thought him more beautiful. He stops moving, both of us breathing heavily and satisfied.

He smiles. "I don't think I'll wake up from a dream this time, Sunshine."

I grin and pant, "No, I don't think you will."

The early morning sun shines in through the small window. After more fleshy indulgence, I'm on the brink of sleep, in a lazy haze with aftershocks that I've never experienced before. Glancing at Mac, he has the same look I'm feeling. He notices me gazing at him and tightens his arms around me.

"We should get some sleep," I say, blinking heavily.

"No way, and miss your trembling body? No thanks, Sunshine. We have all day to sleep." His smile is charming. Opening my eyes all the way, I don't want to waste time either. Who knows what will happen when we make it to the base?

"I take that back. Sleep is over rated." I lean up to kiss him, straddling him as I had the first round.

"What?" he asks softly and slowly, with a grin.

"I didn't wear you out, did I?" I whisper in his ear, making sure my breath hits gently.

Suddenly, he flips me over, "I'll take that as a challenge." I laugh, lifting my head as he begins to tease my neck and collarbone. His body tenses, "But I think I should tell you something."

The tone doesn't sound good. I groan as his aqua eyes peer into mine, "No. Don't ruin this, please." I run my fingertips down the side of his face. The feeling coursing through me makes me feel alive with hope. Hope to get past the next several days, so I can live some more.

"No, you need to know. I told Rudy to tell you, but he obviously hasn't." Uneasiness squirms into my brain. Now that I'm thinking clearly, his dance was definitely a tease. I probably seemed like a drunken fool, panting over him.

I wave my hand in a go on gesture. "Julie is his fiancee," he blurts it out fast, letting out a gush of relieved air. My heart picks up speed as everything clicks into place.

"Why would he lie to me about that? He said they were like family." Mac looks at me like I'm missing the obvious, but something else comes to mind I can lash out at. "This is what you've been fighting about? And why would you think I'd care?" He looks down. I realize that I do care, stuff it down before he can see it.

"I'm not stupid, Kansas, I know you feel something for him. I was afraid if I told you, I would never know if I were second choice. I did want him to tell you, but we both knew it would hurt you in some way."

"It's not like that, Mac. We're just good friends." How many times have I said this? I sigh just throwing it out there, wanting to clear the air. "Yeah, Rudy is attractive. I may have thought about what it'd be like to take a tumble in the sack with him. What female that has ever been lucky enough to be in his presence wouldn't? I have never made any steps for our relationship to go further than platonic." I turn over with my back to him.

He sighs, kissing my shoulder before falling back to the bed. "I didn't intend to upset you."

I shake my head and sigh, "You didn't Mac. Just be honest with me." Was I being honest with myself? Now that I know the truth, I'm right in assuming Rudy and I innocently flirt. "I understand why you didn't tell me. It's no reason for you and Rudy to be mad at each other when friends are hard to come by these days." Something else niggles at my brain, but it'll come to me in time. This new revelation takes up prime residence in my mind. I should at least admit to myself, that part of me wants to be the only one who can make Rudy blush.

Later in the morning, around midday, Mac wakes me up in a way that I haven't been woken up in a long time. Already making this day a good one.

We lay panting, and laughing when he asks, "Any morning after regrets?"

"Yes," I state.

He looks worried for a second, but I say, "I regret waiting so long." A bright smile comes across his features, liking my answer. Feeling elated with floating, happy, shiny thoughts, I kiss him.

We finally make it out of bed. Mac eats some beef jerky he found at Target yesterday. I don't see how he is eating as the jerky crunches between his teeth. I stick with an apple, and drink some flat Mountain Dew we looted. I borrow his comb to comb my hair, knowing I'll have to get a brush. Already tired of brushing it, I tie it into a ponytail. He smirks, watching me slip on his white T-shirt.

He's going to the marketplace to pack up his booth. I decide to target practice with the compound bow, and he will meet me at the targets soon. After a kiss that has us both wanting to stay in bed to explore a new stage in our relationship, we part for a while.

The sun shines, lifting my mood higher. Mac and I have great chemistry, which I already knew. A burden has lifted from my shoulders. The archery range is beyond the fence beside the greenhouse, a little too secluded, but I don't worry about famished because of the sun.

My bow shots get better, after the first few. It's a relaxing and stress relieving art. My mood slips a little when I see Rudy come around the corner of the family dorms. He glances at my flying arrows.

"Hey Rudy! What's up?" I smile at him, feeling awkward about our dance and my all night activities. I don't know what to say to him about his lie, so I don't say anything. Well, not a lie, but an omission.

He studies me as I hit the target. "It finally happened," he says quietly, looking into the distance.

I lower the bow, disengaging an arrow, "What happened?" I ask cautiously.

"You and Mac," he shrugs, still looking away. I narrow my eyes, and can't believe he is bringing this up. I feel hurt, stung because my friend is making me feel guilty about something I'm completely happy with.

Mac probably didn't make it a secret, but I will talk to him later. It pisses me off. "Not that it's your business, but I've been fucking Mac for a while now! I've been sleeping in his room, remember?" He finally looks at me, his face impassive.

"You haven't been sleeping with Mac, because you've been sleeping in the vault for weeks. I know because I check on you every night," he shrugs. "You weren't there last night after you and Mac left the party. Why would you tell me you've been sleeping in Mac's room?"

Awe sweeps through me at his thoughtfulness to check on me, but I'm still mad. "What else was I supposed to do? You wanted space, right? So, I gave you space."

He shakes his head, "You jumped to assumptions. It was only a suggestion."

I want to say something to make him angry, most likely because I feel foolish. "Why don't you go pay for Candy's services?"

It doesn't work. He gives me a mirthless smirk. "Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free?" he taunts. A cockiness overtakes his demeanor. I only now realize I sound jealous and he's using it. What the hell did he want me to say?

My mouth hangs open, but I use new enlightenment. "I know that you wouldn't do that, though. Wouldn't want to cheat on your fiancee." I try to keep my voice calm but I'm glaring at him, so I'm sure it lessens the effect of any indifference.

Anger flashes in his eyes and his jaw clenches. Finally. He's mad, too. Now we can really duke it out. "He finally told you, huh? Is that why you slept with him?" he spits out in complete chagrin. His fists clench and unclench at his sides. Just like a guy to turn it right back around.

Outraged, I retaliate. "No, I was horny and attacked him like a wild beast!" I deliberately use his description of me that once made him blush. I don't know why I said it, maybe to get a reaction.

He knows what I refer to, and narrows his eyes. "What about your guy at the base?" This he spits at me in disgust. His question stuns me, but it clicks.

My laugh is humorless. "That's why he asked about Malachi. You told Mac I have someone at the base. Perfect. How did you even know about Malachi? I've never told you. For clarification, I had to kill Malachi four years ago!" I yell at him, tears stinging my eyes. My face is hot and probably blazing red. I know, for a fact, I never mentioned Malachi in my notebook, either.

His eyes widen, staring at me like he's never seen me before. The silence is awkward. I can see the fight going out of him. His intense gaze flashes pain before looking away from my face. He doesn't answer my question but asks one instead. "Then why are you so determined to get into that base, Kansas?" Rudy looks as confused and frustrated as I feel.

I stare at him open mouthed. "I was helping you," I look to the ground. "You helped me, still do."

"But you were going there anyway," he says, making a good point. I can see why he jumped to conclusions.

"I was going to see if I could find out anything useful. Gain knowledge, and, you know? Help people."

"I'm so sorry, Kansas." He runs a hand through his hair. When he looks back at me, his face is wiped of any emotion. "You're right. It's not my business. I'll see you later." I let out a breath as he stalks toward the fenced in courtyard.

Why did he care? I decide on the uncomplicated conclusion he thought I had someone at the base and wanted me to keep my morals intact. I wipe at my eyes, refusing to cry. I shoot another arrow hard and it goes completely off target. My great mood is officially out the window. Damn, I forgot to ask him how he knew about Malachi. At this moment though, it's not important. His actions shock me. I've never taken him for a confrontation kind of guy. I take a few more arrow shots that go down away from the bulls-eye. Taking a deep breath, I need to focus. This target isn't even moving and I'm having trouble hitting it.

"Hi-ya!" A voice startles me, making my heart go into double time. I turn to see a man behind me. I don't recognize him, but that doesn't mean he isn't from the community. He sounds cheerful, but in a Pennywise the Dancing Clown way with a smile that creeps me out, making me take a step back. I expect him to give me a balloon and say, "We all float down here."

He's rounded in the cheeks and belly with gray hair cut crudely. Brown trousers and a cream colored shirt under a brown vest, makes him look to be from a different time. When I look him in the eye, his eyes go two different directions. Lazy eyes, but I know he's studying me closely. I know he can't help it, but I wonder if he can keep a watch on different things at the same time. That would be kind of spiffy. Except for the whole outward appearance of it.

An eye wanders at the targets. They move back and forth in an eerie way. I really shouldn't judge his disability, but it's disturbing to watch. "Good shot," he says, trying for neutral conversation. I don't see how he can say that, since only one arrow stabs the bulls-eye.

I try not to look repulsed. It's not just his eyes, but the vibe coming from him is threatening. "Thanks. I better be going," I say, backing up some more and bend to pick up my arrow holster. His feet move toward me.

"I don't think so," he says, just as cheery. When I look up, he pistol-whips me on the head, and darkness invades.

Chapter 28.

Breathing in Mac through my nostrils, I smile and snuggle closer to him, but realize he's not beside me. Peeking an eye open, I take in the unfamiliar setting, an apartment bedroom. Awareness and memory burn through my consciousness, remembering the pistol-whip as a throb forms in my head. I'm stupid for not keeping an eye on that man. An unofficial, unspoken rule never turn your back on an enemy.

"Stay lying down. I'm sure your head must hurt," a female voice cautions. A homely woman, in her early thirties, sits beside me with straw brown hair parted down the middle, going into a bun at the nape of her neck. Shutting the book in her lap, she pushes up her glasses that magnify a black eye. It didn't cover up her dark eyes or long nose, too pointy for her round facial structure and body.

Her lips harden as she smoothes a long cloth gown, "He wasn't supposed to hit you."

"Where am I? Who are you?" I ask her.

"I'm Isabel, and where you are is really better left unsaid," she says, leaning back with an eye roll as if she had better things to do than babysit me.