Erin M. Leaf Read Free

the moodiness. She would not let this nightmare creature have Olivia.
    “ Die motherfucker,” she muttered, swinging again and again. She banged at its face grimly, pointlessly, and then a blade came out of nowhere and sliced through its neck like magic. The zombie’s eyes went white-hot, and then the entire thing vaporized in a flash, leaving the acrid smell of ozone to linger in the room like a shroud. “Fuck,” she said hoarsely.
    Olivia fell down, clutching her arm to her chest. Lark dropped her bat and went to her knees next to her. She grabbed her friend ’s hand and looked up, tears screwing with her vision. Olivia’s hand was already cold, dammit. Dillon, Olivia’s dad’s best friend held a machete over them, panting. His face was white and he swallowed, hard, as though he needed desperately to throw up.
    “ Fuck,” Lark said again as reality crashed back into her. She tossed the bat out of the way and leaned over Olivia, ripping at the sheet on her bed. She tied it around Olivia’s upper arm, tourniqueting the wound. In the back of her mind, she knew it was too late, but she couldn’t accept that Olivia was already gone. She just couldn’t.
    “ Dad,” Olivia said quietly, voice thick.
    Lark ’s let go of the sheet as her heart broke. She looked at her best friend’s face. Fuck. Olivia knew she was dead. “Olivia, don’t talk. We’ll get you out of here,” she found herself saying, uselessly.
    “ Dad, I love you,” Olivia said, looking past Lark. Her eyes shifted. “You too, Uncle Dillon.” She gritted her teeth and looked at Lark. “You’re the sister I never had.”
    Lark ’s face was wet, and she couldn’t see right. She felt Olivia’s dad near her, his body large and warm and she had to stifle the urge not to lean back to feel how alive he was. “You too, Olivia. You too,” she said instead, clutching her friend’s hand. It felt wrong. Cold and corpse-like. The stupid zombie virus worked so fucking fast.
    “ Dad,” Olivia said again, and then he was even closer to Lark on the floor.
    Lark stared at him, trying to decipher the look on his face, then gave up. Nothing could be as horrible as losing a child, she realized.
    He reached out, hand shaking, and touched her face. “It’s okay, little Olivia,” he said, and Lark didn’t know how he did it, but he smiled at his daughter. “It’s okay. You go to sleep now.”
    Lark sucked in a horrible breath as she realized what he meant. She had a moment to think, oh no, and then she understood. His green eyes, so like Olivia’s, glittered with unshed tears.
    “ We love you, Olivia,” Dillon said, still standing. He looked behind him quickly, then dropped down and kissed Olivia quickly on the forehead before standing back up.
    “ Dad, take care of Lark,” Olivia managed, but her skin was already changing.
    “ No, no, no,” Lark said, gripping Olivia’s hand more tightly. “No—”
    “ Promise—” Olivia said, eyes filming over. “Dillon, promise—”
    Lark looked at him just as he glanced at her. She wasn ’t sure she’d ever seen such devastation in a man’s eyes, but it didn’t scare her. She understood. She’d felt the same way when her parents died. She felt the same way now, with Olivia on the floor of their dorm, no longer laughing and alive. Above them, Dillon stood sentinel, his face carved from granite. He was just as wrecked as Mr. Greene— no, he said to call him Ben, Lark thought idiotically. She forced herself to let go of Olivia’s hand and back up.
    “ I promise,” Ben said, voice breaking.
    “ We promise,” Dillon said, hands clenching on the machete so hard his knuckles went white.
    Lark looked back at Olivia. Her friend smiled faintly, then her head lolled to the side. “Oh, no. No,” she murmured as her best friend’s eyes flashed white, then settled into dead grey. She blinked, and faster than she could comprehend, Ben snatched the machete from Dillon’s hands and chopped her head off