Dead Sexy by Aleah Barley

the side of his neck would have been throbbing… if he had a pulse.
    When I waved the meat in the air, his gaze was intent and predatory.
    I’d had some granola bars in the car, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen D.S. eat. “You hungry?”
    “I could eat the damn dog.”
    “Right.” I shifted backwards half a step, careful not to get too close while I still had blood on my fingers.
    The dog was staring straight at me now. I waved the remaining steak. It yawned again. Clearly the beast was only interested in eating fresh meat if it was my ass.
    I ground my teeth together. If zombies could make do with a nice bloody steak then so could the carnivorous canine. 
    Of course, why just distract the animal when I could scare him off permanently?
    “Here.” I wagged the meat under D.S.’s nose.
    “Don’t do that,” he growled.
    “Do what?” I wiggled the steak a second time.
    “Don’t do it,” he warned.
    Too late. I was trusting D.S. not to take a chunk out of me when there was a bloodier alternative, but that was more a hope and a prayer than blind faith. Once I had his attention, I needed to move fast.
    I aimed quickly and threw in an easy overhand motion.
    Once the meat was in the air, instinct took over. The dog lunged forward, heading straight for the bloody Frisbee. He wasn’t the only one. D.S. moved at the same time, long legs propelling him forward at a fast clip.
    The clean-cut government agent from the day before was gone.
    He finally looked like a Biter.
    Hell, he looked like something someone would pay me to hunt.
    D.S. snatched the steak out of the air with one hand and took a big ol’ bite. His teeth flashed. Blood dripped down his chin.
    When the dog reached him a moment later, D.S. let out a low growl from deep in his chest. Predator against predator, they circled each other warily. The Biter was still ripping at the steak with his mouth, blood spilling onto the ground. The dog lunged forward, growling. It hit D.S. solidly in the side, sinking its teeth into his shoulder.
    D.S. shook himself, shaking the dog off onto the ground. Was he going to be okay? The animal growled at him savagely, and he growled back. The sound was low in the back of his throat, but it seemed to get the point across.
    The man was going to be okay. It was time to get to work.
    I edged around the side of the yard, up the little house’s front steps, and through the open front door.
    The interior of the house was dark and dingy. The wallpaper was yellowing unevenly from the elements, and the curtains were in tatters.
    The only noise came from the animals tussling outside on the front lawn.
    I held my breath as I edged my way forward into the body of what had once been a living room, pausing when the floorboards groaned underneath my feet. Nothing happened. I waited one second then another. Still nothing.
    Okay, so the house was a little creaky. At least it seemed structurally sound. I glanced around, taking a little more time to look at Andrea’s hideout. Her castle. There was a jar full of wilting flowers on the windowsill.
    There were two ways out of the living room: up the stairs to the house’s second story and through a narrow door in the back of the room to the combination kitchen and dining room. I headed for the kitchen. The house seemed solid enough, but I wasn’t about to take any chances without an okay from a structural engineer, or someone to catch me when I fell.
    The kitchen had pink tile floors the same color as the window treatments outside. The counter was pink too. I could definitely tell why the place might interest an eleven-year-old girl. What I couldn’t figure out was why her parents had let her come here by herself.
    The bag of Whacko burgers I’d given Andrea the night before was crumpled on the floor. The dining room table had been taken out when the homeowners left, but some of the chairs were still grouped awkwardly in the corner where they’d been moved to make room for a