strong. He was fast. He could do this. He could. She’d never been big on faith. But she had faith in him.
Angus gave a grunt and a heave and the infected flew backwards. Angus rolled to the side, scrunched up into a ball.
Now.
Natalie pushed the pot off the railing. Gravity took over and it plummeted straight down. The infected was rising slowly from the ground, ready to attack Angus again. The pot smashed into its shoulder and the thing tumbled back onto the pavement, arm dangling crookedly and a low moan coming from its mouth.
Angus wasted no time. He leapt to his feet, grabbed the shotgun and reversed it. Rammed the stock into the thing’s face. Bone splintered and cracked. It didn’t move again.
Thank God.
Other infected had gathered below. They stood rattling the fence, wanting in. The chorus of moaning grew louder by the minute. Angus had a hell of an audience assembling, straining against the barrier, bloody hands reaching out to grab him. The glare of the sun obviously forgotten in their hunger.
“Hurry,” she hissed. Loudly. “Get up here.”
Angus nodded and shoved the shotgun into his pack. Pulled up a deck chair and stepped onto it, stretching, reaching up for the first-floor balcony. He started to climb. He was moving. He was safe. It would all be okay.
But the ground loomed below and blood surged hot inside Natalie’s head, drowning out everything like a bass drum beating loud behind her ears. She staggered back from the railing, legs like water. Throat shut tight and her shoulders up to her ears.
It was so high. The balcony was bad.
Really. Just. Bad.
She stumbled inside, sat her butt back on the thick carpeting before she fell down. Breathing deep. Waiting.
It didn’t take him long to reach her.
Angus’s big hands gripped the bars of the railing and he pulled himself up slowly. The muscles in his arms bunched and strained in ways that took her mind off the height thing. His eyes shone and his teeth were gritted but he gave her a wide, relieved smile when he cleared the top. She grinned back, helpless to resist. If she hadn’t already been sitting she would have hit the floor.
He was actually there. He hadn’t left her after all, this beautiful boy.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself.” Her eyes welled anew. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No.” He looked taller than she’d realised. He seemed … well, it was harder to dismiss him as a boy when he was this close. When he had just risked his life for her. Angus knelt down in front of her, dark brows drawn together. “Are you alright?”
She nodded, hoped it was convincing. Seemed she’d used up her daily allotment of courage. Her trembling hands itched to grab hold of him. To hold on tight and never let him go, keep him safe somehow. Huh. She’d probably scare the crap out of the poor guy.
“You sure?” he asked, eyes not unkind. “You’re looking kind of freaked out.”
“Oh, I’m fine.” She gave a rough laugh. “Another day in paradise.”
Angus didn’t laugh.
He had short, dark blonde hair and a strong jaw covered in stubble. His nose was a little wide, his mouth a little generous. Pale blue eyes as clear as the summer sky stared back at her. “You went out onto the balcony, Nat. That was really brave.”
“No, what you did was brave. I threw a pot.”
“I’d be dead if you hadn’t been there.”
“Oh. I was worried about you.” Natalie tucked her brown hair behind her ears, studied her toes. Over-aware of everything all of a sudden. The way he watched her was … intense. Sitting around in her shorts and a tank top had seemed wise back when she hadn’t been expecting any visitors. Angus wore sneakers and cargo shorts, a T-shirt of some band she didn’t know. The Soviet X-Ray Record Club, whoever they were. He looked good, while she showed a lot of skin – including dimpled thighs definitely not belonging to a girl in her twenties.
Such a stupid thing to worry about, given the
Angus gave a grunt and a heave and the infected flew backwards. Angus rolled to the side, scrunched up into a ball.
Now.
Natalie pushed the pot off the railing. Gravity took over and it plummeted straight down. The infected was rising slowly from the ground, ready to attack Angus again. The pot smashed into its shoulder and the thing tumbled back onto the pavement, arm dangling crookedly and a low moan coming from its mouth.
Angus wasted no time. He leapt to his feet, grabbed the shotgun and reversed it. Rammed the stock into the thing’s face. Bone splintered and cracked. It didn’t move again.
Thank God.
Other infected had gathered below. They stood rattling the fence, wanting in. The chorus of moaning grew louder by the minute. Angus had a hell of an audience assembling, straining against the barrier, bloody hands reaching out to grab him. The glare of the sun obviously forgotten in their hunger.
“Hurry,” she hissed. Loudly. “Get up here.”
Angus nodded and shoved the shotgun into his pack. Pulled up a deck chair and stepped onto it, stretching, reaching up for the first-floor balcony. He started to climb. He was moving. He was safe. It would all be okay.
But the ground loomed below and blood surged hot inside Natalie’s head, drowning out everything like a bass drum beating loud behind her ears. She staggered back from the railing, legs like water. Throat shut tight and her shoulders up to her ears.
It was so high. The balcony was bad.
Really. Just. Bad.
She stumbled inside, sat her butt back on the thick carpeting before she fell down. Breathing deep. Waiting.
It didn’t take him long to reach her.
Angus’s big hands gripped the bars of the railing and he pulled himself up slowly. The muscles in his arms bunched and strained in ways that took her mind off the height thing. His eyes shone and his teeth were gritted but he gave her a wide, relieved smile when he cleared the top. She grinned back, helpless to resist. If she hadn’t already been sitting she would have hit the floor.
He was actually there. He hadn’t left her after all, this beautiful boy.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself.” Her eyes welled anew. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No.” He looked taller than she’d realised. He seemed … well, it was harder to dismiss him as a boy when he was this close. When he had just risked his life for her. Angus knelt down in front of her, dark brows drawn together. “Are you alright?”
She nodded, hoped it was convincing. Seemed she’d used up her daily allotment of courage. Her trembling hands itched to grab hold of him. To hold on tight and never let him go, keep him safe somehow. Huh. She’d probably scare the crap out of the poor guy.
“You sure?” he asked, eyes not unkind. “You’re looking kind of freaked out.”
“Oh, I’m fine.” She gave a rough laugh. “Another day in paradise.”
Angus didn’t laugh.
He had short, dark blonde hair and a strong jaw covered in stubble. His nose was a little wide, his mouth a little generous. Pale blue eyes as clear as the summer sky stared back at her. “You went out onto the balcony, Nat. That was really brave.”
“No, what you did was brave. I threw a pot.”
“I’d be dead if you hadn’t been there.”
“Oh. I was worried about you.” Natalie tucked her brown hair behind her ears, studied her toes. Over-aware of everything all of a sudden. The way he watched her was … intense. Sitting around in her shorts and a tank top had seemed wise back when she hadn’t been expecting any visitors. Angus wore sneakers and cargo shorts, a T-shirt of some band she didn’t know. The Soviet X-Ray Record Club, whoever they were. He looked good, while she showed a lot of skin – including dimpled thighs definitely not belonging to a girl in her twenties.
Such a stupid thing to worry about, given the
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