Sparrow's Flight Read online

  “Keep quiet or you’ll wake her.” They were silent for a minute, and he heard Mason exhale. “She isn’t plotting anything, Mace.” He breathed out deeply again. “And I know you know that.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you are way too trusting. How do you think she’d react if I told her about myself, about the things I’ve seen and done, and about how fucked-up I really am? She’ll freak.” Maybe she would, and maybe Asher was too trusting, but Mace was reserved, even with him. It had taken him weeks to give Asher more information than just his name and where he was from. Granted, Mason had a fucked up life, but a lot of people did, and especially now that everything had happened. They had been traveling together for the last three months, but had only been intimate for the last two. When they ran into each other back in Whitewash there had been tension between them. They were both dominating in their own way, loners as well, but they realized their skills were a lot more useful put together than separately. But Asher hadn’t lost what Mace did, and sure as hell hadn’t led the same dangerous life either, despite fighting for a living. So although Asher believed in moving forward and trying to make the most out of the hand they were dealt, he gave Mason a wide berth when it came to his emotions. There was still a lot of mystery to the man that Asher had grown to care about. He was demanding and alpha all the way, controlling and growly, and because Asher was the same way they clashed, quite a bit. But it was just the two of them anymore, and they were passionate about everything they did.

  “Are you really going to sit there and tell me you don’t find her attractive? Or that you don’t like having her around, even if she is quiet?” Asher didn’t need to look over at her to picture the way she had her dark hair piled atop her head, or the fact he had watched her on more than one occasion let those tresses down until they tumbled along her back in thick waves. He also could picture her light green eyes, so clearly as if she was standing right in front of him. Before Mason responded he continued. “I know you still hurt, and I know that won’t go away, but you have to remember that she is just like us, trying to survive.” He reached out and took hold of Mason’s had. He wouldn’t push him to tell Sparrow about himself, or why he kept that massive roadblock in front of him, but if they planned on keeping her around they needed to work together. “She may quiet, but I can see the fire in her eyes, and if I can I know you can.” Mason was quiet for a long minute.

  “I’m not admitting to anything.” Mace was a stubborn fucker, but Asher smiled. He knew the other man well enough to know he wanted Sparrow, even if he was trying to be this cold, hard-ass man. They would never act upon those desires, not unless by some miracle she wanted them both, because that was the only way they would have her. But the fact Mason refused to answer him told Asher that the looks he had seen the other man giving her when he thought no one was watching were indeed looks of need. They might find relief, pleasure, and care about each other, but they had always been with females. She was pretty, really fucking pretty, too. Even under the smudges of dirt that were smeared across her face he had seen the alabaster quality, and the very faint sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was a little too thin for what he had normally gone for, but it wasn’t like they had an abundance of food anymore.

  “We need to stock up on supplies.” Leave it to Mace to totally fucking change the subject to avoid having to deal with what was presently in front of him. “I know there is a larger grocery store in Rockport. Hopefully we can see if anything was left behind.” They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

  “You said another twenty-five miles or so until the cabin?”

  “Yeah.” They were headed to Mason’s cabin, one that he said was isolated high in the Rockies, and one that he had stocked before all of this went down. It had to be fate that brought the two of them, and even Sparrow, together. Leave it to a military man to be prepared. But they wouldn’t know if the cabin was still standing, or if it had been discovered and taken over until they got there. Asher closed his eyes, and right when sleep was about to claim him he heard the deep, low moan of an infected making their way through the trees beside the debilitated building. He sensed the moment Sparrow woke because she held her breath. Fortunately she didn’t make a sound or move. She was smart, but then again she wouldn’t have lasted this long if she wasn’t. The sound of twigs breaking became closer, and before Mason could stand Asher was up and moving closer to the window. He placed a hand on the knife strapped to his waist and rose up on his toes in order to see out of the window. He spotted the infected male right away, and after a quick sweep of the surrounding area, didn’t see any others roaming around. The moonlight cut through the trees and bathed the guy in a bluish tint.

  “How many?” Mason whispered roughly, and Asher sensed him move behind him.

  “One, as far as I can see.” The infected lifted his head and opened his mouth in a silent cry. Blood oozed out of his mouth, nose, and eyes. The blood looked black in the moonlight, but he knew even if it was daylight it wouldn’t have been red. It was old blood, congealed and dead, just like them, because they were rotting from the inside out. His flesh was black in some areas, necrotic and starting to spread across his gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes. They had never said what was in those immunizations exactly, but whatever it was had to be some pretty toxic shit, given the fact this was the end result. There were of course conspiracy theories, ones that talked about society being used as an experiment, and that experiment went deadly wrong. Of course nothing was ever explained to them, but why would it be? In the end Asher didn’t give two fucks about any of that, because nothing could be changed.

  The infected male wore an old mechanic’s uniform, and the stained name patch stated he was “Steve”.

  “Think he used to work here?” Asher whispered, speaking to Mason.

  “No. They are brain dead, Ash.” An owl hooted in the distance, and Steve whipped his head toward the sound. He made another low, wet gurgle and moved back into the thick trees lining the back of the building. The infected may only go after humans, but any little noise drew their attention as if they couldn’t focus, and had the attention span of a toddler. For whatever reason, and of course one that was never explained to them, the sick didn’t go after anything other than humans. But animals were smart, knew to stay away from the infected, and didn’t let them get close anyway. But Asher had seen a deer get startled and run by one of the sick, and all the female did was stare at the animal with curiosity. She didn’t chase it, moan and groan, and get frantic like he had seen them do around healthy humans. It was a mystery to him, would forever be one as well seeing as there was no one left to explain what in the hell had gone wrong.

  He watched “Steve” move slowly through the underbrush. They were slow as fuck, and it was easy enough to get by them, but if they caught a person it was like they had the strength of ten men. But then again neither he nor Mason actually let them have the chance to attack. They went in, destroyed their brain by a clean stab in their head, and kept moving. They continued to stand still and watched “Steve” stumble into the woods and disappear. For several minutes they did nothing but scan the area, making sure there weren’t any more that would come out. Another mystery was the fact the infected liked to stay in groups. It might have been said that they were brain-dead, but it seemed as if they knew there was power in numbers, and that was clear when Asher had seen five of them swarm in on a fresh body. There weren’t any suspicious sounds, and Asher found himself relaxing his shoulders and letting his hand fall away from where his knife was.

  Mason rested his hand on Asher’s outer thigh, and the feel of his warm breath puffing against the back of his neck had his heart pounding a bit faster. Neither moved for several long moments, but then Mason slid his hand further toward the front of Asher’s pants, and placed his palm right over his erection. Leave it to the relief of not having to take down one of the sick, and the feel of this hard, muscular man pressed against him, and Asher was raring to go for another round.
He turned and faced Mason, and everything else faded away except tasting this man. They stared at each other for a long, suspended moment. Their mouths met together in a tangle of lips and tongues. Ash speared his hands in Mason’s hair, and he did the same. They tugged at the strands, the pain and desire mixing as one until they were the only sensations roaring inside of Asher. But then he heard the sharp sound of a deep inhale. Snapping his eyes open and pushing away from Mason, his gaze landed right on Sparrow. It was too dark for him to really see her, but he could feel her eyes right on him, and he knew the light from the moon gave her enough to see exactly what they had been doing. His erection throbbed behind his jeans at the thought that she had been watching. Shit, he needed to get his crap together, because making her feel uncomfortable and thrusting his relationship with Mason in front of her face was not what he had been going for.

  He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry.” He kept his voice low, and found himself taking a step closer. “It’s all good. The infected wandered off.” Changing the subject seemed like a good deterrent. He heard her swallow, but neither he nor Sparrow mentioned the fact that he had almost fucked Mason, or vice versa, right in front of her. Letting his guard down and allowing his desires to ride him were not safe, and he should have known better. “You’re good?” He ran a hand over the back of his neck and looked at Mason. He was looking out the window, seemingly like he couldn’t care less about what was happening inside the shop, but Asher could see the way his muscles flexed under the skin of his cheek.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” There was a catch in her voice, and for a moment he could have sworn there was arousal laced in her words. No, that can’t be right. More likely she was shocked as fuck that they couldn’t control themselves. He wanted to assure her that they would never let anything happen to her, that they would protect her, and that thrusting their sexual relationship in her face was not intentional. When he told her, without flat-out saying he and Mason fucked, she hadn’t really responded. He didn’t know if she was okay with it, didn’t really care if she wasn’t, but that didn’t mean he wanted to make her uncomfortable, or put her in an awkward position either. Sparrow may have only been in their company for the last three days, but the alpha male inside of him wanted to ensure her safety. There wasn’t a doubt that she had issues taking down the sick, but she was half the size of them, and so fucking young.

  He nodded, knowing she could see him even if he couldn’t see her. He sat back down on his pallet and brought his knees up so he could rest his forearms on them. Fuck, he was tired and aroused, and confused as fuck. It had been far too long since he had felt the softness of a female. Mason was hard muscle and strength, just like him, but Sparrow was so much smaller than they were, so delicate and fragile looking, even if she was strong in her own right. Mason stayed by the window for a few more minutes, and despite the fact he refused to acknowledge that he wanted Sparrow, Asher knew better. After a while Mason finally sat back on his pallet, but did not make a move to touch Asher. He was pissed for whatever reason, and Asher was too tried, and too annoyed by the other man’s aloofness to every fucking thing that he lay down, closed his eyes, and prayed for one night of restful sleep.

  Chapter Three

  It was March, and even though the sun was right above them it was still a bit chilly. Sparrow adjusted her backpack on her shoulder and picked up her pace so she wasn’t so far behind Mason and Asher. She had noticed them look over their shoulders a few times, but they kept the same quick speed as they stayed near the tree line. They had been walking for what seemed like half the day, and she had heard Mason murmur that they should be nearing Rockport within the next ten minutes. A green sign indicated they were entering Holten County. The glint of a car pulled off to the side of the road had Mason holding up his hand for everyone to stop. He gestured for them to move farther into the protection of the trees, and then curled his fingers for them to follow behind him. He lowered his hand to the handgun tucked in the back of his jeans, and pressed his other hand to the knife attached to his outer thigh. She saw Asher unsheathing a long hunting knife, and held her breath on what their next move would be.

  “Stay behind me, Sparrow.” Asher kept his voice low, but before she could take one more step he curled his fingers around her waist and pulled forward until she was flush with his body. Her chest was pressed to his back, and she had to look around his arm just to see anything. Sparrow wasn’t weak by any means, could take care of herself, and had at every opportunity, but she would be lying if she didn’t admit, if only to herself, that she liked having this big, strong man wanting to protect her. If there were still feminist groups around, they would probably bitch slap Sparrow for her thoughts, but she had been alone since everything happened, and despite the fact she had been with small groups at some points during all of this, she had always been fighting for herself.

  They continued to move through the brush, and it was clear Mason had seen something before she had. In the car sat an infected female. She was motionless aside from the twitch in her fingers every once in a while. Most of the time they just roamed around aimlessly, but Sparrow had seen some of the sick in an almost dormant stage, where they weren’t sleeping, but staring off and in an almost inanimate state. She didn’t know if that was what happened when they didn’t eat, or if that was their version of sleep, but she had never engaged them to find out. Mason stepped on a twig, and although it was small the crack of it echoed all around them and had the three of them instantly stilling. They were hidden behind the thick trunk of a tree, but could see the infected turn her head in their direction. For a solid minute all she did was move her head back and forth, most likely trying to see any kind of movement. But none of them breathed as they looked around to make sure there were no others hidden nearby.

  The female crawled out of the car, the once white dress she wore covered in rust colored stains, holes, and dirt. Her blonde hair was missing in chunks on her head, and the stringy strands stuck to parts of her face. She wasn’t so badly decomposed that her flesh hung from her bones and the necrotic tissue started to take over. Sparrow had seen different stages of the infected, ones who looked like they had crawled out of their coffins they were so badly decomposed, but then for whatever reason others took forever to die, figuratively speaking.

  “Stay here with her.” Mason moved his hand away from the gun at the small of his back and grabbed his hunting knife that was strapped to his outer thigh in the same fashion Asher’s was. Asher still had his hand on her waist, and Sparrow couldn’t help the small tingle that warmed at the point of contact. Mason started moving closer to the female, who now had her back to him as she looked off into the opposite line of trees. He was stealthy and ultra-quiet as he moved closer and closer to her.

  “We should go with him.” Asher tightened his hold on her and turned to look over his shoulder. His blue eyes held hers, and she swallowed at the intensity of them.

  “It’s okay. Mason’s got this.” He smiled and turned back to watch Mason stop at the edge of the tree line. They should have just kept moving. She never engaged in the sick, even if it was just one, but clearly Mason and Asher wanted to take them down. Another twig snapped beneath Mason’s foot, and the female turned around. Her mouth opened in a low, moan, and immediately black, congealed blood oozed out. She moved closer to him, dragging one of her legs behind her, which Sparrow just now realized was broken and twisted at an odd angle. How the female even managed to stand upright was beyond her. In a swift move Mason was before the female and had his knife raised high. He plunged the blade into the side of its neck, causing the infected to gurgle out a ghastly sound. He pulled the knife out and stabbed it in the eye, and the infected fell to the ground. After he pulled his blade out of its eye he wiped it clean on her dress. But before he could make a step toward them another one came from out of the trees across from them. This one had his arms out in front of him, and green and black goo coming from its eyes.

  Sparrow
had her weapon in her hand, a thick steel pipe that did a lot of good when brought across the heads of the sick, but before she could move Asher tightened his hold on her. “He’s got it, Sparrow. You’ll just distract him running out there.”

  And Asher was right. Right when she thought the walking corpse would have grabbed Mason, he had him on the ground and his blade buried right in one of those nasty, dead eye sockets. Mason pulled it out and wiped his blade clean once more, turned and scanned the area, and then came back to them. He stared at her for a moment, before grunting something out to Asher.

  “Come on, let’s see if there is anything useful in the car. Just stay behind me and close.” He tried to take hold of her hand, but she took a step back. He stopped, which had Mason doing the same. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she looked between the two of them. Mason had that perpetual scowl on his face, as if her stopping them was wasting their time. “I just want you guys to know I can handle myself. You don’t have to watch over me like I’ll break.” She held up her weapon. “I’ve killed plenty of them, and joining you means I want to help, not be a hindrance. I can hold my own with you guys, and carry my weight.” Mason grunted, and Asher sliced an irritated look at him.

  “We found you nearly getting eaten and clawed to death by one of those fuckers,” Mason said low with a hint of anger in his voice. “So excuse me if I’d rather you do what we say instead of getting in our way.”

  What. An. Ass. Sparrow tightened her hold on the pipe and glared at him. She had learned over time that keeping her mouth shut was for the best, but there were some things that just needed to be said.

  “If I am such a burden to you, which your attitude seems to claim, then why in the hell did you even ask me to join you?” Sparrow had never been one to speak her mind. She was perfectly content in doing what she wanted, and if someone didn’t like it they could go fuck themselves, but for the last few days of being in Mason’s company, seeing the glares and narrowed-eyed looks he gave her, and the overall icy disposition he wore like a damn chip on his shoulder, was pushing it. “I survived this whole time without you, and I certainly can manage it again.” He crossed his arms over his chest, but she would not let the sight of his raw masculinity sway her better judgment. He was an asshole, and all she had said was she wanted to help.