The Girl Who Kissed the Sun (Death Fields 4)

He leans forward and kisses me softly. “Five minutes.”

The kiss intensifies and I sink into the moment, feeling the weight of this man and all the emotion we’ve carried for months and over miles. It’s the kind of kiss that clings to a sliver of hope when we’re surrounded by nothing but fear and death. I never dreamed of a kiss like this as a girl. I never knew it existed. Such desperation and so much hunger. Wyatt Faraday makes me feel, which is like fuel to my soul.

Any nagging questions or worries or questions get lost in the way his hands bunch the hem of my shirt and the consuming warmth of his lips. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about this life, it is to bask in the sun while I can. Darkness and all the bad stuff that comes with it is never far away.

Chapter 19

Wyatt carries me down the stairs, stopping once to press my back against the plaster walls and kisses me breathless. Then, like that, we’re in the living room with the others and he deposits me with little fanfare on the couch. I rest my foot on the ottoman. He sits on the fireplace hearth. Game face on.

The shift is understandable. Down here is work. Upstairs, pleasure. I have no doubt whatever exists between us isn’t concrete. What in this world is? I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. There’s a shelf-life to everything including relationships. You have to take what you can, when you can. I’m running the entire scene from upstairs in my head when the cushion next to me sinks as Jane sits down.

“Can you move over a bit?” Jane asks.

“Huh?”

“Move over, Alex, I’m falling off over here.”

Wyatt fights a smile and I gather my wits.

“How’s Green?” I ask after shifting over to give her space.

“Sleeping. We moved him to a bed last night. He still has a fever but it seems manageable. I think he’ll be okay once the vaccine fights off the infection. How about you? How’s the ankle?” She touches my cheek with the back of her hand. I’m sure they’re red, but not with fever.

“I’m fine. Thank you for the medicine.”

She checks my injury, which has already started to bruise. “I really don’t think it’s a break. The swelling already looks better. A couple more days rest would be preferable.”

“Wouldn’t it?” She smiles at my joke. We both know I’m not getting a full two day’s rest.

The rest of our group settles into a circle and blankets are passed around and shared. It’s cold in here and it was decided no one had any interest in messing with a fire right now—not after the inferno last night. Finn and Mary huddle close together in a faded arm chair, looking more worn and shell-shocked than the day before. Walker stands and brings the group to attention.

“Wyatt, can you tell us what happened yesterday? Were those rocket launchers?” she asks Davis.

“Yeah those were awesome, right?” Jude replies.

“We left Savannah about a month ago,” Davis says. “We captured some horses from the Hybrids and it made the ride up here a lot easier. We didn’t have to worry about gas or getting through the stalled-out traffic jams. Most barns are still full of feed. The mountains and the snow slowed us down a little. By the time we got out of the Appalachians, we were beat.”

“I thought I had hypothermia. Like, I was pretty sure I was going to lose at least three toes,” Parker says from her spot on the floor. “Good thing Erwin gave Wyatt a list of people that could help when we needed it.”

“What kind of list?” Walker asks.

“Military bases. Fall-out shelters. People he knew all over the Northeast before the Crisis hit. Names, addresses, passcodes,” Wyatt explains. “We were in no-man’s land and a few days from starvation when I figured out the coordinates for a bunker just outside of West Virginia. It was disguised as a utility building, but in the basement we found a fully stocked bunker—just like the one at the Vaccine Center in South Carolina.”

“So they’re all over the place?” I ask, wondering how many we passed on our way up here.

“Yes, I guess it’s just a matter of the right person, with the right information, surviving long enough to use them,” Davis says. He’s sitting on a small wooden chair I’m convinced will snap under the pressure of his weight at any moment.

Wyatt says, “We spent a few days recovering—”

Parker snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s what Wyatt calls defrosting.”

“And,” Wyatt continues, “finding the closest armory. Our ammo was low and we were headed toward civilization. Erwin listed a National Guard post a couple hours from here. It was still manned—mostly with a skeleton crew—but they gave us what we needed, as well as a bit of local information.”

Jude, who has been so quiet I thought he may be asleep, chimes in, “They told us there was a small community to the west that had the vaccine and that they were planning on taking them, once the roads melted.”

That little detail caught all of our attention.

Walker asks first. “What community and how did they hear this?”