Free Until the End by Tracey Ward Page A

up. Just go. Now.”
    I don’t question it because, frankly, there’s no time. Any questions risk his life, so I toss in our packs, hop in the boat and turn to sit so I’m facing the shore, my bow at the ready.
    “I’m in.” I say, just loud enough that I hope he hears me. “I have her sighted. Turn left and run.”
    “Yours or mine?” he calls back.
    The girl is rising to her knees.
    “They’re the same left. Stage right.”
    “What the hell is stage right?” His voice is rising and so is the girl. She’s almost to her feet and I can see movement in the trees in my peripheral.
    Time’s up.
    “Go, Jordan!” I cry, and pray he goes to the freakin’ left, otherwise I’ll end up shooting him in the chest instead of her.
    He pivots left and runs like hell toward the water. I’ve started drifting a little bit and there’s a wind, but I’ve got it under control. As the girl lunges, I put some extra force behind the arrow and let it go. It sails through the air and hits a little more to the right than I wanted but it finds a home and stays there. It pierces her breastplate and I’m hoping it finds her heart, but I’m not choosy at the moment. I’m also hoping my assumption is right and her ability to still feel sensations, such as cold water and pain, will slow her down enough to get Jordan clear.
    Luck is with us. I might not have hit her heart, but an arrow in your chest still hurts like a bastard and she goes down hard, screaming wildly. I’ve lost an arrow and that sucks, but as the swarm of fifteen or so zombies comes into the clearing and Jordan hits the water running, I’m thinking we made out alright. He has to swim a short ways to get to the boat and when he hoists himself inside he’s a sopping wet, trembling mess. I don’t know how much is from adrenaline and how much is from the cold but it all worries me.
    “Are you okay?” I ask, reaching for him.
    He nods quickly and brushes my hands away. “Get us out of here.”
    “You got it.” I say briskly, and instead of using the oars I pull hard on the string on the motor like it’s a lawnmower and it springs to life. I don’t know what we were saving her for but I think now is a good time to use the horsepower and put some distance between us and the park. Jordan doesn’t say anything against it.
    “That was close!” he shouts over the sound of the engine and the wind rushing up the river right into us.
    “Too close!” I shout back. “What were you doing standing still like that!? Did you freeze up?!”
    He shakes his head. “You couldn’t feel it?!”
    I scowl. “Feel what?!”
    “Her! I don’t know what to call it other than survival instinct, but when she puked on me, everything in me said to keep still. No sudden movements!”
    I nod in understanding. “I had the thought that she looked like a tiger ready to pounce. Then she freakin’ sniffed you!”
    “I know!” he cries, and we know we’re not yelling out of necessity now. He has a small smile on his face and I can feel one on mine too. It seems an odd time to be grinning like idiots, but it’s the thrill of surviving. It makes you giddy.
    We cruise upriver for a while making great time compared to rowing, but eventually Jordan makes the cut it sign across his neck and I kill the engine.
    “Let’s save what gas we’ve got in there. The tank isn’t very big.”
    I think it’s worth burning it and finding more when we need it, but I don’t argue the point. The boat coasts forward for a short distance on residual momentum and then we’re at the current’s mercy again. I turn to start rowing but Jordan stops me.
    “I’m frozen solid. It’ll help me warm up.”
    “About that. We need to get you into dry clothes. And get sunscreen. And chapstick and a toothbrush and more water.”
    He’s grinning at me as I make our shopping list and I stop.
    “No,” he says brightly. “Keep going.”
    “It’s time to loot.” I reply seriously.
    He sighs and rubs a hand