"Don't touch me!" Tashell raised her fist to punch him, but he caught her arm. She tried to swing her sword, but he was too close. He snatched her other hand and pushed her up against the door. Tashell struggled. She felt trapped, another thing that brought back those terrible memories. She pulled back her head and headbutted him. Her forehead came in contact with his lip.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" He screeched as he let go of her. "You can't go out there, because the zombies smelt us, and now they are at the door." He felt his lip that was now a bloodied mess. He sucked on the blood as he stood firm and scrutinised her. He realised that she might be one of the strays that Birdeyes mentioned. The sword, the attitude and the hostility. It made perfect sense.
"What? What you mean they smelt us?" Tashell questioned.
He wavered before he answered. "For some reason, we think they are evolving and at a fast rate too. Now they can sniff out the living, but only if the living is near them."
"That's not good."
"No, it's not. So with them at the door, your friend should be safe to enter the corridor now," he explained.
Tashell sighed. "You're right."
"Now tell me. What is a little lady like you doing in a zombie-infested place like this?" He asked. His icy blue eyes swirled with fascination as he peered down on Tashell's face.
He knew there must be more than the three Birdeyes told them about. There was no way this little lady was here without manpower.
Now he was on his guard. The scavengers had come back, and now they were working with women, but he couldn't accept that this little lady would be working with them by her own free will.
Tashell watched as his cheekbones flexed as he pondered about something. She thought he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. He smelled like gunpowder and musk. A scent that was driving her body insane. His left arm had the sexiest sleeve tattoo she had ever seen. "We — we've come here from another location. Our people need help," she told him without giving him too much information.
"I see. And where are your people located?" He asked as he touched his busted lip. Tashell now felt guilty.
"I'm sorry about your lip," she apologised. "But a girl's gotta be cautious, especially in these dark days."
"I understand. So aren't you sorry about my arm too?" He smirked. It was red and bleeding. Tashell felt even worse when she realised what she had done.
"Oh My God! Come with me, we should get that cleaned up. If you leave it like that it could scar. If you want, I can help you." She headed towards the bathroom.
"It's just a scratch. I've been wounded in worse ways at war."
"Just come with me," Tashell turned around and snatched his palm, dragging him to the bathroom.
He fought to catch his breath when her hand met his.
Her touch was as fine silk, sparking a fire in his soul. A touch so familiar, yet new. He stopped and Tashell spun around to see what the hold up was, only to see him staring longingly at their touching palms.
He wove his fingers in hers and brought them up to his lips. "What's your name?" His voice sounded deeper and his eyelids were hooded. Tashell's body trembled as the heat of his breath caressed her knuckles, sending welcoming goose pimples around her body. Her nipples pebbled as they peeked out behind her pink blouse. His dirty blonde hair swayed gently in the wind.
Tashell opened her mouth, but before she could answer, his radio interrupted.
"Silent Hawk calling for General Killshot."
"I'm here, Silent Hawk. Over."
"Where are you? I'm heading back to the suite. The first and second floor is clear. Over."
"That's good. I'm stuck in room 307. There's a bunch of Z's gathered at the door. Over."
"I'm out of ammo, but I will see what I can do. Over."
"Ok. Just be careful Silent Hawk and oh, I have a woman with me. Over."
"I didn't get that, General Killshot. Did you say a woman? But I checked the floors myself, there were no survivors."
"I know. She came here just now. She's one of the strays Birdeyes warned us about. There's one more over by the right staircase. Keep an eye out and Silent Hawk, be careful, I think the other one is even more hostile than this one if my memory serves right. Over."
"Ok General Killshot. But do we know these people? Over."
"I think so. Just don't hurt them. Over."
"Silent Hawk out."
"So you are one of the men from the radio?" Tashell asked. "But, what do you mean you think you know us?"
"What radio?" He asked, then his hand went to his arm. This was the perfect opportunity to deflect her second question.
"Please, just let me clean your wound and if you're scared I'll hurt you, I won't."
Her beautiful brown eyes were so enchanting. He let her lead him into the bathroom.
She grabbed a clean rag, and she damped it with cold water. "This may sting a bit," she whispered. She applied the cloth to his cut and the mountain of muscles didn't even flinch. Her eyes held his gaze as she applied pressure to the cut.
"As I said, little lady, I've been dealt more terrible blows in Iraq," he chuckled.
He saw her throat working to swallow. He could tell he affected her in some way. At first, he thought she was apprehensive about being in such close proximity with a stranger, but then his eyes plummeted to her chest, and lo and behold her nipples were waving furiously at him. He giggled internally, those weren't there two minutes ago.
"The wound isn't deep, so no need for stitches. You should start to scab in a day or two," she declared. "Now let me see your lip." Even though she was in heels, she had to tilt her head to meet his lips. He was a tall fellow at 6'6. Tashell merely 5'2.
A portion of her hair fell over the front of her shoulder, hiding her left eye.
Without thinking, Killshot's fingers moved to scrape the strands from her eye. "You should fix your ponytail," he whispered.
Tashell's eyes trailed up to his. She thought it was one of his most captivating features. They were an icy cerulean blue, sharper than a dagger. She could detect the sense of longing in them.
She cleared her throat as she finished dressing his lip. "I would if I didn't lose my hair tie."
"I can fix it for you," he asserted. Tashell looked at him strangely, it was then she realised the sexy scar over his eye, a battle wound she thought to herself.
"Do they teach hairdressing in the military now?" She laughed. "But I'm curious to see your talents." She turned around, her back to him and her face to the mirror. "Try anything funny and I'll floor you."
He chuckled.
Killshot removed a beautiful necklace from around his neck, along with the pendant there was a beautiful ribbon, with purple and pink flowers on it. He removed the ribbon and tied her hair with it, just like he did when they were kids.
Tashell ran her hand over the finished product. "Hmm, not bad for an army buff," she praised.
He ran his hand over her ponytail, tracing his fingers all the way to the tip where it met her waist. "A simple thank you would have sufficed."
She captured his eyes in the mirror. "Thank you," she smiled and his heart melted. He nodded as he mumbled you're welcomed.
And at that moment as the moon replaced the sun in the sky, there was no doubt in his mind that It was her, all grown up. She was even more beautiful than he had imagined.
He sighed as she placed his hand on her shoulder, making certain she wasn't a mirage.
His heart fluttered. She was really here, his favourite memory — His Ribbon.