Hollow Men Page 3

  Evan nodded and again, a dark figure—a man, I saw—darted around the side of my house. He disappeared on screen before reappearing in the camera shot from the side porch.

  “That door?”

  “That door is reinforced. Wrought iron storm door inside the outer door.”

  “Hinges?” he asked, his eyes on the screen as the man tested the door.

  Seeing him touching my side door, seeing him moving around my home, made my stomach sick. Rage filled me, but I was upset to realize fear was close on its heels. “Hinges are inside. Both the main door and the storm door.”

  The man pressed his face to the small bit of glass on the side door. Barely big enough to look through—my father had replaced the original outer doors to our home with doors that had very little glass. Even if the man busted out the peep window as my dad had called it, he’d have to have been a magical type to fit through it. It was about the size of a deck of cards.

  “He’s persistent. But it’s not him who worries me…” Even frowned.

  “When did he show up and what the fuck does he want?”

  Evan pointed to the camera shot angled out to the street fire. “He was a part of them. They all wandered off a while ago, but then a hollow showed up. It’s all I can assume anyway. There’s no sound on this thing. But the guy was grinning, and his head was tilted back. I assume it was the laughter we’ve all heard, or the whimpering. Anyway, mountain guy out here decided to stalk the hollow. I think he killed him, but off screen because he came back with a bloody knife and a satisfied look. But…he was close to your house and up close, it doesn’t look as empty as the others.”

  My first thought was my elderly neighbors. Had this joker hurt them? “Humans are worse than infected,” I snarled. Anger was all I could feel. “They come and figure we’re all living in a state of Darwinism. Survival of the fittest. No common fucking decency anymore. If it’s out there and you have it, and I’m stronger I should take it from you—”

  Evan grabbed my wrist and tugged me down toward him. I had no choice but to sit or fall. He plopped me on his lap and took my hand. “You’re right, El,” he whispered. “But you need to take a big, deep breath and calm down.”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Just be quiet.” He kissed me. I thought about backing up or reminding him we’d just had a little physical connection last night, nothing more, nothing less. But to be honest, his mouth on mine felt too nice. As did his hands settled on my hip and the heat of his body. Someone was poking around my home, and I was not alone. Not. Alone. That was both terrifying and comforting.

  “Let’s just see what he does.” I whispered.

  We watched him. The man left the side door and moved around to the cellar door. It was the old-fashioned kind that was partially sunk into the ground. The door opened up on an angle to reveal a stairwell. Down the stairwell was a door and an inner door mirroring the upstairs. All secure. I wasn’t really worried about him getting in. I was worried about what he wanted. What he thought he was going to get.

  “And that door’s…”

  “About fifteen feet outside this room,” I told him.

  The guy gave up easily. Maybe he was starting to realize the house was sealed up tight. Even the second story windows were secured. My dad believed in security with a backup of security with a backup plan of more security. And he’d trained me to be the same way.

  “Here he goes,” Evan said. I felt his hands tighten on me in suspense as if we were watching a movie. I wiggled in his lap without thinking. I was feeling antsy, so I moved, but he made a noise that told me maybe, just maybe, I should stay still.

  We watched the man go out and inspect Evan’s van. It was big and black and had only porthole windows in the back. He tried all the doors and tried to peek inside, but the windows were tinted.

  “If he gets your van—”

  Evan cut me off. “At least he’s away from the house. If he gets the van, I’ll figure something else out. I can get another to get me up to New England. I’ll be fine.”

  One big arm looped around my middle, and I was glad for it. It made me feel more tethered to earth, that arm of his. How quickly his touch recalled sense memory from when we were together. He used to grab me around the middle that way and haul me in. Sometimes playfully, sometimes rough-housing, sometimes as a prelude to phenomenal sex. All of them were good memories. My nipples stiffened despite the current situation. My body was reacting to Evan whether I liked it or not.

  The guy stepped back from the van, shielded his eyes from the morning sun. Oddly enough, we saw it happen. That moment when he took note and his eyes, just black dots from our perspective, locked on the camera.

  A shiver traveled up my spine, and I had a sinking feeling. But then he turned and walked away. A few more feet and he climbed into a beat-up pickup and off he went.

  “Fuck,” I sighed. My body was taut with adrenaline. My heart pounding. When the man had stared right at the camera, it felt as if he’d been looking right at me. As if he could see us.

  I stood quickly, though my legs felt as if they were made of wet paper bags. Then I stumbled to the bathroom and pushed my head under a cold running tap. I brushed my teeth and stuck my head under again, my shoulder-length black hair swirling around my face in the sink. I could just take a shower, but I needed immediate relief. The tap water was freezing cold.

  I stood, dripping water. Evan handed me a small towel, and I scrubbed my cheeks, wrung out my hair.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I stared at him, my heart still beating too fast. My blood felt thick and anxiety crawled in my gut as if it were a living thing. I shook my head. “No.”

  Then I grabbed his face and kissed him hard.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “Shh,” I said. “Just…shh.”

  He pulled back and stared at me. His eyes the color of a lake beneath a stormy sky. Between my legs, I went wet and frantic. More anxiety inched through me, stunning my spirit.

  “Eleanor—”

  “Please…Evan. Please,” I said.

  I could tell he wanted to say more. Could tell he wanted to ask questions. I was pretty much requesting he let me use him. But he cared for me—always had—and he nodded once in brief consent then shoved me to the small bathroom wall. He pushed his big body against mine, pinning me, trapping me—exactly what I needed. He kissed me roughly and tugged my hair, and a gasp ripped out of me with his bit of force.

  “Ev—” I growled, wrapping my leg around his waist.

  There was no romance or foreplay. He shoved my leggings down, his mouth never stopping on my skin—my lips, my jaw, my cheekbones and collarbone. Where his lips did not touch, his teeth dragged. My nipples spiked almost painfully; goose bumps blossomed on my arms. Evan bit the hard knot of my nipple, sucked once and plunged a finger into me.

  I gasped. Thrusting my hips forward to allow him more depth, I shut my eyes to block out everything but the feel of his hands on me. My fingers fumbled over his belt buckle, and he batted my hand away, doing in seconds what I couldn’t manage to do. I opened my eyes to see him haul is cock out, give it two brisk strokes, squeezing way harder than I’d ever imagine squeezing him if my hands were wrapped around him.

  I smiled, but the smile fled when he yanked my thigh up and draped my knee over his forearm. He found the drenched center of me and slid the head of his cock along the wetness there. Then, eyes locked with mine, mouth drawn into a taut line, he plunged into me.

  Intimacy. It was something I’d forgotten. Had he been looking down or away or had his eyes closed I could have handled that moment. But he wasn’t, he was looking me dead in the eye, and the intimacy hit me as if it were a big rig. I was felled with it, my braced knee feeling weak and saggy. But he yanked me closer as he drove into me, using the wall to support me even as he fucked me.

  “It’s okay, El, I’ve got you,” he whispered. He grinned at me and a small shard of my h
eart broke. “I’ve got you.”

  I should’ve been terrified enough of his words to disengage. Should’ve dreaded the comfort I found in them. Instead, the instant anxiety they spurred only pushed my lust higher. I gave into the fear I felt, fear that had nothing to do with freshly created hollows, or dangerous humans who wanted to do nothing but take and destroy to make themselves stronger. Fear that simply had to do with connection, because connection often ended in loss. More often than not actually.

  I put my head back to the wall and let myself be noisy for just a heartbeat. I came with a cry I was sure could get us in trouble were anyone outside to hear it.

  “Hush, Eleanor,” he growled and kissed me, smothering my noises with his lips.

  His free hand came down, strong and heavy, on my hips, and he pinned me where he needed me. With his other hand, he yanked my thigh a bit higher, parting my body for his intrusion. Every thrust stole my breath. Every bang of his pubic bone to my clit slammed a tremor of pleasure through me.

  “I might—”

  He shook his head, staring at me. “I know. I can feel it. You’re—” He stopped there, leaning back to watch where his body entered mine. I couldn’t see it, but watching his face, seeing how it got him off to spy where we were joined, made my breath come faster.

  “I’m what?” I thrust up just a bit and watched his face. God, he was beautiful. Stubble shaded his handsome face and his eyes had grown a shade darker from arousal.

  “So fucking tight.”

  He pushed my hip more forcefully to the wall, leaned in, stretching my bent leg enough to rival any difficult yoga class. I groaned and almost laughed, but he’d moved to kiss me, and his tongue stroked over mine, his thrusting grew more frantic. No rhythm anymore—just need.

  When he growled out his peak, I was right there with him. A fluttery, soft, but bright yellow orgasm filled my pelvis, and I laughed softly. “Yellow,” I whispered before I could catch myself.

  We untangled but he kept me pushed to the wall, his lips to my forehead. His arms around me. I allowed myself to enjoy it. Just for a minute…

  “So your orgasms still have colors?”

  I grinned. “Yeah. Crazy I know…”

  “Not crazy. Magic.”

  He sensed my restlessness and stepped back to give me air. I suddenly felt shy.

  “I’m gonna—” I pointed to the shower stall. “If I go can you watch, then when I get out, I’ll watch while you shower?”

  He nodded, his face growing grim. For a little bit, we’d forgotten about the prowling man. But now we remembered. If there was one nosy man, there could be more. Best to be aware of what was going on at all times until it could be dealt with.

  If it could be dealt with.

  Chapter Four

  “Anything?” I rubbed a towel along my hair and considered once again cutting it all off. I’d often wanted a pixie cut and nowadays—times when very few people gave a shit what your hair looked like—it would make my life so much easier. People only cared about fashion and such up where the bigger compounds were. Where life was a bit more normal.

  But here in Overmount where it was starting to resemble a warzone more and more every day, not so much.

  “Just this joker,” Evan said, pointing to a single man wandering aimlessly up and down the road.

  There was no sound with the cameras, but I didn’t need it. I could see his chest fluttering as he tucked his chin and kept his head down. Whimpering.

  “A hollow man,” I sighed.

  “I don’t get the man thing,” Evan snorted.

  “At first it showed in men. Mostly because you guys have always been such meat-aholics. The hollow was basically the eating. Eating everything as if they were hollow. Including…” I let the sentence trail off.

  “Speaking of meat, man, I could go for some.”

  I laughed. “I have meat. Canned meat. You still in?”

  He shook his head and watched the guy, who sort of ping-ponged off of random objects—Evan’s van, a dresser someone had put by the road for some reason, a stop sign. “Later. I’m gonna take my shower now. You okay to watch?”

  “I’m good. I’ve been here all alone all this time, after all.”

  It was a bitchy comment. I could feel it as I said it. As if he were underfoot or intruding in my life. My urge to crawl into his bed last night and my following of said urge, coupled with the encounter in the bathroom where he’d read me as if I were a book, had me full of trepidation. It was as if I had to remind Evan I didn’t need him. That he was on my turf, and I could change that at any moment.

  His eyes widened for just a split second before he looked away, gave a brisk nod and said, “Of course. I won’t be but a minute.”

  I handed him a towel. “Take your time,” I said. I had softened my voice, sorry for my flippant words. It was too late. I’d done the damage.

  “I won’t be but a minute,” he repeated. I chewed my lip as he shut the door. Willing myself to go ahead and knock and apologize. But then, our neighborhood visitor was back on screen wandering through my front yard and distracting me.

  I dropped into the chair, still wrapped in a towel and watched him stagger toward Mrs. Delaney’s house. That made me hold my breath. I wasn’t worried so much about me—at least not yet. But my older neighbors, yes.

  He hadn’t lied. He’d only been a minute.

  “Everything okay?” He touched my shoulder briefly. Maybe I was forgiven for my harsh words. I hoped so.

  “Yeah, but I want to get dressed and check on my neighbors. Maybe see what’s going on out there.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “I’d rather you stay in here and protect the fort,” I said, making it clear this time we were in this together.

  I’d gotten scared. I’d been sharp. Now I wanted to fix that some.

  “From what?”

  “Am I the only one who has a feeling that joker’s coming back? The one in the truck?”

  “No,” Evan said, frowning. “You’re not the only one.”

  My stomach tumbled with nervous energy though I’d expected those words from him. “See, I’d feel better if someone is here. And she doesn’t know you. So she won’t open the door. Plus, I want to shoot over and check on Mrs. Riggs, too. Haven’t seen either in a few days and given they’re older ladies, I like to check in. You know the county system only does so much for the elderly.”

  “Resources are limited,” he mumbled. “Half the population gets it in their head to try and eat the other half on any given day.”

  “Right.” I dropped the towel I’d been wearing while I watched the cameras. I needed to move away from the conversation and toward action. Action I could handle, examining the current state of our world, I could not. I felt his eyes on me, traveling the length of my thigh, up my side, my throat…it was as if being touched by a warm hand. My nipples grew rigid and deep inside I grew wet.

  I turned my back to him and pulled on fresh jeans and a navy blue top. Time to focus on what was going on and not the need in my nethers. I laughed softly.

  “What?” he asked. I could tell he was still watching me. Gauging me.

  “Nothing. Just a little giddy, I guess. More action in these last two days than in the last two weeks.”

  He grimaced, watching the now blank screen. “Sorry.”

  I hesitated but then put my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be. You were the only good surprise.”

  The look he gave me told me I’d finally made up for my earlier harshness. “Now I’m going to put on my shit-kicking boots, get my gun and go check on the ladies.”

  “And I’ll sit here and watch the place. Even though it’s going to drive me ape shit.” He grinned at me, and I had to suppress the urge to kiss him. There was no time for that right now.

  * * * *

  I brought the flare gun for two reasons. One I could use it as a regular gun. Hey, caustic chemicals melding into your skin would be a deterrent to pretty much anyone—huma
n or hollow. Secondly, if I fired it into the sky, it was something Evan could see on the black-and-white screens. The magnesium burned at over one thousand degrees so it appeared as hot white sparklers on the screen.

  Not that I actually thought Evan would be in the safe room. He’d be upstairs, watching out the window, waiting to see if he needed to leap into action.

  I walked softly across the dry brown grass. My neighborhood felt spooky. Since the infection, it always felt dangerous. Off. Unsafe. But now it felt surreal and creepy. As if things were waiting to pop out at me at any moment.

  My boots made barely any sound on Mrs. Delaney’s big painted wooden porch. I heard a soft bark from inside which meant Belvedere was still alive and kicking. The small, white Scottish Terrier was older now. Old enough that, no matter how much Mrs. Delaney bathed him, his white fur always appeared a bit dirty. It drove her nuts.

  I glanced around again, searching for human or hungry. To be honest, after watching the video feed, the living freaked me out more. I wasn’t keen on the fact that I’d gotten the interest of some shoot ‘em up good old boy looking to loot or infiltrate my home.

  I knocked again.

  Just when I was starting to get worried, she answered. “Sorry, darling. Sorry. I was in the little girl’s room.” She stepped back to let me in before darting her head out to look around. “You haven’t seen them today have you?”

  “Seen who?”

  “You know I have the insomnia,” Mrs. Delaney said, shooing me into the living room as she locked the screen door, shut and triple bolted the inner one.

  “Yes,” I said, smiling at her use of the. Some things just deserved the in front of them, my father had always said. The insomnia, the gout, the plague.

  “Well, a whole pack of them came wandering down the road last night. Whining and gibbering as if they were a bunch of lunatics.” She shivered. “Made my blood run cold to hear them. Made me thankful for those shutters you helped me install.”