Chapter 27: Hold on

Mitch still held May in a protective stance. He stiffly raised his head and stared at the pile of zombies outside, stacked on top of one another like they were playing on a slide. His mouth opened and closed.

"I—fuck."

Jack’s eyes, wide as copper bells, were filled with pure, unfiltered confusion that no amount of knowledge could explain.

"It... it just fell by itself?"

"What’s that pink stuff?"

Alex sniffed the air. The thick, cloying strawberry scent made his expression turn extremely complicated.

Ray was the first to snap out of it. He looked at the Tyrant, a flash of decisive killing intent crossing those cold eyes.

"Now."

With a low roar, he shot forward like a shell from a cannon, charging straight across the slick patch. His feet slipped too, but the lubricant didn’t seem to affect humans nearly as badly. After a few sliding steps, he was already right in front of the beast.

The Tyrant was still struggling, yet the ground was so slippery that the harder it pushed, the wider its legs spread. Ray didn’t hesitate for a second. His combat knife drove hard into one of the Tyrant’s enormous eyes—wide open from pain.

Pfft—

A heavy, wet sound. The massive body shuddered violently, then went completely still.

"What the hell are you still standing around for?" Ray yanked the knife free and spun toward the still-dazed brothers. "Clear the area!"

Jack jolted as if waking from a dream. He grabbed a gun that had fallen outside, eyed the slick patch underfoot, hesitated for a second, then charged out the same way Ray had. The others snapped back to reality at once. What should have been a near-suicidal bloodbath turned into a one-sided, almost comical slaughter.

***

Half an hour later.

The plaza held nothing left that could still move—only the completely wrecked heavy truck and scattered debris.

The men who had just escaped death now reeked of that sticky, sweet strawberry scent that refused to wash off. Every face carried an expression too complicated for words. All of their gazes settled on the small figure squatting on the ground, pale-faced and looking ready to collapse at any moment.

May still held the empty, flattened pink plastic bottle in her hand.

"So..." Mitch wiped a mix of blood and mysterious pink liquid from his face and looked at her, struggling to form the words. "That just now... that was you?"

May nodded guiltily.

"What the hell was that stuff?" Jack crowded closer, pure curiosity written all over his face.

May glanced at the "ultimate weapon" in her hand, then at the group of men staring at her with thirsty, knowledge-hungry eyes. Her mind raced. Inspiration struck. She lifted the bottle and spoke in the softest, most innocent tone she could manage.

"It’s... hand sanitizer. I was so scared my palms were all sweaty, so I just wanted to squeeze some out and wash my hands. Who knew it would... just..."

Hand sanitizer?

The grown men exchanged suspicious looks.

"What brand of sanitizer is that slippery? And where’d you even find it? The amount’s way too much, isn’t it?"

Mitch looked completely unconvinced.

"It says so right here," May pointed at the letters on the bottle that she herself couldn’t read. "Warm, soothing, smooth all the way."

Theo walked over, took the bottle from her hands, and examined it carefully for a moment.

"The packaging clearly states it effectively reduces..." He read the fine print, a thoughtful glint flashing behind his glasses. "Main ingredients are polymers and... strawberry essence?"

"For marital... fuck..."

"Mm..."

"..."

The air froze solid once again.

"I mean... it’s not completely impossible. Zombies exist now, so finding something like this in a supermarket isn’t that strange. Just weird that it happened to be this particular brand."

May wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and crawl into it right then and there.

[Fuck your entire family, Red Lace! If you’re going to sponsor something, why write it so damn clearly? Afraid people won’t know what it’s for?!]

"Ahem."

In the end, it was Ray’s dry cough that broke the deathly awkward silence. He glanced at the truck that had been reduced to pure scrap metal and spoke in a low voice.

"Truck’s gone. We rest here tonight and set out on foot at first light."

The harsh reality settled heavily over everyone.

They cleared out a warehouse on the second floor of the supermarket as a temporary shelter. Between the torment of her period and the earlier terror, May’s stamina had completely bottomed out. Her face was paper-white and she could barely walk without swaying.

Ray told her to sit and rest while the men started packing supplies and planning the route.

It didn’t take long before she couldn’t hold on anymore. She curled up in a corner, the dragging pain in her lower abdomen growing sharper with every wave until cold sweat beaded on her skin.

"I... I can’t walk anymore..."

Her voice was as soft as a mosquito’s hum, yet in the quiet warehouse it reached every ear clearly.

The busy men all paused at the same time. They turned and looked at the tiny figure huddled in on herself, ready to faint at any second. Every brow furrowed. ℯ

"May, does it hurt again?"

Alex was the first to rush over. He crouched in front of her, those wide, innocent puppy eyes full of worry.

"I’ll carry you. I’m young and fast—I promise I won’t drop you."

He actually turned around and half-squatted, clearly waiting for her to climb on.

"Get lost."

Mitch kicked a nearby shelf hard enough to send a harsh clang through the room. He strode over, shoved Alex aside, and started cursing under his breath.

"That skinny frame of yours would blow over in a breeze and you want to carry someone? What if you drop her?"

His mouth was vicious, yet he planted himself right in front of May. He didn’t crouch, but the meaning was already obvious.

"I’ll do it."

Jack pushed forward with his deep, rumbling voice and patted his back—twice as wide as anyone else’s. "May, I’m steady."

A full-scale war over "who gets to carry the wife" was about to explode.

Ray walked over from the other end of the warehouse carrying a bag of canned food. He said nothing. He simply dropped the bag on the floor, then dropped to one knee in front of May without a word.

"Get on."

The man’s voice was low and rough, carrying an order that left no room for argument.

May stared at that broad expanse of combat uniform, already darkened with sweat in places. Her heart skipped a beat. After a moment’s hesitation she climbed on.

His back was wide and hard—like a sheet of iron heated until it burned. The instant her soft body settled against him she felt the man beneath her go completely rigid for a second.

"Hold on tight."

Ray spoke once, then stood. His arms reached back and locked securely under her legs.

May clung to him like a koala, perfectly balanced. With every step he took her body rose and fell against him. The soft curves of her chest pressed repeatedly, without any barrier, into the iron-hard muscles of his back.

Her face flared crimson in an instant.

She could feel it—his footsteps seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Every step looked like it cost him every ounce of strength he had. Sweat kept beading at his temples and sliding down the hard line of his jaw.

Boss... are you a little... out of shape? That doesn’t make sense. With a build like yours, carrying me should feel like carrying a baby chick. Why are you sweating so much?

She leaned close to his ear and asked softly, a hint of genuine concern in her voice.

"Hey, are you really tired? Maybe... put me down and I’ll walk myself."

Ray didn’t answer. He only tightened the arms supporting her legs even further.

"Shut up and hold on tight."