This is the End 2(675)

I had to assume the Zombies were the last part of the plan.

And I was right. When I reached the base of the bleachers, there was a small party of people waiting for me. I came to a stop as they stepped out of hiding and all eyed me with intense relief.

“You made it,” Vaughan breathed.

“I made it,” I smiled.

Beyond us, in the forest, we heard the static of walkie-talkies go off and as one, we stepped back in the shadows as more guards came running out of the woods.

A hand slipped into mine and the warmth and rightness I felt promised it was Hendrix. I looked up at him, into his dark eyes and shadowed face and just stared at his familiar outline.

Neither one of us said anything, but the hand clutching mine was both desperate and possessive, both needy and demanding. Tears flooded my eyes as I noticed the contrast between the disgust I felt for Kane and the pure safety I felt near Hendrix. He was my hope, my security, my future.

Kane was vile. And gone. Out of my life for good.

“We need to go,” Tyler snapped. “Now.”

And none of us hesitated. We just sprinted back through the woods, our feet fast but stumbling over the rough terrain. We didn’t encounter any guards, but only by luck and only by the genius plan to let the Zombies out.

They would notice we were gone in no time though and we needed to get as much space between us and them as possible.

By the time we were back on the familiar property of the farmhouse, my lungs and chest burned with the cool spring air and my legs were numb and exhausted. My hand had never left Hendrix’s and I was sure I would never leave his side again. Not when something that f-ed up could happen in the span of twenty-four hours.

Never did I want to feel like that again.

Never did I want a shower as much as I did right now.

Vaughan and Nelson burst into the house through the back door and Hendrix ordered Miller and Tyler to get in the minivan and sit in the captain’s chairs. I had no idea how we were all going to fit in a seven passenger van, but at this point we didn’t have a choice.

I moved to follow Nelson and grab my backpack and make sure everyone was coming when Hendrix pulled back on my hand and yanked me against him. I crashed into his chest with a force that knocked what little breath I had left out of me.

My arms went around his waist instantly though and he clutched me to him so tightly it was painful.

But I never wanted him to let go.

“I’m so happy you’re Ok,” he whispered into my ear. His hot breath floated against my skin and the sincerity of his voice plunged deep into my chest. “If they hurt you…. if they touched you-“

“They didn’t,” I assured him quickly. “I promise, they didn’t. I’m fine.”

And then there was movement again. Nelson came out of the house carrying a still sick Page and Haley was right behind him with my backpack and hers. Harrison and King followed with Nelson and Hendrix’s packs and a few bags I didn’t recognize. I hoped they were supplies. Vaughan was last and he ordered us all to get in the van.

The bags were haphazardly thrown in the trunk and then we squeezed in. Vaughan drove as usual, with Nelson in the front seat. Haley sat on the floor, her back pressed against the corner of Vaughan’s chair, with Page stretched out awkwardly in front of her. Past our new additions in the captain’s chairs, Harrison, King and Hendrix squeezed into the backseat and Hendrix pulled me onto his lap.

I curled up into him, relishing his warmth and savoring his touch. This felt right. This felt…. good. I needed his strong, protective arms around me more than anything else.

And while Vaughan drove away, leaving the farmhouse and that horrible town hopefully forever in our wake, I allowed myself to breathe again.

Only instead of the intense relief I wanted to feel, I felt the pinpricks and nauseous tingles of fear. I snuggled deeper into Hendrix, burying my face against the warmth of his skin and throwing my arms around his neck.

I took even breaths, keeping the panic attack at bay. But in my ears, Kane’s inhuman roar of outrage echoed loudly and in my head all I could hear was his promise to find me.

Real fear- the realest I’d ever felt- descended on me with a vice like grip and I began to tremble.

Hendrix’s soft words, whispered into my hair was the only thing that tethered me to sanity. “It’s over, Reagan. They’ll never touch you again. They’ll never see you again. You’re Ok. You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

Over and over he whispered promises into my ear, my heart, my soul. And slowly they seemed to make a difference. Eventually I stopped shaking, eventually I stopped panicking.

I was safe now.

I was with people that cared about me.