Rise of the Undead Box Set | Books 1-3 | Apocalypse Z

be, but I was at the clinic all day. If she did show up, she’d have been escorted to her mother’s house by one of the guards,” David said. “Is she a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly. I’m just curious, that’s all,” Dylan said, deciding not to tell him more for the moment. Who knew how much influence either Maddie or her mother had among the townspeople. It’d be better to steer clear of the crazed woman altogether, much though she’d have liked to see justice done.
A sudden wave of dizziness crashed over her, and she sagged against the doorframe. Ethan noticed and took a step closer. “You’re dead on your feet. Let me help you, please. I promise you’ll come to no harm.”
“You swear it?”
“I do.”
Too tired to argue further, Dylan gave in. “Alright, but no funny business. Once you’ve patched me up, I’ll be on my way. No questions asked.”
“Deal,” Ethan said, taking another tentative step forward. “Let me drive. That way, you can keep an eye on me at all times if it makes you feel any better.”
Dylan climbed into the car and slid over to the passenger side, making sure to keep her gun at the ready. “She’s all yours.”
With careful movements, Ethan followed, sliding behind the wheel and starting the engine. Before he drove off, he wrinkled his nose. “It smells like death in here.”
Dylan managed a laugh. “Death and zombies.”
“Something tells me there’s a story behind that,” he said.
“You could say so,” Dylan said, shifting around in her seat to get comfortable. “Maybe, I’ll even tell you one day.”
They approached the roadblock, and Ethan waved at the guards to let them through. A furious Ray stared at them before blasting off a volley of words at an older man, presumably his father, who stood next to him.
“Is that his dad?” Dylan asked, eyeing the square-shouldered, white-haired man with caution.
“That’s right. Let me talk to him for a second,” Ethan said.
“No! You can’t leave me here alone,” Dylan protested, acutely aware of the hostile looks being directed at her from all direction.
Ethan turned to her and placed one calming hand on her shoulder. “Dylan, please trust me. I won’t let anyone hurt you, but I have to diffuse the situation before it gets any worse.”
Something in Ethan’s gaze caused Dylan to pause in mid-panic, and her fluttering heart slowed to a steady beat. “You’ll look out for me? For real?”
Ethan nodded. “I’ve got you. I promise.”
Dylan sucked in a deep breath. “Alright.”
She watched with more than just a tinge of fear as he got out of the car, leaving her alone and exposed. He pulled Ray’s father off to the side, and they talked. It was an intense conversation with Ray interfering more than once. At last, after a sharp command from his dad, the boy skulked off to a corner. He was joined by two more guys, and the trio kept looking at Dylan in a manner that made her want to squirm in her seat.
Instead, she flashed Ray the middle-finger and kept an eye on them in the mirror with her gun in her lap. She had only four bullets left, but one of them would find a home in Ray’s skull if he so much as twitched in her direction. Finally, Ethan returned, his expression taut.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“He’s not happy with you pulling a gun on Ray, but I told him what the little prick said to you, so he gets it,” Ethan said. “Kind of.”
“What do you mean, kind of?”
“Forget about it. He won’t bother you. That’s the main thing.”
Dylan wasn’t a hundred percent happy with his explanation, but she decided to let it go. “Fine. Where to next?”
“I’m taking you to my practice to treat your wounds. After that, you’re free to leave anytime you want. I’ll even escort you out. Sound good?” Ethan asked.
“I guess so. It’s not like I have much of a choice,” Dylan answered.
The doctor drove off, and after a while, she tried to relax. The timer on her wrist was running down, each precious second another moment lost. Still, she wouldn’t get far injured as she was, and who knew what lay ahead. She had to be ready for anything — fighting fit.
When they reached his practice, she eyed the empty parking lot and lonesome sign with a dubious frown. “No sick townspeople today?”
“There are bound to be, but they’ll all be at the local clinic. I’ve been spending most of my time there since this all began,” Ethan said.
“Why?”
“There are two assistant nurses, a veterinarian, and a few volunteers to help. We decided to pool our resources since the outbreak began,” he said.
“Smart. Was it your idea?” Dylan said.
He laughed. “It was. We needed a central place where people could get treated quickly, and that was it.”
“Like I said. Smart.”
With a grunt of pain, Dylan levered her aching body out of the car and followed Ethan up the steps to the front door. He unlocked and led her through the empty waiting room, pausing only to switch on the lights.
He turned to her with an appraising look, taking in her bloodied clothes and matted hair. “Would you like to take a shower? I have a full bathroom in the back that you can use. I might even be able to scrounge up some fresh clothes for you.”
“Clothes?”
“You’d be surprised what the receptionists have left behind over the years.”
Dylan hesitated and glanced at the watch on her wrist, but the thought of a hot shower was impossible to resist. “I’d love to. Thanks.”
She waited while he rummaged around in a closet at the back. With a yell of triumph, he produced a t-shirt and a jersey which looked close to her size. He rounded it off with a pair of socks and a scarf. “Here you go. I’ll make some coffee while you wash up. There are soap and towels inside the bathroom. Enjoy.”
Dylan’s ears perked up at the mention of coffee, and