“Keep a look out.” Devin swung his leg through the gap in the barbed wire. He took a moment to check the ladder was secure.

Kerry crouched down. With the section of the barbed wire cleared, there was room to stand on the three-foot thick wall. “Are you sure about this?” She looked past him and down at the crowded bodies.

“Better now while there’s not so many.” They couldn’t be complacent and let the number of freaks at the boundary grow more than it already had. It was essential for everyone’s safety to keep the numbers manageable.

Satisfied the ladder wasn’t going anywhere, Devin made his way down. He stopped at the bottom and examined the bowed fence. A growl and frantic movement drew his attention to the cluster of deformed faces. His presence had excited them. Driven by hunger, they clawed and pushed. He eyed the twisting wire mesh and wondered how much force this section could take.

“Okay?” he checked as Hank joined him on the ground.

“Yeah.” Hank drew a hunting knife. He glanced up at Kerry who had remained on the wall to keep watch. “Would much rather be up there though.”

“Call if you spot more approaching,” Devin told her.

Even though she was out of reach of the freaks, Kerry seemed unnerved. “Just hurry up.”

The monsters pushed forward as he and Hank got close. Devin covered his mouth as he was hit by the horrid stench of decomposing flesh. Most of the group had turned a while back. Their skin was pale and blistered. Blood covered their clothes, and there were open, festering wounds across their battered bodies.

Devin stood in front of one of the freaks. He raised his knife, clenching his fist as he realized his hand was shaking. “Damn.” He stared into the murky gray eyes of what had once been a young woman. What remained of her short dark hair, hung from her peeling scalp in matted clumps. She twitched her head from side to side and looped her fingers through the fence. A strange gurgled growl escaped from her throat as she pressed her teeth against the metal wire.

Get it done, you idiot.

Gripping the knife, he positioned the point of the blade at her forehead.

“Devin?”

Devin glanced at Hank. The man had already taken out two of the infected hosts. “Yeah.” If the fence hadn’t been between them, the woman would have shown no mercy, no hesitation. He’d already have been dead. Or worse. “Yeah.”

The barrier between him and them wasn’t ideal for hitting his mark, but with enough force, he could drive the knife into the skull of the rotted woman. Bracing himself, he stabbed the knife forward. The point hit bone. The freak let out a pained sound as the serrated blade found its mark. The body became deadweight and slumped forward. With a grunt, Devin pulled back, finding enough leverage to remove the weapon. The woman crumpled to the ground, slack-jawed and staring sightlessly at the sky.

Devin stared at her for a moment, her fall making way for the next freak to take her place. Unsettled, Devin blinked as he studied the awkward steps of the undead horror.

Please don’t be him.

His chest ached as he drew his gaze upward over the blue scrubs. He stopped at the infected male’s chest and stared at the torn pocket where an ID might once have been.

It can’t be him.

They were miles from where home had once been in Kansas City. Devin missed their apartment—their secondhand couch, the leaking tap, the floorboard that creaked at the end of the bed. He missed Connor. He lifted his head. His breath hitched, and he was filled with a mixture of relief and disappointment. It wasn’t Connor. It was never going to be Connor.

Devin secured his hold on his weapon and waited as the undead being made its way to the fence. It gave a throaty moan as it pressed its face to the wire mesh. Devin grimaced as its puffy skin split from the pressure. The freakish monster flicked out its dark tongue, running the engorged muscle over the metal. This might have been someone else’s lover, child, father, but not his.

Not Connor.

Devin slammed the blade into the freak’s face. The hilt of his weapon hit the monster’s cheekbone as his strike plunged into its eye socket. There was a disgusting sound, and moist, fleshy lumps clung to the grooves of the knife when he pulled back his arm. He watched the man impact the ground. The body twitched before falling still. He was dead for good this time.

With a renewed sense of mission, Devon proceeded along the line of undead. With each stab of the hunting knife, with every cracked skull and feel of metal piercing flesh, he was granted some release. The tension and frustration he had felt since the confrontation in the dining hall eased, if only a little. He felt more clearheaded. He felt as if he could breathe again.

The last of the lined-up monsters was standing at an odd angle. The damn thing kept moving as it sought for a way to get to its prey. Devin’s first attack bounced off the curved surface, slicing skin and hair. It wasn’t easy, but Devin managed to snare the freak’s clothing through one of the spaces in the wire mesh, tightening the collar of its shirt as he dragged it forward and pinned it to the fence. He looked to Hank who stepped up and slammed the spiked piece of metal he had used on the others into its face.

Devin let go, and watched the body slide down to its knees. He grimaced, studying the monster before kicking at the fence, pushing it away so it fell on its back.

“That all of them?” he said.

Hank stood beside him and examined the piled bodies.

Nothing was moving.

“Looks like it,” Hank said.

Devin held up his hand. Spatters of blood stained his skin and the cuff of his long-sleeved T-shirt. “We should move them now before the stink attracts more.” Devin crouched down and wiped his knife on the ground, cleaning what he could before sliding the blade back into the sheath strapped to his leg.

“I’ll do it. I’ll get Eddie to help me.” Hank folded his arms over his chest, muscles tensing beneath the short sleeves of his gray tee as he made fists. He stared toward the line of trees, beyond the open space of the visitor parking lot.

“You sure?”

Hank nodded. “It won’t take us long. Pack ‘em up and drive ‘em out of town.”

“Okay.” Devin glanced at the blood on his hands. He closed them when his fingers shook. It was as if he was on a comedown from the rush of adrenaline that had ignited in the pit of his stomach as he’d made the kills.

“Everything okay?” Kerry called down to them.

Devin took a last look at the corpses, then glanced over his shoulder, insisting, “We’re good.”

* * *

Noah curled his fingers over the side of the bed frame as he tried to distract himself. He bounced his knees up and down as he stared at the photograph pinned to the edge of the wooden shelf opposite him. Meeting his own eyes in the picture, he frowned. The picture was only from a couple of years ago, but he hardly recognized himself. His face had been fuller, his eyes brighter, and he had worn an easy smile. Now, when he caught sight of his reflection what he saw was gray and grim. With a sigh, he massaged the back of his neck, then tilted his head to scratch a path over the stubble along his jaw and under his chin.

He hated being the one left behind. Devin was out there somewhere and Noah had no idea if he was safe. Could something have happened at the fence? He dismissed the notion. Everything was fine. Devin wasn’t alone. He had Hank, and Hank, along with Kerry, was reliable, someone he could trust to have Devin’s back.

A knock startled him. “Come in.” He waited, relieved when Devin stepped into the room. “Hey. Did everything go okay?”

Devin nodded and pushed the door closed behind him. “We cleared the fence.” He looked uneasy. “For now at least.”

“Has something happened?”

Devin snorted softly. “Something always happens.” He glanced to the floor and sighed. “Ignore me.”

Noah studied Devin. There was something different. Something hung in the air between them. He didn’t say anything, hoping Devin would break the silence.

With a weary sound, Devin came to sit on the bed beside him. “Sorry I was gone so long. But it needed doing. Hank’s clearing the…” He paused and rubbed his hand over his neck. “Clearing the bodies.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Noah studied Devin’s face, but as always, he was left with more questions. Devin was good at hiding his feelings and played the role of stoic hero too damn well. Sometimes Noah just wanted to tear down the door Devin had locked his feelings behind and do anything he could to help him. It couldn’t be good for Devin to keep everything bottled up and Noah worried there was going to come a time when Devin hit his limit.

Devin lifted his head. He met Noah’s gaze and his expression softened. “I will be.”

Noah was taken by surprise when Devin leaned forward to kiss him. He held his breath as Devin initiated the contact, and didn’t dare move in case, like a deer, Devin was startled away.

“Okay?” Devin breathed the words onto Noah’s lips.

Okay? This was more than okay. This was what Noah had been waiting for, hoping for. Since Chicago and their night together, Noah had backed off, giving Devin the time and space he clearly needed. Devin was still grieving for his dead lover, for a man Noah couldn’t and shouldn’t replace so easily. There were other things too. It seemed their lives had been very different. From how their families had reacted to them coming out, to their life experiences, to the relationships they’d had and how they viewed love. Everything had seemed to come easy for Noah. He was accepted. He was only ever himself.

When Devin had found him at the farm, Noah had been alone for several months. Everyone he had loved, family, friends were all gone. He had been so desperate to hold onto Devin, to have someone worth fighting for again in this messed-up world. In a way, he knew his actions had been a little irrational, but he’d been so close to giving up. What point was there to surviving, to fighting, if he was alone? He had needed Devin. And what might have started out as some knee-jerk reaction to his situation had developed, though in a short amount of time, into something real. He cared about Devin, dared to even say he loved him. And just as Devin was now his reason for living, he hoped, one day, he might be Devin’s as well.

Noah’s reply was muted by another kiss. He closed his eyes, enjoying the tender moment. Devin pressed a hand to Noah’s face, gently stroking his cheek and neck as he applied more pressure to Noah’s mouth with his own. He noted the scent of soap on Devin’s skin, mixed with something earthy, like dirt, which left a bitter taste at the back of his throat. Devin ran his fingertips over the scratchy stubble along Noah’s jaw.

God, how Noah had wanted this, had waited for Devin to be ready. He didn’t know what had been the catalyst for Devin’s actions, and he wasn’t sure he cared. He took a long breath as Devin’s fingers went to the back of his head and tangled in his dark locks. He groaned into the kiss as Devin tugged at his hair, angling his mouth for firmer kisses. Devin seemed to test him, encouraging him into an open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues clashed in a claim of dominance from Devin. Heat swelled in Noah as he lifted his hips toward Devin’s welcome hand at his groin.

Devin pawed the front of Noah’s pants, uttering soft words in the breaks between kisses. He held Noah’s head steady with one hand, as he sought access to Noah’s clothes with his other. As Devin’s warm hand brushed Noah’s skin, it sent waves of desire through Noah, which shot straight to his dick.

“Fuck.” Noah was silenced with another kiss. He opened his eyes as his head was pulled back and his neck exposed.

Devin nuzzled kisses to Noah’s throat, sucked and grazed his teeth over Noah’s skin.

Noah’s breathing was uneven, his dick so damn hard it was almost painful. Devin encouraged him to lean back against the wall, creating space for Devin to move his hand. Anticipation left Noah’s body aching, and he was desperate for Devin to bring him some release.

“Devin,” Noah said in a hushed voice. He whimpered as Devin set about a series of firm strokes along the length of Noah’s dick. “Want you.” Devin kissed him again, covered his mouth, and stole his words of want and need.

Devin moved with a purpose, making long strokes along Noah’s erection, each time twisting his hand over the head, and swiping across the tip.

Noah reached up and pulled Devin to him. He held his face, whimpering into the kiss on every thrust of Devin’s hand until he could stand it no more. Open-mouthed, he pressed his forehead to Devin’s, his body twitching as he came hot and heavy. He thrust up into Devin’s hand, rode out his orgasm. Devin kissed him again, smothering his weak pleas of “no more” as he continued to apply pressure to Noah’s dick.

After a time, Devin stilled his hand then pulled away. He leaned forward and kept his back to Noah.

Noah winced as he sat up. His back was stiff from the strange angle of not wholly sitting or lying down. Wanting to keep Devin close, Noah pressed a kiss to his shoulder and reached down, prepared to offer the same release. He was surprised when Devin caught his wrist.

“No,” Devin said. His voice was almost a whisper. He sounded tired and defeated. “I don’t...” His features softened as he added in a gentle voice. “I’m good.”

With a nod, Noah leaned against Devin and ran his hand back and forth along the length of Devin’s spine as a way to offer comfort. As much as he had hoped it was all about him, he knew there must have been some other reason Devin had come to him.

“Sorry,” Devin said.

Noah pulled away to retrieve a washcloth from his pile of dirty laundry. He wiped himself down the best he could, then handed it to Devin.

After fastening his zipper, Noah settled back on the bed. He rested his chin on Devin’s shoulder, and watched him rub his hand roughly with the washcloth, as if he was trying to clean away more than just the mess of the moment. What else did Devin see when he looked at his hands? Did he see what Noah saw? The blood of the people he loved, and of the people he’d killed?

“It’s fine,” Noah said.

Devin tensed his jaw, then turned his head. He reached up and stroked Noah’s cheek. “Is it?” He arched his neck, leaning forward to kiss Noah. The kiss was gentle. “You deserve better.”

Noah snorted a laugh. “Are you really going to start that again?”

Lowering his head, Devin apologized. “Yeah. No. I’m sorry.” He scratched above his eyebrow.

“I know today hasn’t exactly been a good day.” Noah touched Devin’s thigh. “But I’m glad you’re here.” With all the loss and dashed dreams of a better tomorrow, being close to Devin had made it that little easier to bear.

Devin managed a smile. “I’m glad you’re here, too.” He rested his forehead against Noah’s. “We won’t let this break us. I have to believe there is still hope for this world. That it can be fixed.”

“While there are still people like you in the world, I know that can happen.” Noah wrapped his hand around the back of Devin’s neck, and through the back of Devin’s hair. “It will happen. You’ll find a way.” He kissed Devin, then closed his eyes as they settled into the close embrace. He had faith in Devin. He just wished there was something more he could do so Devin could have the same faith in him. That he and his immunity was meant for something more then hiding away in this damn prison.

He wanted to do more. To be the solution—the hope for the future—Devin and the others, so desperately needed. He ran his hand over Devin’s shoulder. There had to be a way.