NaNo Excerpt

Um...the only thing I think you need to know is that nekros = zombies in this world, and the characters are coming back after running into some. On the way back, they found a dog--one that our narrator recognized and kinda freaked out about.

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Psalms (Chapter 3/4 excerpt.)

Terry stopped the van in front of our apartment building. Front light wasn’t working again and the steps were swathed in darkness. Even then, I saw the outline of a person sitting there.

Eyes fixed on the figure, I opened the van door, slid out, and slammed it closed behind me without turning my head away. I heard the opening and closing of doors, voices, and other sounds behind me, but they faded.

The man on the steps stood and started towards me. Even as I recognized the outline, the way he seemed to saunter and how he held himself, my brain insisted it wasn’t true. Despite Birch being behind me. Despite the seizing in my chest.

It’s not him, it’s not him...

He was close enough now that I recognized the curve of his face and mop of sandy hair. I stopped dead, heart pounding. He continued a bit closer and smiled faintly. When he spoke, his voice held hesitant familiarity.

“Hey, Buttercup.”

I balled my hand into a fist and popped him one right in the nose.

Wes stumbled back, clutching his face, his eyes wincing. “Jesus, Jade―” he mumbled through his cupped hands.

I heard footsteps behind me but I didn’t turn to look at Carmen and Terry. My eyes remained locked on Wes’s. I might hit him again. Oh, and I had my steel-toed boots on, so I could kick him. Hard. Right in the balls. The million things I’d wanted to do him in those weeks right after he disappeared entered my mind like it had all happened only yesterday.

Terry had his shotgun raised and pointed at my ex. I appreciated that he was the kind of guy I could count on like that―if I punched a guy, he’d threaten to shoot him without even asking why.

I glared as Wes, who smartly decided not to come anywhere near me again. “Why the hell are you here?”

Birch trotted over to his owner, whining, and Wes reached down to ruffle the dog’s ears reassuringly. “It wasn’t to get my nose broken.”

“Well, I thought it best to give you a proper greeting. Why the hell are you here?”

He straightened his back and met my eyes. “Can we talk?”

No. No, no, no―it would be a bad idea. I really wanted to hit him some more, not talk.

He had eyes just like his hound dog. Big and brown. The kind that melt your anger and suck you into comforting them, no matter what you’re mad about. I call them “I pissed on the carpet” eyes because that’s usually when a dog looks at you like that, pleading for forgiveness.

As he regarded me from a few feet away, something told me Wes had pissed on someone’s carpet.

Last time I saw him, I was on my way out the door for work in the morning. He was washing the breakfast dishes after cooking mountains of French toast with cinnamon and icing sugar sprinkled on them. When I’d woken up to the smell of a wonderful breakfast being prepared for me, I’d thought I’d died and gone to heaven that day. I skipped to work thinking that, despite the slow termination of humanity we were living through, I was the luckiest girl still alive.

I came home for lunch and he was gone. Along with anything of value we owned.

I couldn’t talk to Xavier Westley. Not without punching him a few times first.

“Upstairs,” I said. I’d rather beat him inside where we wouldn’t be attacked by roaming nekros.

“Jade,” Terry started, but I halted him with a look as I glanced over my shoulder.

“We’re still following the plan. Get Don, and probably Vance.” My gaze went to Carmen. “Take Carmen with you. Don won’t go anywhere at this hour unless she asks him to.”

Crotchety old Don—fifty-something now, I guessed—had a thing for hot Latina women. He’d be in a shitty mood and normally I wouldn’t bring him into this, but...the guns. So many of them. I wasn’t opposed to using Carmen’s feminine wiles to get him to join us for a talk. Though the tightening of her lips and narrowing of her eyes suggested she wasn’t pleased with the idea, she handed me the backpack of groceries anyways and returned to the van.

Terry eased the shotgun down and nodded at Wes. “We’ll be back shortly.”

“I promise not to kill her,” Wes said with a flippant smile.

Never did know when to keep his damn mouth shut.

I started towards the security door, pulling my keys from my pocket. “Notice how I’m not making any such promise with regards to you.”

Wes leaned against the wall by the door, facing me, as I slid the key in the lock. It always took a few tries to get the thing to work, so I wasn’t surprised when it didn’t turn right away. Still, I muttered a few curses under my breath and twisted the key for awhile. Didn’t realize how tense I’d gotten since seeing Birch on the road, but now I felt it all over, deep in my bones and spreading into my fingertips.

“Took awhile to find you,” he said softly.

I knew he was looking at me so I didn’t glance up at him. Didn’t need those pissy carpet eyes making me feel bad when I had no reason to. “Learned that from you.”

Silence. I’d never know for sure how deeply my words could cut him. Part of me hoped to hurt him. Part of me wanted to think it wouldn’t hurt. It’s easier to hate someone if you think they don’t feel anything.

Lose-lose situation as far as I could tell.

At last the key turned in the lock and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Birch dove past my feet and bounded up the stairs, as if he knew where he was going. I welcomed the reprieve at having Wes behind me so that I didn’t have to look at him anymore, and jogged up the steps to the second floor.

The apartment was how I’d left it. Dark. Quiet. A little cool. Carmen constantly put the heat up; I constantly turned it down and cracked open the windows. I liked being able to breathe, no matter how cold it is.

The shower beckoned to me, but instead I headed for the kitchen first. Had those groceries to put away. Besides, I could hear Wes out and hope that he’d be done and on his way before the others got back.

I set Carmen’s backpack on the counter, then slipped off my jacket and hung it off the back of an oak dinette chair. Cemetery dirt was caked under my nails and my hands felt grimy; I lathered up under the sink and tried to scrub everything away.

A body wove its way around my legs. Right, Birch. Poor guy was probably hungry. Didn’t have any dog food, but I snatched a big bowl from the drying rack and filled it with water for him. I then set to putting away groceries to the sound of a dog eagerly―and messily―lapping up fresh cold water at my feet.

“What happened?”

I jumped a little at the sound of Wes’s voice so near. Damn nerves. Maybe Don would bring some beer with him―that would set me straight.

“You okay?”

My dark eyes shot to the side to see him hanging by the refrigerator, focused on my left arm. I glanced down to see various colourful bruises forming.

“Frolicking in a graveyard while chasing down my roommate who happened to be trying to rescue your dog. You sure as fucking hell have a way of making an entrance.” I opened the freezer door violently, nearly nicking his face, and shoved the bags of almost-melted frozen vegetables in.

“What did he need rescuing from?”

“Why don’t you head out there and see for yourself?” Next I tossed the remaining groceries into the cupboard. Christ, she’d barely bought anything―I’d bug Terry for his van the next day to pick up real stuff.

The cans, bags of rice and noodles, and other items waited in a chaotic mess for Carmen to return and organize them. That was her thing. When my nerves are bad, I do something physical like jog or fuck. Carmen uses her brain to organize things or do Sudoku. I tell her that I leave things messy to help with her sanity. Not sure she believes me.

I slammed the cupboard door closed and turned to face Wes, who still hovered in my kitchen threshold.

“Doesn’t really seem like your style.” Though he’d been looking at me, he glanced away suddenly to stare around the room, like he’d been referring to my decor. Carmen had done the place in neutrals, with coffee coloured walls and varying shades of brown on the furniture. A few hints of terracotta here and there. When Wes knew me, I was all about green, purple, and yellow―brown was about the last thing I wanted in our apartment. He’d kept an ugly brown chair that I repeatedly tried to cover with a colourful silk throw I’d paid serious money for as a teenager.

He’d left me the fucking chair and stole the throw to pawn when he took off.

Wes met my eyes again and my heart tripped up. Bad memories. Too many of them. They were there, all of them, playing again and again in my brain, but the only thing my heart knew was that Zavier Westley stood in front of me once more. In my kitchen. Blink as I may, he didn’t disappear, either.

“People change,” I said.

“No one does. People only say that when they want to pretend it’s true.”

I steeled myself again, taking all those emotions that had scurried out of the box I kept them in and stuffed them back inside once more. Then I put some tape around the metaphorical box for good measure. “So I should lock my valuables up now to prevent you from running off with them in the morning?”

He said nothing; I brushed past him and headed for the bathroom. I stripped off my torn black shirt as I went and tossed it onto the couch. Wes had a thing for a naked back―he used to have a pretty artsy photo of mine blown up and framed on the wall in our hallway.

That photo was something else he left behind. Guess he didn’t think he’d pawn it for much, and maybe he just didn’t like my back too well after all. Still, I enjoyed being a bitch, so I reached back to unhook my bra as I strolled toward the shower.

“Jade.”

My fingers stilled at the last hook. I peered over my shoulder.

Wes hung back in the living room. He brushed some of that silky, sandy hair out of his eyes—I bet if I let myself, I could remember exactly how it felt to touch. His lips quirked into a small smile. “I need your help.”

“Of course you do. But I’m showering first. If the others aren’t back by the time I’m done, the floor is yours.”

I snapped open the last hook and let my bra fall off my arms before closing the bathroom door behind me.

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A brief part of a scene from a few chapters later is posted here under "Novel Info."

Also, that picture may or may not have just been an excuse to use some poses and lighting by Skyewolf.