Warm Skins

Dakota ducked into the car just as bullets whizzed past her head and then shot out at them again. She managed to fell a few of their pursuers. One of the vehicles began to gain on them; pulling up next to them. But they didn't last long as she blew out their tires and sent the car to veer and flip over. When they saw the scrapyard just up ahead, Sloan stepped on it.

"There's a power station by the main gate on the other side. I have an idea, just get me close enough and I can make a run for it." Dakota ordered Sloan. Without complaint, she swerved them into a different direction; splitting off from the others. In turn, the bandits changed courses.

Quickly, however, they began to realize how much worse the situation was. As they weaved through the wreckage of smashed cars and mountains upon mountains of junk, it was soon apparent that the scrapyard was a festering nest for the undead. Sloan slammed into the ones in their way.

"This isn't good! Who knows how many more there are! We should just drive through!" Sloan yelled.

"No, we're not gonna be able to outrun those assholes! We're as good as dead!"

"We're dead either way! But I'd rather die quickly!"

"Just trust me! And get us there now!"

Sloan grunted in frustration and slammed on the accelerator.

"Right there!" Dakota pointed towards a power box a few feet away. But it seemed luck was out to get them when a pile of compacted cars teetered and fell right in front of them; forcing Sloan to veer out of the way. She couldn't keep her grip on the car however and lost control; crashing. A sharp blackness overtook them as the impact hit.

When the bandits caught up with them, Dakota and Sloan were crawling out from the wreck. Deep cuts and bruises riddled their aching bodies and they shivered from the stinging drops of rain pelting down on them. When they looked up, the blaring headlights from the bandits cars strained their eyes. Like diseased rats at filth, they were surrounded, guns and all.

"Search them!" Ordered one of the bandits. Then they began to strip them of their weapons and belongings. Dakota restrained herself as her backpack was taken. She eyed the bag wearily. Now, the detonator was gone.

"Well, well, well," a deep and gravelly voice echoed, "now, I thought I saw a ghost. I could never mistake those beguiling black pearls of yours. The way they looked when filled with abhorrence and fury. How I missed them."

Dakota glared at the man who spoke to her. "Frank."

"There they are. Stunning as ever," the older man rubbed at his graying beard with a sickening grin, "hell, I almost couldn't believe it. I thought that the father below must've been playing tricks on me. My dear 'Jericho,' risen from the dead."

Sloan's eyes went wide. "Jericho? I've heard of that name. It-it was the name of the bandit who operated directly under...Frank." She turned to look at Dakota. Her face was bleak with shock.

Suddenly, a muffled scream and the sounds of struggle interrupted them. Dakota and Sloan glanced behind the old man and saw one of his men dragging someone out of their vehicles. They both held their breath as Elaine came stumbling into view; gripped by the hair to keep from running.

She looked at the both of them with guilt written all over her face. Dried blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth. "I'm sorry. I-I couldn't just leave everyone."

The bandit holding her pressed a blade up to her throat. "Shut up, bitch. She tried to run us over when we killed the other runaways. We thought we'd have our fun with her before we fed her to the dead fuckers."

Frank let out a hoarse chuckle. "Do as you wish. Now, I knew to expect something when I received news about the whereabouts of the explosives. I just didn't think you were the one behind it. A thorn in my side even from beyond the grave. You brought a great deal of pain and disappointment to me when you disappeared, you know. Broke my heart."

"Fuck you, you murderous pig. I'll slaughter you like I did Gabriel." Dakota snarled.

"Hypocrisy, my dear, is the greatest sin," Frank glowered, "and yes...I hadn't heard from him in awhile. I assumed the worst. I suppose that's a karma of his own making. He never could finish a job properly. Always leaving something out. In that regard, you were always more consistent. But sadly, our short lived reunion must end. It's time to snuff you out for good. But I will say this. I am glad I was able to see you one last time, for what it's worth." Then, he raised his hand to open fire.

"Wait!" Dakota called out. The rough and menacing old man paused. "Take me alone. These women have done no wrong. Let them go."

Frank snickered and watched her in amusement with his snake-like eyes, "You've changed, Jericho. It's a shame. You and I could've ruled the new world together. You will die here along with the poor souls you've brought with you."

"Fraaank!" Dakota roared. The intensity of her cry silenced everyone. It was as loud and powerful as the thunder overhead. Even Frank himself, the stocky and intimidating old man, stopped in his tracks. "Give this to me. My life was yours for you to do with until it no longer was. I have given everything to you and you've taken everything from me. So, give me this one thing. Please."

Wonder dazzled Frank's eye. He clicked his tongue after a moment. "It really is a shame to see what you've become. At least when I thought you were dead, you still had the dignity not to beg." He watched her closely, but still, she didn't falter. "Fine. One last parting gift. Let the others go. Our Jericho has lost her touch."

His men moved at his command; picking up and shoving Elaine and Sloan free. Together, they ran as fast as they could, but only after Sloan had to drag Elaine away. She thought it was wrong, Dakota could see that in the way she looked at her. Those confused, sorrowful, and imploring blue sapphires wet with exhaustion and fear. The longing gaze she gave before forcing herself to turn away.

'Beautiful,' Dakota thought to herself.

And then they were gone.

Slowly, Dakota got up from her knees and started to walk backwards. The bandits shouted for her to stop, but she had no fear.

"There's no where for you to go. Your nine lives are up. This time I'll see to it. You know, this all started because you wanted to keep what was rightfully mine away from me. In the end, you've brought it right to my feet. Ironic, isn't it? Any last words, my dear?" Frank asked.

When Dakota's back thudded against the wall behind her, she reached out for the power box just beside her and laid her hands across the old switches. She let out a long and haggard sigh. "I always hated it when you called me 'dear.'"

And then she switched the power on. Like a reanimated corpse, the scrapyard came to life. Lights and the rising hum of machines and electricity boomed throughout the yard.

Frank and his bandits looked around in frantic confusion. It'd been hard to tell since the rain, thunder and adrenaline had drowned it out, but the moans and screeches of the undead had been growing closer and closer ever since they entered the junkyard.

Now, with the flashing lights and the rumbling of metal, the scrapyard was practically begging for their attention. A loud and gurgling howl echoed in the distance and then Frank and his men knew what she'd done.

"You fucking bitch." Frank seethed. Suddenly, a horde of the dead sprinted from over the piles of junk and began to bombard them. "Goddamnit! Get moving, now!"

But, Dakota was already steps ahead. Grabbing the closest bandit to her, she knocked him out before making a run for one of their cars. Before anyone could have the chance to stop her, she was already speeding off. She watched in the rear view mirror as Frank and his men fought for their lives against the waves of the undead. Now, she just needed to get out alive.

The dead had already swarmed the entire vicinity of the scrapyard in the minutes it took her to get out of there. Dakota's heart thumped in her chest wildly as she tried to keep from crashing or going off course. Finally, she managed to clear the last of them and drove out into the darkness; leaving that death place for good.

She was almost back in the city when she was suddenly rammed into by another car. The last thing she remembered was slamming her head into the window and then the dreams began.

~

Dakota woke up next with a splitting headache pounding inside her skull and the familiar burning sensation at her throat. She groaned in pain and tried to shake it off. Suddenly, she felt the front of her tank top being yanked and craned her head. Sloan had her by the shirt. For once, she was actually glad to see the son of a bitch. Before she could utter a word though, Sloan punched her in the face. Hard.

"You traitorous bitch! I knew you weren't to be trusted!" Sloan shouted.

"Wait, stop!" Another voice intervened.

Dakota glanced at the other person as she wiped the blood running down her nose and saw Elaine at her defense. What was left of their forces had made camp at an abandoned parking garage. She saw that only four vehicles were left and the people standing around them beside Elaine and Sloan were all that had survived.

Elaine got in between them and tried to keep Sloan at bay. "She saved our lives!"

"No, she didn't. She led us to them! Didn't you hear, she's one of them!" Sloan accused.

Elaine looked back at Dakota in hesitation. She had.

"She's a scheming cunt! One of Frank's personal dogs. Her real name is Jericho," Sloan spoke to the rest of their team this time, "her and Gabriel organized and controlled every stint and robbery that Frank ordered. Including the ones against us. We'd thought she disappeared years ago. Died off somewhere for good. She's what we've been fighting against this whole time!"

"Is this true?" One of the men asked.

Dakota looked around, tired and defeated. "Yes."

Gasps and sounds of shock circulated throughout the group of people.

"I'll fucking kill you." Sloan snapped. She pulled out her gun and raised it at Dakota's head, but was abruptly stopped by Elaine.

"Stop, Sloan. Please! We owe her at least a chance to explain herself. She saved our lives. And the lives of our sick. I cannot and will not overlook that and so will you. Please!" Elaine begged.

Eventually, Sloan relaxed. It took a bit more coaxing from Elaine but she did. With an exasperated grunt, she dropped the gun to her side and stalked off; pacing back and forth.

Elaine turned to Dakota. "Please."

Dakota looked down and tried to blink away the blood trickling down her brow. Running her hand through her short brown hair, she took a minute to compose herself before she spoke. "Jericho Valley is where Frank found me. It was a city somewhere along the northeastern borders. I was alone, starving and nearly dead. He named me after it as a reminder of what I owed him. For years, I was forced to work for him. Did everything he wanted me to. Killed whoever he wanted me to."

The room was quiet as everyone listened; save for the whispering of winds and the nigh time trills of insects. Elaine watched the woman's face; stricken by the hollow sadness she found there.

"One day, he'd given us a mission to raid a military encampment and steal whatever weapons and supplies they had. Gabriel and I led the attack. That's when we found the 15 tons of explosives. When we reported it back, Frank wanted it transported immediately. That's what we were supposed to do. But I couldn't follow that. I was able to convince Gabriel to let me transport it alone, and when I had it, I ran and never looked back. Over the years, I'd grown numb to the deaths that I laid out, and it frightened me. When we found those bombs, I knew Frank would massacre everything in his path. It would give him the power to do so. That...I couldn't give to him, so I ran."

"He wouldn't let you go that easily." Sloan commented.

"Of course not," Dakota answered, "he didn't."

After awhile, Elaine spoke up. "But you're here now. With us. You fight with us."

Dakota glanced at the merciful woman. Her blonde hair, even in its messy state, flowed beautifully down her body. And though her skin was blemished and dirtied, she stood strong and shined brightly like the golden rays of the sun.

Her kindness was unworthy for someone like her, Dakota thought. But even so, she wanted to kneel in front of her and cry in her lap. "I can't undo what has already been done. Nor can I apologize for the lives I've taken, because they can't forgive me from where they are now. But I can repent and end things once and for all. I fight with you. Please, allow me to fight with you."

The others stayed silent in her plea, yet they did not refuse. Some were still bitter, of course, but what good would it be to them now to drag those emotions out now? Silence was all the answer they could offer her. When it came to Sloan though, the woman was still skeptic. It showed on her furrowed brows and tense stance. But even she, eventually, nodded her head.

"What happened to Frank? I saw the junkyard lights go off." Sloan asked.

"I set them. To lure the dead there. But I doubt that was enough to take care of him."

Elaine glanced over at Dakota with a look that expressed her disapproval. Even then, she was still acting a saint. Dakota couldn't tell if she really was simple or worse, the rare kind. The ones who still believed and trusted in good.

"We'll rest here for the night. Frank won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Not with his losses and the horde of dead between him and his fucking trinkets. Get some rest. We'll regroup in the morning." Sloan ordered.

It was already past midnight by the time everyone settled in for the night. Dakota, however, couldn't sleep. Sitting up in her tent, she tried to stitch her wounds. But with little success.

A small rustling drew her attention away from her work and she saw as Elaine quietly slipped inside her tent.

"I saw your light. I thought you could use the company." She whispered.

Dakota pursed her lip and went back to her stitches. "Do as you like."

A few minutes passed. During which, Elaine had grown increasingly bothered by the poor stitching the woman was doing on herself. She saw as her hand slightly shook and how the needle trembled. The woman was exhausted and hurt badly, but yet how delusional she was to push even through that.

"Here," gently, Elaine took the needle and thread away from her, "let me do it."

This time, Dakota didn't fight her. She let the woman take it from her and their hands brushed together at the slight contact. When Elaine began to fix the stitches, Dakota just watched her; feeling compelled to say something. "Thank you."

Elaine glanced up at her in surprise and couldn't help a grin. "You must've really hit your head when we crashed into you. We thought you were one of them."

"You weren't wrong." Dakota joked. A slight smile curled her lips, one that Elaine was able to catch before it slipped away.

"You should smile more. It suits you."

She let out a small laugh. Even more surprising! But when Elaine went to look up at her, she saw a smile, yes, but also a faraway look in her eyes.

"Someone used to say that to me a lot too." Dakota said, her voiced tinged with melancholy.

Elaine watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. "Can I ask who?"

Dakota averted her gaze. "She was a survivor I met when I was on the run from Frank. Admittedly, I meant to rob her and the small group she had with her. But, she saw my plight, felt my loneliness, and took me in. I travelled with her group for months and eventually, before I could understand why, I confided in her. About everything. She's the one who helped me hide the bombs. She thought that I should bury it away and start anew. That I could...start anew. And for the longest time, I believed her."

Suddenly, silent tears began to fall from Dakota's face and she trembled. Elaine dropped the needle from her fingers and went to hold the woman's hand; squeezing as tight as she could. She wanted to do more, wrap her in her arms perhaps, but hesitated.

Dakota continued, "but I should've known better. Frank found me, and when he did, he sent Gabriel. We'd made a stop at an abandoned farmhouse and in our sleep, he set a horde of undead into our camp. He watched as they tore us apart and the damage was done. Everyone was dead and the ones who survived had been infected," Dakota choked as the memories flooded her again, "I was forced to barricade my friends and her in a barn and burn them, because none of them wanted to turn. They begged me to. I didn't even have enough bullets left to put them out of their fucking misery. But when the fire started, they pounded on the doors, begging me to let them out. Their screams haunt me in my dreams. And the pounding never stops."

Dakota's hands went to her face and she dug her nails into the skin; forcing the pain to go away. The sight of the tattered woman made Elaine's heart heavy. Quickly, she clasped her hands over Dakota's. It took all her strength to press them down onto her lap.

"You've hurt yourself enough, Dakota! Stop, please!" Elaine pleaded. When she felt her relax, she lifted a hand to caress the brunettes face. At first, only finger tips against her forehead; softly brushing away the fallen hair in her eyes. Then, the cup of her hand as she rounded her cheeks and down her jaw. "I see now, the vengeance that steers you. What you see when you look out into the world. Your loss is immense and incomprehensible. And your pain and suffering is crippling. I see it now, and I am so sorry. But you are still here. You're still alive. That means something, even if you may not understand why. And the people you've lost...the last thing they wish to see is you blaming yourself for their passing. They're alive in you, and that should not be mistaken as a burden or affliction, but as strength."

Dakota sobbed as Elaine finally gained the courage to hold her closer in her arms. She pulled her in, like a child, and let her cry against her chest. In kind, Dakota gripped Elaine's sleeves to keep from scratching out her own eyes. It'd been so long since she last cried like this against the warmth of someone else. Elaine's embrace was like a breath of fresh air.

When Dakota raised her head, her eyes were stained red and puffy. Elaine pressed a thumb underneath the dark circles that swept beneath each lid and wiped away the fallen tears, like her mother used to do when she was a child. In doing so, their eyes involuntarily met.

Their closeness and intimacy was instantly made aware. Yet, even so, they remained intertwined. Everything else seemed to cease to exist, even if only for a moment. Then, the impossible happened, and before they could judge the morality of the act, their lips were locked together in a soft and tentative kiss.

It was small, simple, but a switch in the dark somewhere was suddenly lifted and they were gone. Far from here and into a place much brighter and fuller. A place they both thought had died a long time ago along with the rest of the world.

The women blinked open their eyes and sighed deeply when they finally broke away. An indescribable but immense feeling radiated throughout every part of their bodies. And it was a wonderful feeling.

They caught each other's gaze again and it was all they needed to know that this was not a mistake.

Elaine's hand crawled across Dakota's chest and caressed her cheek as they kissed again. Dakota laid her hand on top of hers and held it there for a moment. Then, she let her fingers fall away and down Elaine's arm until she was grazing the skin of her backside.

It was all consuming, the soft and tender kisses. It washed away the dirt and grime and filled the holes within them with something concrete and fulfilling. They were no longer hurting, or weak, or lost. In each other's embrace and through their touch, they were unsullied and whole. It was a feeling so foreign and forgotten, but they welcomed it nonetheless.