Apocalypse: After Reanimation, I Became The Queen-Chapter 63: _ The Kiss

I and Pretty Boy keep going. The hallway groans under our weight. As we pass one of the open doorways, something on the ground catches my eye.

It’s a boot. A left boot, brown and crusted.

OMG, it’s Bea’s!

I stop. My gut clenches, not from fear, but that old instinctual dread. Like being watched. Like waking up and knowing something isn’t where you left it.

Pretty Boy sees it too. "Is that..."

"Yeah."

We don’t say anything else because there’s little we can do. I’ll go find them later, but now, I need to get Leon to safety.

Not just from the zombies, but from Hugh and Robbie’s crew because I knew they’d soon come.

"Let’s just keep moving." I nudge him and so we do.

We move faster now, my grip firmer under his arm. If I hadn’t recently fed, my muscles would have already scream from the weight of him and the gear but thank God for Hugh and Robbie.

Finally, we reach the end of the hall. Room 206.

I still don’t have the keys, but since the doors are unlocked, I push it open with my foot.

Room 206 opens like the mouth of a creature that forgot how to bite. It’s that slight creak of wood makes my scalp itch, my instincts always dialed to a frequency just above "fight-or-die."

I push the door wider with the toe of my boot, then tilt my head in.

Silence.

Dust particles dance lazily in a beam of sun that filters through a broken blind. The place doesn’t smell like mold or decay or rot... or blood, which is the real lottery win.

It smells... like dust. Like old paper and carpet and lives that used to be. A sharp contrast to the rest of the building where the air itself wants to murder you.

Leon limps in behind me, still leaning on my shoulder like I’m the world’s most irritable crutch. As soon as we’re inside, I kick the door shut and help him lower onto the couch which, miracle of miracles, doesn’t crumble under his weight.

"Holy shit," he whispers, eyes wide as he scans the room. "This is... is this heaven?"

I give him a deadpan look. "A heaven without a key."

He blinks, still distracted by the miracle of four intact walls and a sagging but clean-ish mattress. "What does that mean?"

"It means this ain’t ours yet," I mutter. "This is one of the few places I found that hasn’t been looted into Swiss cheese but this is the best. No bodies. No blood stains. Plumbing works. There’s even a locked drawer I haven’t picked yet."

I step toward the kitchenette and fling open the cabinet doors with a flourish. "Voila! An expired instant noodle. Two packs. Gourmet dinner for survivors with discerning palettes."

Leon laughs, and it’s a warm, cracked sound. Not mocking or loud. Just... real.

It’s just the sound of someone who hasn’t had a reason to laugh in too long. "You’re kidding."

I wave a noodle packet at him. "Do I look like I’m joking?"

He leans back on the couch, arms spread, letting his head rest against the edge like he’s sunbathing in paradise. "I’m gonna say it again. This is heaven."

I drop the packet onto the counter with a little too much force. "Well, it’s a heaven with no key. Which means I need to find it. And while I’m at it, I’m gonna find the girls."

Leon’s smile fades. He sits up slightly. "Renata..."

"I don’t know what happened after I got separated from them. I don’t like not knowing. Bea’s boot was down the hall. I need to make sure she’s still in one piece."

He nods reluctantly. "What do you want me to do while you’re out there doing your whole death-waltz thing?"

"Barricade the door. There’s some busted furniture in the bedroom, drag a chair, a table, whatever you can. And if someone knocks, you don’t answer unless they say one word."

"What word?"

Only one word comes into my mind. The System.

I grab the crowbar from my pack, turn toward the door, and look him dead in the eye. "Requiem."

He blinks again, mouth parting. "That’s... haunting."

"It’s memorable," I say with a shrug. "Can’t have you opening the door to some gut-slurping tourist."

He nods, but doesn’t look entirely convinced. As I approach the door, he calls out, "Renata."

I pause.

"You should rest."

I tilt my head. "What?"

"You’ve been going up and down, dragging my dramatic ass, fighting zombies, getting drenched in blood, probably ignoring a hundred stress fractures. You haven’t slept since... when? Two days ago? Longer?"

Oh, Pretty Boy, I’m a zombie. I don’t need to sleep. Unless I don’t feed, I don’t get tired too. Don’t stress yourself, will you?

"Time’s a circle. Sleep is a scam." I say.

"Come on." His voice is soft now, concerned in a way I’m not prepared for.

"You keep pushing and pushing like the apocalypse gave you batteries instead of bones. You’re going to collapse."

Well, it gave me more than batteries. It gave me this... Whatever the hell I am now.

I turn slowly, trying to keep the sarcasm loaded on my tongue, but it slips. His face is open and serious. It’s the same expression from earlier, when he told me to leave him behind.

Damn it.

"I’m fine," I say, stepping toward him. "Really. I’m just..."

I reach out to pat his shoulder, maybe offer a quip about how he’s my favorite piece of luggage. But the second my fingers brush the side of his neck, something sparks between us.

He looks at me. I look at him.

Jesus Christ, I think the air changes, or maybe it stops entirely.

My breath stops. His does too. I feel it more than see it. His hand reaches up and curls around my wrist, like he’s not sure if he’s dreaming about me or holding me.

And then, just like that, Leon leans forward and kisses me.

It isn’t a hungry, cinematic kind of kiss. Not something dramatic with background music and fireworks. It’s hesitant.

It’s raw like he’s spent all his strength pulling it from some deep place inside him.

I freeze. What the hell is going on?

I’ve had blood on my lips less than an hour ago. There’s probably still brain matter in my teeth. And this beautiful, broken man just presses his mouth against mine like none of that matters.

Except he doesn’t know. He’s kissing a zombie. What if I’m also blackworm-infested? Can the virus be transmitted through a kiss?

It shocks me so much that I don’t react at first. I just stand there, lips still and brain buffering.

And then, stupidly, impossibly, I kiss him back.

It’s clumsy. Our teeth click. His hand goes to my waist, and I feel the tremble in his fingers. Mine finds his chest, then instantly regrets it.. because oh God he’s still half-wrecked inside.

But it doesn’t matter.

For a few seconds, there’s no blood. No rot. No countdown in the corner of my vision. No screams. No undead.

Just heat. Just lips. Just the whisper of possibility in a world that’s forgotten what hope looks like.

We kiss for about three minutes or even more. Hands exploring each other.

We break apart slowly. I don’t want to meet his eyes. He looks dazed, like he can’t believe what just happened. Same, buddy. Same.

Then my brain catches up and screams, what the actual hell are we doing?!

I jerk back so fast that I almost stumble over the coffee table. "Okay... okay. Wow. That just... happened."

Pretty Boy looks just as startled as I feel. He opens his mouth and closes it. Then he opens it again like a fish that’s forgotten how to use words.

"I, uh..." he stammers. "Sorry. That was... I mean, not sorry if—unless you’re... you know what, I’m just gonna shut up now."

"Good plan," I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. My lips still tingle, and I hate that I notice. "That was... unexpected." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Yeah," he says, voice cracking like a fourteen-year-old. "Wasn’t planning on... that."

"No kidding."

Silence stretches between us. There’s a full ten seconds of awkward, toe-curling silence. I glance around the room like I’m suddenly fascinated by the wallpaper. He looks like he wants to melt into the couch.

Finally, I clear my throat and take two big steps back. "Anyway. I’m gonna go. Find the girls. And the key. You barricade the door."

"Right. Yep. Barricade. Code word: Requiem."

"Exactly."

"Don’t die?"

"Not planning to."

I reach for the doorknob, my hand remaining there just a second too long.

He clears his throat again. "Hey, Renata?"

I glance over my shoulder.

His expression’s softer now and he’s less shocked. "Thanks for not... decking me."

"Don’t tempt me," I mutter, but there’s no meanness in it.

Sincerely and genuinely, I like that kiss and wouldn’t mind doing it again. Or maybe even more. After all, it is the Apocalypse and anyone can fuck anyone.

And with that, I slip back into the hallway, heart pounding like a bad drum solo and lips that won’t stop tingling.