Dead Over Heels by Alison Kemper Read Free Book Online

your wound.”
    “How long’s it been collecting lint at the bottom of your pocketbook?”
    Her brow furrows in annoyance. “You got anything better?”
    I coil the paper around my finger.
    “You should call it a purse,” she says. “Only old women say pocketbook.” Ava snags the elastic off her ponytail. “Here, use this to keep the paper on your finger.” I fumble around. “No, tighter,” she says, looping the elastic a few times. Her fingers are chilly against my skin.
    My hand still throbs, but maybe I’ve kept myself from getting a raging infection. I stare at her improvised bandage. I gotta admit, it’s pretty smart. But I sure as hell ain’t telling her that.
    I glance up. Her hair, now loose, clouds her face in a mass of white-blond curls. I ain’t sure which is more pale—her skin or her hair. For an instant, she looks different. Softer. Less harsh. Almost…pretty.
    Then she opens her mouth and I remember what a pain in the ass she is.
    “I’m cold,” she whines. “Can’t we make a fire?”
    I bark out a disbelieving laugh. “In a tree? On a plank? Without matches?”
    “Yeah.” Her brow furrows. “If only we had some matches.” She shoots an accusing stare back at me. “You’re Mr. Boy Scout. Can’t you build one with some rocks or something? Flint and a piece of string?”
    “You got any flint and string in that magic pocketbook?”
    “Er, no.”
    She’s quiet for a minute staring into the gathering dark. “But I just remembered—I do have something useful.”
    My ears perk up. “What? A machine gun? Throwing stars?”
    “Better. I have snacks.”
    My stomach growls before I get a chance to reply. “You have food?”
    She hauls out a half-full bottle of water and a bag of sunflower seeds. Maybe it is a magic pocketbook after all.
    “You got more food in there?” I ask, getting excited. “More snacks? We can drink river water here in the forest—we’re high up and away from people—but we definitely need more food.”
    She shakes her head. “This is it.”
    “Better than nothing.” My mouth waters, but common sense wins out. “I reckon we should ration it. Just eat a handful now.”
    She counts ten seeds apiece and returns the bag to her pocketbook. Maybe it makes her feel good to keep control of the food. Fine. But I know that bag of seeds won’t get us far.
    For a long heartbeat, the sun pulses fire along the ridgeline and then sinks like a rock. Within minutes, darkness presses in on us. My ears strain, trying to catch growls or footsteps, but I hear only the steady gurgle of the river.
    “You go ahead and sleep,” I tell Ava. “I’ll keep watch.”
    “Are you kidding? Sleep up here? It’s not like this deer stand has a bannister. I could roll off in the middle of the night, get eaten by the entire cast of Deliverance .”
    “Here, switch places.” My body stretches over hers as we swap positions. “The tree’ll keep you from falling off and I’ll block you this way.” Now my right leg’s smushed against Ava’s. Sudden heat flares along that side of my body. It ain’t like I’m attracted to her or anything; my body’s having a typical guy reaction, I reckon. Stupid damn hormones.
    I lean against the support limb, watching more stars emerge and trying to get my mind off the warmth spreading along my thigh. I rack my brain, hoping to remember what my dad and brother said before they left on their hunting trip.
    I ain’t telling Ava this, but we’re not exactly making a beeline to town. Dad and Jay are out here somewhere and I gotta search for ’em. Only I ain’t sure exactly where. When we hunt, we move around—following tracks and stuff. This time of year, they probably took the AT—the Appalachian Trail—toward Weaver Bald. Or, maybe, if I’m lucky they’re still somewhere along this river.
    I just hope I find ’em before the zombies do.
    …
    Darkness and silence and a flimsy piece of particleboard—is this enough to hide us? From the