Operation Ann: Infected Crisis by Morse K.A

Author:Morse, K.A. [Morse, K.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dystopian | Infected
Published: 2019-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

Rockstar

Lacey Carter

All of a sudden, Harris is struggling to get something out of his pocket. Once he does, I see it’s his M9. What the fuck does he see? Then I see him. He doesn’t look infected. Doesn’t move like them, but I’m not taking any fucking chances. As he sees us, he starts to wave. I still don’t bring down my guard, but none of the infected have acted like this.

We move in closer, and it’s like I’m in a movie. My heart slows down, or speeds up, I'm not sure. There’s a tightness in my chest, I can’t breath. Fuck, I’m having a heart attack. He looks like a Norse God covered in tattoos, and fuck, the muscles on him, too. The only thing he’s missing is the fucking hammer then he could be my Thor. He stands at least six feet tall, black hair falling in one of his eyes until he slicks it back. His white shirt clings to his body, completely drenched, only giving me hints of the tattoos that are hidden by it, but my eyes want to know more. His black jeans have some rips in them giving me a glimpse of those massive leg muscles he’s hiding.

“Carter, you can put your gun down, he’s not infected,” Harris’s voice breaks me from my trance.

Slowly, my gun comes down. I’m shaking my head as I do. “Man, this fucking heat must be getting to me,” I say, trying to hide my embarrassment.

Harris leans in, “So are you regretting those granny panties now?”

He has a smug look on his face, his ass knows me too well. A karate chop to the Adam’s apple would shut him up real fast.

“Nope, I’m just fine with my life choices.” I give him a smug look back. “So, who the fuck are you, and where the fuck did you come from?”

“Whoa, calm the fuck down, buttercup,” the stranger says, which makes me furious. Harris starts to laugh, knowing I’m about to go off on his ass.

“One, the name’s not fucking ‘buttercup.’ asshole!” One thing I hate is a hot guy who thinks just because I’m a woman, they can treat me as less than an equal.

“Sergeant Carter, can you just let him speak?” Metzger steps in between us.

“Fuck, I just asked a simple question. Why can’t he fucking answer it?” I mumble. “I thought I said it nicely.”

“Nice for a jackal, maybe,” Metzger tells me. “Anyway, I’m Ranger Metzger, and these are Sergeants Harris and Carter.” He points to each of us.

“Well, I’m just Carson. Sorry, nothing fancy in front of it.” He smiles hugely, making me melt a little more inside.

“Okay, Carson, where did you come from?” I try to ask him in a nicer tone without gritting my teeth.

“I’m guessing probably the same place you did,” he says, trying to wring his wet shirt out.

I have to look away, or I might lose myself right there. The sound of a Red Bull can opening snaps me back to where I need to be.

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