Apocalypse Cowboy: Futuristic Romance with Zombies Read Online Free Page A

when the motorcycle turned into their driveway and rumbled to the front of the house. The engine shut off.
    What had they left lying around that had given them away? At Uncle Fred’s urging, they’d made sure the front of the house looked abandoned with the lawn growing wild. But, to her uncle’s chagrin, she drew the line at breaking windows for a more authentic look. When she’d taken the rock from his hand, which he’d claimed to need for staging, he’d pouted until she let him trash an old station wagon that she brought over from a neighbor’s place.
    Boards on the front porch creaked, a hillbilly’s house alarm her dad used to jokingly call it whenever her mother would ask him to fix it.
    Breathing in fast pants, Hannah moved back from the entrance and shouldered the shotgun, aiming it at chest height. Silly really because the front door was locked and whoever stood out there couldn’t get in.
    She watched in terrified fascination as the handle turned, first one way then the other. A muffled curse followed by a thump as the visitor kicked the locked portal. Hannah stifled a sob as her finger trembled on the trigger. More creaking was heard as the person went back down the steps. Then even worse. Silence.
    Silence because he’d given up? Could they be so lucky? Hannah let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Are we safe?
    Not yet. She hadn’t heard the sound of the bike starting back up . Why isn’t the stranger leaving? What is he doing?
    The tinkling of glass breaking in the kitchen made her swing around to the doorway that led into the kitchen. The curtain over the window hid the intruder, but Hannah had a clear view of the side door. She noted with horrified fascination the hand that came through the broken opening and turned the latch to unlock. She stared in frozen disbelief as the kitchen door swung open, allowing a tall figure wearing a low-brimmed cowboy hat, bandanna, and long leather duster to enter her home.
    Terrified, not just for herself but also for her family in the cellar, Hannah pulled the trigger.

Chapter Three
    The shotgun blast took him by surprise. He’d thought the house vacant, but he hadn’t survived the apocalypse by being foolish or slow.
    Ducking out of instinct, he covered his face, even as splinters flew from the doorjamb above him. When a second blast didn’t follow, he peered around the edge of the door that had changed little since the last time he’d seen it.
    He heard a distinctive click as someone chambered a shell. The barrel came poking through the kitchen archway, followed by a miracle he hadn’t expected and certainly didn’t deserve.
    “That’s the only warning I’m giving you, mister,” said a voice he’d dreamed about and never thought to hear again. “Get out before I blow your fucking head off.” Her vulgar language made him want to laugh. The little kitten he’d left had grown into a tigress.
    As he watched the nervous waver of the shotgun, it occurred to him he’d better declare who he was before he found out if she meant her threat. “Hannah, is that you?”
    No mistaking her gasp of surprise. Slowly, he stood, showing himself to the woman he’d foolishly left behind. A wide smile spread across his face, a motion so unfamiliar this past year, he felt his muscles strain to stretch, even as his heart stuttered in his chest.
    She’s alive! And she’s more beautiful than ever.
    “Brody?” Uncertainty colored familiar features, but at least she lowered the barrel of the gun.
    Brody drank her in, from the golden curls forming a halo around the face he’d never forgotten to her upturned nose sprinkled with freckles. Bright, brown eyes regarded him with confusion, and she bit her full, luscious lower lip. Lips that tasted sweeter than any dessert.
    His gaze flicked over her figure, still generously proportioned with a bosom he’d loved burying his face in and rounded hips he’d held on to for many wild rides.
    A tightness in