* * *
She couldn’t stop shaking.
Lillian sat curled in a little ball tucked between the wall and a heavy steel cabinet and concentrated on stopping the tremors raking her body. She tried, honest to goodness tried, but it appeared to be Mission Impossible.
“I did it,” she told the kind-faced soldier who knelt down in front of her. He’d been the one who’d pulled her away when the wolfman—Jack—had come crashing to her rescue.
She hadn’t even seen the second zombie. Before she could do anything about it, even with her trusty axe, Jack had been there, and Palmer had herded her back down the corridor. He’d even taken her axe from her, something they’d had a minor tussle over. In the end though, no matter how much of an ass-kicking, zombie-killing b***h she was, she couldn’t hold out against
