Chapter 5: What kind of apocalypse novel is this?!

The woman’s breathing was slowly returning to normal, each faint exhale sending a trace of warmth through the thin fabric stretched over his abdomen. Every soft puff felt like a tiny heated needle, repeatedly pricking at the ends of his already-taut nerves.

What made it worse were her occasional involuntary shivers.

They weren’t violent struggles. Instead, she merely curled up, almost like a sleepy kitten stretching in its dreams, rubbing her cheek against his abdomen before settling into a more comfortable position.

Jack clenched his back teeth, a vein throbbing at his temple.

Only one thought remained in his mind: Endure it. Just endure it. We’re saving her. This is a rescue operation. Do not let naughty thoughts cloud your mind.

Unfortunately, his body refused to listen.

His blood surged all at once, rushing somewhere it absolutely shouldn’t. He could feel his natural reaction mounting, separated from the girl’s soft cheek by little more than a whisper of cotton.

Ray wasn’t faring any better.

His left hand was braced against the floor of the truck while his right arm supported May around the waist to keep her steady. The small patch of skin beneath his palm was unbelievably smooth, and her ankle had brushed against his abdomen more times than he could count. With every contact, the muscles in his right arm tightened another degree.

Theo had closed his eyes.

His breathing rate—normally a steady sixteen breaths per minute—had climbed to twenty-four. For a combat medic as disciplined as he was, that was practically a public display of obvious horniness.

Ace was even worse.

The gentle smile that usually rested on his face had completely vanished. His big, round eyes were half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line. The only indication of his internal chaos was the slight tremor in the hand resting against May’s back.

The four men reached a silent, desperate consensus: Don’t speak. Don’t move.

They were terrified that one careless motion would send the precarious situation completely off the rails.

Just as the four living statues were about to suffocate from holding themselves rigid, hurried footsteps sounded outside.

"We found the blood bags! Two units of O-negative!"

Mitch hauled a medical case onto the rear platform, with Alex right behind him. The instant they stepped aboard, the pale emergency lights spilling from the abandoned hospital illuminated the scene inside.

Four shirtless, powerfully built men had effectively encircled one tiny, almost luminous woman. The arrangement was so suspiciously intimate that it was impossible to look at without drawing the wrong conclusion.

The medical case nearly slipped from Mitch’s hands. "What the hell?! You guys..."

His mouth opened, closed, and opened again, his expression twisting beyond recognition. "You said this was supposed to be hypothermia treatment! What medical textbook teaches this?"

Alex was considerably calmer. He leaned against the side of the truck, tilting his head as messy brown hair fell over one eye. A meaningful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Wow, you pervs. You work fast. Mitch and I were gone for ten minutes, and you’ve already managed to get this... heated?" He deliberately drew out the last word.

All four men sprang apart simultaneously, like cats whose tails had just been stepped on. Their retreat was so fast, so abrupt, and so thoroughly flustered that it was arguably the least dignified tactical maneuver this elite squad had ever executed.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Four military canteens were flipped open in unison. Cold water was dumped straight over heads, faces, and chests. The icy shock raised goosebumps across their skin, but the look on their faces clearly said the same thing: This is not enough.

Jack went a step further and emptied his entire canteen over his lap. Water streamed down his legs and pooled on the metal floor.

Mitch’s mouth twitched. "Hey... did you just pee yourself?"

"I—What?! No!" The veins in Jack’s neck bulged as he yelled loud enough to startle a zombie.

Theo was the first to regain his composure. He pulled his damp white shirt back on and buttoned it all the way to the collar before speaking in his usual detached, professional tone. "Give me the blood bags. We’ll start the transfusion."

The procedure went quickly. A needle was inserted into the back of May’s slender hand, and dark red blood slowly traveled through the transparent tubing. Gradually, the deathly pallor of her face began to fade, replaced by a faint flush of healthy color.

Several minutes later, worried that her body temperature might drop again, the men reluctantly resumed their positions around her.

***

May’s consciousness slowly surfaced from the depths. Half-dazed, she realized she was unbelievably hungry—her stomach felt like an empty pouch desperately protesting its condition.

Then she felt something warm and tense right beside her cheek. Soft, firm, slightly springy. Round. Plump. Scorching hot.

A giant brioche bun. Fresh out of the oven.

There was just one strange problem: since when did brioche buns come in long shapes?

Still trapped between dreams and reality, May swallowed instinctively. One primitive thought filled her mind: I really want to eat it.

She parted her lips slightly and pressed them against the warm object, testing it before closing her mouth around it. Her teeth sank in lightly, like a baby gnawing on a teething toy, moving her mouth experimentally to figure out what kind of filling this strange "bun" contained.

Not hard. Springy. And surprisingly hot.

"Shhh—!"

A strangled cry erupted from above her. "OW!"

The sound dragged May completely out of her haze. She blinked, opening her eyes in confusion.

The first thing she saw was bronze skin and tightly defined muscle directly in front of her face. Then she looked up at Jack.

His normally rugged face had turned an alarming shade of crimson. His eyes were wide as saucers, his entire body frozen as though his joints had been welded shut, while his lips trembled helplessly.

May’s gaze shifted.

There was Ray. Theo. Ace.

All three men were staring at her from different angles, their expressions nothing short of extraordinary. The muscle in Ray’s jaw was twitching. Theo pushed his gold-rimmed glasses higher, the look behind the lenses so complex it could have been an academic paper written in a dead language. Ace was still smiling, though the warmth in his eyes had taken on a dangerous, spice-laced edge.

May slowly looked down. Her lips were still slightly parted, a faint sheen lingering on them.

She looked toward the scene of the crime. On the side of the unfortunate area she had just bitten was a damp, faint impression of her teeth.

Her memories came rushing back in a horrifying flood.

That wasn’t a brioche bun.

That was...

She had just bitten Jack. And apparently, she’d even—

May’s entire face exploded in heat, the blush spreading from her cheeks down to her collarbone. She opened her mouth to explain, but her tongue refused to cooperate.

"I... um... I thought... it was a bun..."

Every attempt at clarification only made it worse. Her voice grew quieter until it vanished entirely.

The air inside the truck solidified.

Jack was the first to break. "Yes! Exactly! I didn’t... and you didn’t mean to... It was just... we were trying to help!"

Mitch leaned against the truck wall, folded his arms, and snorted. "Oh? What exactly were you trying to heat in the woman’s mouth? Especially with THAT thing? Jack, you’ve got a very specific idea of where the heat source should be."

"Shut up!"

Alex immediately added fuel to the fire in the most innocent voice imaginable. "Jack, don’t be nervous. Maybe our new little friend was just checking whether you were poisoned and tried to suck the poison out."

I’m going to die of embarrassment, and then drag all of you to hell with me! Jack thought to himself.

May buried her face in her knees, the tips of her ears so red they looked ready to bleed.

Seriously, what kind of apocalypse novel is this?!