Never Say Die: Stories of The Zombie Apocalypse

by Stevie Kopas

  One morning, though, it all went wrong. They'd been sleeping on top of some trucks just south of Texarkana when a whole herd of infected came wandering down the highway. By this point, the morts had grown incredibly weak, a lot of them slowing down to the point of mere shuffling, but because they continued to eat and infect unlucky survivors, their numbers never seemed to dwindle. It didn’t matter how quiet you were, if you were human, you sweat, and it drove them into a frenzy. They could always smell you. He'd tried to wake Maya in time, but he'd spotted the roaming group too late. By the time they were down off the trucks and sprinting through the trees, everything and anything in the area knew there was fresh meat on the run.

  They'd stumbled across a pasture. Animals had long since left this place, but there was good soil, and the dirt would help hide the smell. Once they were good and covered, they set out to find shelter, some place to hide for the night, but one wrong turn after the next in their panicked state had taken them right smack into the middle of yet another horde of the infected. Jack barely escaped. It was Maya that had once again saved his life. They cowered there on the side of a house, holding on to one another for dear life, truly believing that they were finally done for.

  It was Maya who had first heard the roar of the trucks, the gunfire, the holy hell that was breaking loose not even a mile away from where they'd fled. The siblings looked at one another with tearful eyes. Had help finally arrived? She forced Jack under the porch of that home and made him stay, told him she'd be right back, she'd make sure it was safe. But when Maya returned, she was screaming, running for her life again. She screamed for Jack to stay hidden, not to come out, and to his dismay, a caravan of trucks appeared behind her. A group of men emerged and caught up with his sister. They tied her up and pulled her kicking and screaming into one of those trucks, and then, before they left, they emptied a machine gun into the house where Maya had been fleeing to, including under the porch. Jack had already found a different hiding spot at a different house across the street, just in case. He still considered it the best decision he'd ever made in his life. Otherwise he'd have been filled with bullets, his corpse rotting under some blue house in Arkansas.

  "I don't know who they were, why or where they took her, but I kept going, kept looking for her for a really long time," Jack said, staring at the bottom of his empty glass.

  "I guess that's how you ended up here, like the rest of us," Evans said, looking down at his own empty glass.

  "Looks like you two finished off a week's paycheck in a single night." Scarlet said, walking over to the two men and motioning at the empty bottle of Gin on the bar. She raised an eyebrow at her husband who smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

  Evans groaned and leaned forward. "We had a hard week. They doubled our shifts down at the shop. How's about you give us a break?" He flashed her a grin and she rolled her eyes.

  "I don't know." She flipped a rag over her shoulder and placed a hand on her hip. "You promise me he won't be throwin' up all over the bathroom again and we've got a deal."

  Jack snorted, holding back a laugh, and his wife wagged a finger at him.

  "Don't get cute," she warned, "and I ain't giving no good shit away for free. The boss will have my ass."

  "Thanks, Scar," Evans said, flashing her another smile as she headed for the bottom shelf full of homemade booze.

  Scarlet poured the men their drinks, topping up their empty glasses.

  "So, what was she like?" Evans asked, turning his attention back to Jack.

  "Who?"

  "Maya. Sounds like the two of you were pretty inseparable, all things considered. She couldn't have been anything like you. You'd have never made it this far." Evans gave Jack a nudge, cracking a joke.

  Scarlet eyed Jack's coworker; he was one of the newer guys in town, asked too many questions, boozed it up a lot. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but she could always tell when someone had been on the wrong side of things out there in the wastes. She didn't like how he pressed Jack about his past. It almost seemed like he got off on other people's misery.

  She gave her husband a look. "You don't have to keep talking about the Dark Years, ya know. They're behind us now."

  Jack smiled at her. "It's alright, really babe."

  Scarlet shrugged. "Suit yourself.”

  She gave him a look of disapproval and then sauntered away to tend to the other patrons. Jack took a sip of his drink, grimacing at the taste the instant the Moonshine hit his lips. He knew he'd regret this in the morning.

  "She was resilient, a firecracker," he finally answered, smiling for the first time in a long time when he thought of Maya. "She was always defending me, even when I'd nearly get us killed and when mom wanted to rip my head off for not listening. She was like that though, always taking up for the underdog, always doing her own thing even when my mother was against it. One time, back before everything, she had this fake ID, and her and her best friend got matching tattoos on their shoulders, this stupid blue octopus. Mom nearly killed her for it."

  Evans suddenly choked on his drink. Coughing, he spit the harsh liquor all over the bar.

  "Goddamnit, Evans," Scarlet barked from across the room. "Now I gotta clean that shit up!"

  "You alright man?" Jack asked, making a face.

  "Ah, fuck, yeah, sorry." Evans cleared his throat. "A blue octopus?"

  "Yeah, why?" Jack's eyebrows drew together.

  Evans was silent for a long time, staring off ahead. He took a long swig, nearly finishing his drink.

  Jack gave the man a slight shove, his irritation growing. “Hey, what's your deal?"

  Evans turned to Jack slowly, a look of sadness on his face. "I know where your sister is."

  ***

  From the moment Evans had pushed that door open, Jack was overwhelmed with a sinking feeling that he’d just reached the point of no return. The lighting went from a dark red to a brighter orange and he was greeted with an out of place, almost sterile smell. They entered a narrow hall and Evans made sure the door was secure behind them. At the opposite end, Jack spotted another door with a small window. He could make out a stern face staring right at him and Evans. As they made their way down the hall, Jack couldn’t help but notice that this new area of the building was in much better shape than the last. The carpeting seemed new and there was obviously a fresh coat of paint, probably no more than six months old.

  The door at the far end of the hall opened and Jack could now hear soft music playing. A rigid looking man ushered them through and, as they continued, Jack could make out several voices, both male and female. Some were laughing, others were having hushed conversations. There was a large room off to his left with some men boxing items up; Jack had no desire to know what contraband they were working with. As they ventured further into this new area, there was another long hallway to the right where the lights got darker again; six doors lined either side and they were shut tight. Another sinister gentleman seemed to stand guard before this hall and Jack felt the familiar knot in his stomach return, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was behind those doors either.

  There were quite a few women draping themselves over the men in this new room, laughing loudly and stroking their egos. Jack was sure they were prostitutes; the city was full of them, so it didn’t surprise him that they would be here, in what Jack could only assume was a high end whore house. The girls out on the street didn’t look like this; these girls were clean, they were beautiful. Jack just couldn’t quite put his finger on why this place was shrouded in such secrecy.

  A thin, pale woman in a light blue robe spotted Evans and she grinned.

  “Heya Terry, honey. Long time no see.” She greeted him with a soft, seductive voice and a wink, sauntering over to him, ensuring that the robe fell open slightly to reveal her naked body.

  “Layla,” Evans nodded, smiling in response. “How’s my favorite girl?”

  “Who’s your friend, Terry?” Layla asked, ignoring his question and placing a hand on her
hip. She looked Jack up and down.

  Jack blushed slightly and looked away. This was not what he was expecting. If Maya was here, there was only one reason. A sick feeling of disappointment came over him and he looked down at his feet. After everything they’d been through, this is how she’d ended up. Wherever she was, he’d make sure they figured out a way to get her out of here. Jack was willing to do whatever it took.

  “This is Abbot,” Evans said with a frown, clearly envious that Layla was paying more attention to Jack than him. “He’s off limits. He’s got other business he’s interested in.” He narrowed his eyes, ensuring that Layla understood.

  Layla shot Jack a look and frowned. “Too bad.” She shrugged before walking away but then looked back. “If you change your mind, honey, and I really hope that you do, I’ll be here all night.”

  Jack forced a smile and a nod, then looked to Evans who didn’t seem too thrilled with Layla.

  “So…” Jack started, raising his eyebrows. “What now?”

  “Find a seat,” Evans instructed. “I’ll grab us a couple of drinks and find the boss.”

  “I think I’m okay,” Jack said.

  Evans waved a hand at him. “Trust me, you’re gonna need a drink.”

  Jack sighed and turned back toward the others in the room. He spotted an empty table with two chairs toward the back and made a beeline for it. Most of the men paid him no mind, too enthralled with the bare breasts swaying in their faces. He sniffed at the air, catching a whiff of a long forgotten smell: marijuana. He’d never messed around with it, but he’d spent many a night on the road with people who had. It never seemed to end well for them once the infected showed up, so Jack made sure to steer clear of it.

  He took a seat and tucked himself into the corner, trying to appear relaxed and neutral. He noticed a well-dressed, overweight man talking to Evans. He was definitely sizing Jack up. The guy wore a gray suit that was a bit too snug and a matching fedora. Jack thought he looked borderline comical. If he wasn’t one of the Alliance’s guys, he was sure as shit trying to seem like he was. When the man followed Evans over to where Jack was seated, Jack’s palms began to sweat and he found it harder to keep up appearances.

  “Abbot,” Evans said, holding out a glass. “This is Miguel. He runs this joint.”

  Jack eagerly accepted the drink and stood, holding out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  Miguel laughed and shook his hand. “I like him. He’s respectful,” he told Evans.

  Jack sat back down and sniffed his drink. It was definitely Bourbon, and good Bourbon at that, not like the old, recycled crap that Scarlet served.

  “Your friend paid good money to get you in here tonight. I hope you got some way of thanking him,” Miguel said between puffs of a cigar. “This first round’s on the house, just this one time. Don’t go thinking that we give handouts around here.”

  Jack didn’t like the way Miguel was looking at him, but he also didn’t like how paranoid he felt being in a place like this. All he could think about was how Scarlet was going to kill him if she found out, and how he hoped he could maintain his composure when he finally got to Maya.

  “I heard you got a special request.” Miguel adjusted his hat, his eyes never leaving Jack.

  Jack wasn’t sure what the man meant by that, but he went with it, nodding slowly.

  Miguel’s eyes narrowed, a sinister grin spreading across his face. He looked at Evans and then back at Jack. “Well, you’re a paying client. Let’s make sure you’re completely satisfied.” He motioned for Jack to follow him. “We don’t get much new business, but when we do, I like to make sure they come back for seconds. And thirds. You get the idea.”

  Miguel talked while he led the men toward that mysterious hallway they’d passed on their way in; mostly about how they had a code here, something about “what happens in Vegas.” Jack could feel the knot in his stomach growing larger by the second. After all this time, he was finally going to be face to face with his sister.

  They passed the bodyguard and entered the poorly lit hall, stopping at the last door on the right. Miguel turned to Jack and took a long drag off his cigar. “You’ve got an hour, not a minute more.” He handed Jack a key and smirked. “This your first time?”

  Jack’s eyebrows drew together and he frowned. He looked at Evans but the man’s face was expressionless. Miguel gave out a hearty laugh and wheezed, patting Jack on the shoulder. “Do yourself a favor and leave the bag on.” He laughed again.

  Jack watched Miguel lead Evans away. Gripping the key in his right hand, he turned back to the door, staring at the gold knob. His heart thumped in his chest and he took a deep breath to steady himself. He unlocked the door with trembling hands and let himself in, quickly shutting the heavy door behind him.

  The smell is what hit him first: a mixture of sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids he knew all too well. He stifled a cough and put his hand up over his mouth and nose. His eyes adjusted to the change in light. It was brighter in here but still dark enough to unsettle him. He turned away from the door slowly, taking in his surroundings. There was shelving to his right with various personal hygiene products and a bowl full of condoms. To his left was a large sink. He couldn’t help but wonder what the hell this place had been before the world ended. Ahead was a bare mattress with obvious bloodstains, and his heart sunk when his brain finally registered what he was staring at.

  A woman, barely clothed, with a dirty, brown sack over her head, was on her knees in the center of the mattress. She hung there limply, unmoving, her wrists secured with shackles that dangled from the ceiling. Her ankles sported identical tethers anchored to the floor. She was badly bruised, dried blood crusted in patches on her skin, especially around her inner thighs. He could only imagine the things that had been done to her. Jack’s breath was caught in his throat when he finally spotted that silly, blue octopus tattoo and he had to look away for a moment.

  He was filled with a confusing mixture of rage and sadness; no one should have to endure something like this, especially not his sister. Now that he was sure it was her, he would do whatever it took to get her out of here. They’d come up with a plan together, and he’d make sure no one ever hurt her again.

  He finally worked up the courage to move closer. When she sensed movement in the room, her head rose, and her body shook. She pulled against her shackles and let out a terrified sound.

  “Ssh, it’s okay.” Jack tried to calm her, getting choked up at seeing her in such a state. She was like a scared, caged animal, and she didn’t even know he was there. “Maya? Can you hear me?” She struggled even more now, writhing wildly on the bed, muffled cries coming from under that sack on her head; he figured she must have been gagged.

  “Maya,” he spoke again, his voice soft. “It’s me, Jack. I’m here, Maya. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  He reached out, slowly, holding his breath, and pulled the bag off his sister’s head. He stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet and landed hard on his ass. He could do nothing else but stare on in horror, his entire body paralyzed by disappointment. Maya screeched through her gag, nearly breaking her arms to try and get to him. The infected beast on the bed lunged forward repeatedly, not realizing she’d never be able to break free.

  Jack’s heart broke every time she struggled to bite through that gag; she wasn’t seeing her brother, she was seeing a meal. He was nothing more than fresh meat. He didn’t even feel the tears running down his face. He was temporarily numb, still too shocked by what he’d discovered here in this filthy room. His sister was infected, and she’d been chained and kept as some living sex doll for the secret necrophiliacs of New Orleans. He felt the bile rise from his stomach and he rolled over onto his side, projectile vomiting all over the floor. He puked until he thought his head might explode, his throat raw and his jaw throbbing. All the while Maya screeched and writhed on the dirty mattress behind him. Sobs racked his body, and he lay there for what felt like an eternity beside a
pool of his own vomit. He stared blankly ahead, listening to the sounds of the infected creature who wanted nothing more than to devour him whole when all he’d ever wanted was to rescue her.

  A loud pounding at the door eventually brought him back to reality. A voice boomed a warning: “Five minutes!”

  It took everything inside of Jack to pull himself up off the floor. He went to the sink and the water trickled out, brown in color.

  Figures, he thought, and turned off the tap.

  He retrieved the burlap bag and stared at it for a few moments before looking back up at the empty shell that was once Maya. He wiped another tear from his eye as he stared at her. He remembered her being so strong and beautiful, but now she was hideous and terrifying. Her eyes were black as coals, her teeth rotted and green, and her face was almost blue, marred by scars and decay.

  “I’ll make this right,” he said to her, eliciting another terrible shriek. “I promise you.” He put the bag back over her head and made his way to the door.

  Jack could feel the bile creeping back up his throat. He swallowed the burn and managed to secure the door behind him. The red lights in the hallway were nauseating and he suddenly felt like a trapped animal. He needed to find Evans and get the hell out of there.

  The guard shot him a dirty look as he exited the hall and reentered the main room. He felt like all eyes in the place were on him, whores and Johns alike, judging him silently as his desperate eyes searched the room for Evans. He spotted him at a table with Miguel, and Layla was draped over him like an accessory. Even she, who had seemed so interested in Jack when he’d first arrived, looked disgusted when she spotted him coming toward the table.

  They all think I just fucked a mort, Jack thought, cursing himself for ever coming here.

  If Evans knew what had been happening to his sister… if he had known about what she was… why wouldn’t he have told him? Jack added betrayal to his growing list of overwhelming emotions and grabbed Evans’ arm when he finally reached the table.