A bandit sat in a little chair in front of the cages, standing guard. He held a hunting knife in his hands, stropping the blade with a piece of leather. He looked completely disinterested with the bounty he was guarding, like he had seen that kind of thing a thousand times before.
The haunting words of the crazy old coot who she stole the cart and the clothes from came back to her: "Women don't want to go over that bridge." At the time, she didn't want to think about the implications of what he meant, but the reality was all too apparent now.
Sarah averted her gaze as she pushed the cart on, not sure if she wanted to scream or throw up. She was extremely thankful that David was hidden in the cart and couldn't see what she was seeing. The sound of the guard stropping his knife grated on her ears as she left the horrific display, and she had to grind her teeth together to stop from doing anything to bring attention to herself.
She crossed the middle of the bridge and a patrolling bandit ahead walked in her direction. He swept his flashlight around and pointed it at her when she came by.
Her heart seized and she thought that he'd seen through her disguise, but then the man laughed at her like a depraved lunatic as he wiggled the light back and forth across her face, taunting her. She twisted her head away and pushed the cart a little faster, just waiting to hear the man come after her. But he continued to laugh as he faded away into the distance.
She didn't dare to look behind her, and before long, she saw the end of the bridge up ahead. The goal was in sight and she focused on it with incredible intensity. She thought about Noah's Ark and what it would be like for her and David, not having to worry about their safety from zombies or bandits or lunatics in schools or cannibals or anything else that filled the mad, apocalyptic world.
The final obstacle on the top of the bridge before it descended down into Durham was a large congregation of bandits sitting around a fire and playing cards. They were all talking and boorishly throwing insults at each other. As she got closer, one of the bandits got a sour look on his face, throwing his cards down on the ground and yelling at another person near him.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he yelled. "You fucking cheated!"
"The hell I did," the second man shot back. "I won fair and square and you fucking know it. And even if I did cheat, you better count your teeth before you talk to me like that again, boy."
The first man stood up, puffing his chest. "I'm not your boy, don't you call me that."
The second man stood up and dropped his cards on the ground while the other men around started to cheer them on.
Before Sarah knew it, fists were flying as she tried to slip by, and one of the men was knocked into her. She lost her grip on the cart and stumbled to the side as another man staggered into the cart.
It rolled forward, teetering dangerously on two of its wheels and threatened to tip over. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched in slow motion, a look of pure horror on her face. It gave another wobble and crashed back down on all four wheels with David still hidden.
She rushed back to it and shoved it out of the way of the brawl. She jogged with the cart for several paces, but everyone in the crowd was too busy fighting or cheering to think twice about her.
She wove the cart past a few abandoned cars and slowed down back to a normal walking pace. She was at the end of the bridge and could see all of Durham in front of her. She scanned the city, trying to find where Noah's Ark might be, but it was too dark to see anything.
There was just one last length of the bridge that she had to descend before she could disappear into the streets below, and there were only two bandits strolling around ahead. It seemed the bandits were more worried about people getting into the city than getting out.
Before she continued on, she looked around to make sure no one was around her, then she asked David if he was still okay. When she heard the all-clear from him, she set off down the final stretch.
When she got near the bottom of the bridge, one of the two remaining bandits walked past her without even acknowledging her, but the second one stared at her. His filthy hair was styled into a mohawk, and he wore a leather vest studded with spikes and a thin bandanna tied around one of his biceps. He shined a flashlight on her and approached her at a brisk pace.
She stopped the cart preemptively and froze in place.
"There you are!" he said. "I've been waiting all damn day for you. Where have you been, you crazy old bastard?"
She kept her head down and didn't say anything.
"What's the matter?" he said. "You really quiet today?"
She was terrified and had no idea how to respond, knowing that speaking at all would be a dead giveaway. She finally moved her head to the side and pretended to scratch her face, ending with a nervous shrug.
The bandit looked in the cart. "Well, let's see what you've got." He reached into the cart and started rifling its contents around.
She held her breath, horrified of what he might find. She lowered an arm to her front, inching her hand toward her gun. He was the last bandit between them and freedom, and the rest of them were all up on the bridge. All she needed was one shot and she and David could run and hide in the night. But her hands were shaking.
He tossed around all the items on the top of the pile and frowned, then he plunged his arm to the bottom.
"What the fuck is this?" he asked, turning his attention back to her.
Her fingers slipped into her cloak and brushed against the butt of the gun.
"Huh?" the man said, trying to get an answer out of her. He turned back to the cart and started tossing everything in it onto the ground. "I said what the fuck's all this junk? It's just a bunch of shit! Is that really the best you can do?" He turned back and approached her. Standing there in that moment, he seemed so much bigger and stronger than her. So much faster. His body was square to her and he was watching her with his full attention. She wrapped her fingers around the gun, but she didn't have the courage to pull it out.
"Huh? Did you hear what I said? What the fuck's the matter with you tonight? You're never this quiet."
Sarah shrugged her shoulders again, then feigned a cough, trying to make it sound as deep as possible.
He walked right up to her and grabbed her cloak. "You bring me shit like this and expect to get a free pass? You do this one more time and you're dead."
Then she let out an unintended cry of horror as he grabbed the side of the cart and shoved it over. It toppled to the ground with a loud crash, all of its contents spilling out.
But David was safe. He may have been roughed up, but he was still hidden underneath the draped black curtain that still covered the underside of the cart.
The bandit froze, hearing her cry as he had shoved the cart. His eyes narrowed on her. "What was that?" he asked. "What did I just hear?"
She cowered on the spot. As he approached her again, she saw David climb out of the cart behind him and scurry away.
The bandit reached out and yanked the hood of her cloak off and she whipped the pistol out and pointed it at him. But he was too quick, and before the gun finished lining up, he had already knocked it out of her hand. She let out a distressed grunt and struggled with him, but he just swept the back of his hand across her face.
It felt like a truck hit her and everything went a little fuzzy.
"Well, look what we have here," he said, smiling.
He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and started dragging her back up the bridge.
"No!" she screamed. She tried to pry herself away, but his grip was too strong. She clawed at his face and nicked him, drawing blood. His smile instantly disappeared and he held her out at arm's length and punched her square in the face. Pain rippled through her head and she felt blood trickle down from her nose. She started to whimper as he dragged her the rest of the way, and she felt her legs give out.
"Come on, you stupid bitch. Get up." He yanked her back up to her feet and carried her up the bridge on his shoulder.
They passed the brawling men by the fire and they all stopped and stared at her, dirty grins spreading across each of their faces. They started to hoot and holler and followed the man carrying her.
"She's a pretty one, ain't she?" one of the men called out.
"I wonder if she tastes as good as she looks," another one said.
She saw the cages full of naked women ahead and she started bawling her eyes out, her heart hammering a million beats a minute. The man sitting guard by the cages grabbed the key out of his pocket and unlocked the one on the left, swinging the door open. The man carrying her threw her inside and she rolled across the hard pavement.
The young brunette and the older white-haired woman shared the cage with her, and whether they were awake or asleep, alive or dead, they paid no attention to her.
The guard slammed the cage door shut but didn't lock it, and all the men stood around watching with perverted eyes. One of them disappeared into the huge green tent on the opposite side of the cages and the rest of the men stared at the tent in anticipation.
Sarah was on her knees, sobbing uncontrollably, not wanting to look at any of them.
The flap of the tent opened and a man emerged from it, bigger and taller than all the rest. Most of the bandits were thin and malnourished, but this one was well-fed with a lot of muscle mass. His head was shaved bald and he wore a huge black beard on his face. His bare chest was grimy and covered in scars. The biggest scar of all stretched over his left eye, and a shiny glass eyeball sat in the socket. He walked with a commanding presence and made his way to Sarah's cage. The other men moved away and kept their heads down when he approached.
He stared down at her without expression. The guard swung the door open for him and he strode inside.
All she could think about was what was about to happen to her. She wanted to pray with all her might that her son was okay, but in that moment she was so terrified of what they were going to do to her that she could only think about herself. Her whole life flashed before her as her chest heaved in and out. Bloody snot ran down her face and she couldn't hold it in anymore and started howling in fear.
The man in front of her looked at the others and they all suddenly turned and went back to what they were doing, leaving the two of them alone. Even the bandit guarding the cages took a walk.
He crouched down and put a hand on her shoulder. It was big and heavy. "There, there, sweetheart," he said soothingly. His voice was deep and rich. "No need to cry. We take real good care of everyone around here."
He put a finger under her chin and gently raised her head. She tried to keep it down, but he had more strength in his finger than she had in her whole neck. She closed her eyes, refusing to look at him.
"Don't cry, it's okay," he cooed. "This is going to be a nice moment for both of us." He ran his hand under her nose, wiping the blood and snot away from it.
"Look at me," he said.
She kept her eyes closed.
His hand left her chin and gently slid down until his fingers were around her throat. He gave her a very gentle but increasingly tighter squeeze. "Look at me."
She opened her eyes at last and saw him for the first time.
A deranged smile was on his face, highlighted by the firelight from nearby, making his glass eye sparkle.
"I'm Jericho," he said. "I'm the boss around here, and I always get the first taste." He reached behind him and drew out a long knife.
She shut her eyes tight, waiting for the worst of it.
He brought the blade up to her face and gently caressed her cheek with the tip of it, just enough to draw blood. A drop trickled down her face and he leaned in and licked it off, going from the side of her chin to the edge of her forehead. He let her blood roll around his tongue, like he was tasting a fine wine, then he smiled at her again with crooked, yellow teeth.
He pulled her onto her knees and removed the cloak from around her shoulders. He held the beads of her necklace between his thick fingers and twirled them around.
"Who was David?" he asked. "Husband? Son?"
He smirked and slipped the blade of the knife under the cord of the necklace and cut it off. He admired it for a moment then stuffed it into the pocket of his black jeans.
"It doesn't matter anymore, slaves don't own any possessions."
He sliced off her blouse next, followed by her bra.
She whimpered with each brush of the blunt end of cold steel against her skin, not wanting to open her eyes and see anything.
"Mmm," he cooed as her breasts came into view. He searched the pockets in her jeans and pulled out the worn paper card with the symbol for Noah's Ark on it.
"How did I guess you were going there?" he said. "Don't you know? There is no Noah's Ark. Just a fairy tale, a figment of someone's imagination. You came here for nothing."
Every word he said stung her and every negative emotion she could feel swirled around in her.
He crumpled the card and dropped it on the ground then shoved her flat on her back.
"This city's mine, and so are you. You'll stay in this cage for the rest of your life. How easy or hard your life will be, depends on your willingness to cooperate."
She turned her head and pressed it against the cold pavement, opening her eyes to look out at the distance. There was a small tent next to her cage and she saw something crouched down behind it, watching from the shadows. It was David.
He watched her with terror on his face, sitting on the ground with his knees pressed against his chin.
No! she screamed in her head. Screamed at him not to look. She frantically spoke to God in her mind and pleaded with Him to make David look away. She wanted anything but for him to see what was going to happen to her.
She shut her eyes tightly as Jericho ripped her pants and underwear off and began defiling her. She felt her body slowly shut down, like her life force was draining away. The whole world turned to gray and the desolate zombie apocalypse looked like a thriving paradise compared to the world she was entering now. When he finally penetrated her, it felt like the final knife stabbing into her heart and twisting, extinguishing her life. She was dead and so was her husband. And even if David escaped the bridge, it wouldn't be long before he was dead, too.
When Jericho was done with her, he left her lying lifeless on the ground just like all the other women around her.
Her head rolled back to the side and she looked at the tent where David was hiding.
But he was gone.
Jericho stood outside of the cage as the guard came back, waiting for his instructions. A few more bandits had lingered nearby.
"She's all yours, boys," Jericho said, then walked back to his tent.
Cheers filled the air as all the bandits came back to the cage and surrounded her.
Her consciousness started to fade away in front of her, and she couldn't even comprehend what was happening anymore. At the end of it all, a group of bandits started beating on her, punching her and kicking her in the chest and head.
Blackness came to her slowly and painfully, but it came with a crushing end.
18
Guardian Angels
As the sunlight pried her eyes open, it broke the horrible news to her that she hadn't died at all. She was still locked in the rusting cage on the bridge surrounded by bandits, nude as the day she came into the world.
She tried to move her limbs to tell if she really was still alive, and when she did, her whole body cried out against her in agony. She was covered in cuts and bruises from the beating that they gave her, and she had already developed bad sores from lying on the ground all night. She tried to roll onto her stomach, but couldn't because the pain was too strong. Even squinting her eyes against the sun hurt her face.
She spent a long time lying on the ground, wincing at the pain, before sitting herself up. She could already feel her skin burning in the sun, and she had no idea what time it was.
The other girls in the cages around her were a little restless. T
hey rolled around or writhed and stared off at nothing, like they were just looking right through whatever they gazed at. The emaciated ones were a terrible sight to behold, their skeleton sticking out against their red, leathery skin. Sarah wondered if they fed those ones, or if the girls had voluntarily refused to eat. She thought morbidly that that would be the most pleasant way she could die to end her suffering.
A few bandits stood outside of the cages, talking to each other. She watched their mouths flap but couldn't hear the words coming out. There were far more bandits out on the bridge now than there were the night before, but the most wretched one of all was nowhere to be seen. That horrible monster that stripped her of her life with his stinking breath rolling down her neck and the unnatural glint of his staring glass eye shining at her.
Now she was a mindless drone, just like the other girls; just like the zombies. She hadn't understood the blank look in the girls' eyes when she arrived on the bridge, but now she did.
A bandit with a giant belly and a bushy blond beard broke her trance as he walked up to the cages carrying three bowls cradled along his arm. He slid one in each cage, letting some of the slop inside splash over the rims of the bowls and onto the pavement.
"Eat up, you whores," he said and walked away.
Sarah watched as some of the girls roused from whatever catatonic position they were resting in and slowly crawled their way to the bowls. The young brunette girl sat in the corner of her cage, staring off in the distance like she hadn't even noticed the bandit give them food.
Sarah wanted to have pity for the girl, but she was so dejected that she couldn't even bring herself to care about anything anymore. Her mind went to her son and wondered about him, but it was just a passing wonder. She found herself not caring about him or his safety the way she used to. To her, he was just gone now, and she felt nothing. She knew he was either dead by now or soon would be, and that none of it mattered anymore.
Zombie Apocalypse Series Books 1-3 (Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set) Page 17
