I reached out and picked up a small frame that sat on the corner of the desk and wiped the glass with the edge of my palm. A man with laughing eyes smiled at me from the photo, he was decked out in his dress blues and a young woman with long blond hair, wearing a mint colored sun dress hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. They were a beautiful couple. I suddenly remembered my dad dressed in his fancy uniform as we headed out to one of his officer’s balls when I was sixteen. I’d laughed and tried to get him to change his mind about taking me as his date, but his eyes twinkled as he handed me a corsage. Are you kidding me? I’ll be the luckiest guys at the ball, he had said with a wink. I knew he was just trying to make me forget that I’d been stood up for my junior year prom … but I loved my dad all the more after that night.
I gently sat the picture back down where I’d found it on the desk, blinked back tears, and got to work. I searched through all the papers that were scattered on the desk, pulled file folders out of drawers and discarded the majority of them because they had nothing to do with what had happened two years ago. I found a whole lot of nothing. I grabbed the waste basket and emptied it out on the desk and un-crumbled several sheets of paper. Random messages, random papers. I found a sheet of paper with the words “infected”, “shoot to kill”, and “no known cure” scribbled on it like someone had hastily written down the notes with a slightly trembling hand as the situation began to sink in. I slammed the paper down on the desk and walked around it with my hands on my hips. What had I exactly thought I was going to find in the office of the officer in charge of some random army base in North Carolina? A detailed explanation of what had happened the days leading up to the dead taking over the world? I snorted in disbelief at my stupidity. I walked over to the blinds covering the window and peeked through a slate, barely bending it and noted how the sun was beginning to sink behind the tree line. I needed to head back to my little spot in the woods, maybe rethink what I could do—what I should do.
I was standing in the center of the generously sized office when something else struck me as odd. Aside from the fact that there were no dead or undead in the entire office building, and even though the office I was sitting in must have belonged to whoever was in charge of the base … the office was still abnormally large. There was one thing I remembered from all the bases my dad had taken me to visit ... of all the admiral’s and sergeant’s offices … the army didn’t do large or fancy when it came to work spaces. I twirled around slowly and took in the office with a new perspective. The office was easily two times larger than any other office I’d ever been in, and I’d been in several. I furrowed my brow, wondering why I was even wasting time thinking about it, why it even mattered, but I couldn’t shake that odd feeling that I was missing something. I walked over to the far wall. The entire wall was one huge, built-in bookshelf. I ran my finger along the spines of the books, my brain still not quite knowing where I was going with my thoughts, when I shrugged and wiped a bead of sweat from my brow. When I spied a copy of Watership Down on the top shelf, I stretched up on my tip toes to grab it to take back with me to camp.
“Keep your hands up. Don’t move,” A voice said gruffly from behind me. I couldn’t help it, it had been so long since I’d heard a voice, so long since anyone had spoken to me … I gasped and swung around in utter shock. “I said not to fucking move,” The man growled out as he pointed his rifle in my face. My hand immediately twitched and made a move to grab for my gun. I just barely stopped myself. It wouldn’t do any good, he would shoot me point blank before I ever touched the gun strapped to my leg. Fuck! I’d been so careless. “Turn back around and put your hands up on the bookshelf,” he barked. I swallowed slowly and turned even slower, making sure I didn’t make any more sudden movements. When I placed both my hands on the shelves in front of me, the man walked over and placed the tip of his gun in the back of my neck. My legs quivered in outrage and humiliation.
“Give me your weapons,” he ordered. I stiffened and a real thread of fear slid through me. He nudged me with the rifle and repeated his command.
“Fuck you,” I whispered hoarsely. It was barely audible.
“What was that?” he asked, incredulity coloring his voice. I swallowed and cleared my throat.
“I said, fuck you. I’m not giving up my weapons,” I growled. The man stood still for only a moment before he leaned in and whispered harshly into my ear.
“Little girl, you have NO choice, you realize that … right? You can die with your misguided sense of pride, or you can give me your weapons, and maybe live to see another day.” Unexpectedly, tears threatened. I had only cried three times over the past two years—once the day after my dad had died, once after I’d buried him, and once after a particularly harrowing trip into town to scavenge for supplies. I had to do horrible things that day and see even worse things before I made it back to the cover of my camp. I wasn’t about to allow this douche bag to make me cry. I gritted my teeth and grunted my surrender.
I reached down with my right hand and very carefully and slowly unstrapped the holster that held my handgun.
“That’s it … nice and easy,” the man muttered. I lifted my hand and held it out to the guy with the gun pointed at my neck.
“Now unhook the M4,” he said. I clenched my jaw and once again removed my weapon with slow and methodical precision. I had more weapons back at camp, but it pissed me off that if I were to get out of this alive, some asshole with a G.I. Joe complex was going to be walking around with my dad’s weapons. “Any more weapons on you?” he asked, with almost a relieved grunt.
“The recon blade on the desk. That’s it,” I lied, smoothly. No need for him to know about the small blade strapped to my thigh beneath my loose cargo pants. If he patted me down he’d find it, but I was going to take my chances. I heard him walk slowly over to the desk and retrieve my knife from its surface. I seethed. I loved that blade.
Moaning and growls, too close by for comfort, echoed in the room around us. I flinched and reached for my gun before I realized I didn’t have it on me. It was the first time in over two year it wasn’t strapped to my leg.
“Don’t worry, they just passed by the window,” the guy said in a semi whisper close to my ear. “Put your hands behind your back,” he ordered. My entire body tensed, but with no other choice, I complied. Ropes bound my wrists behind me and the next thing I knew black fabric was secured tightly around my eyes as a blind fold. Pure, unadulterated fear crashed through me and a spike of adrenaline coursed through my veins. I threw my head back and made a last ditch effort to wrench myself free … maybe I would get lucky and the ass wipe would be smart enough not to take a shot and call down all the zombies on top of us. In my head, the idea was so much smarter than in reality. Here I was with my hands tied behind my back, blindfolded, and virtually weaponless, making a run for it … to where? Out into the nest of zombies lurking just outside?
“Shit.”
I heard the muffled curse come from behind me just before I was knocked to the ground with my captor landing on top of me. I tried bucking, kneeing, biting, and head butting before I started to feel the strain on my muscles. The guys was no light weight and he was using his entire body to try and wrestle me to the floor. I grunted when he finally managed to flip me over and put his knee in the center of my back. All the air in my lungs left in me in a whoosh. “What the hell is wrong with you?” the man huffed in between pants. “You are fucking crazy,” he growled.
“You ain’t seen crazy yet,” I snarled. He leaned more of his weight on me and breathed next to my face. “If you try that again or keeping making so much goddamn noise, I am going feed you to the zombies myself, you understand?” I tried to smirk and blow off his threat, but that was hard to do since my cheek was squished into the dirty floor. Instead, I nodded sharply. “Good. Now I’m going to help you up. Don’t try anything stupid.”
When he pulled me off the ground, he snagged me by my arm and brought me close to his side with a gu
n pressed into my side. We started walking and I could only assume it was back into the main area of desks and offices. After a few minutes of being pushed, pulled, and prodded into different directions, but never leaving the building, I began to wonder if we were going in circles.
“This the only way you could get a date? Tying up girls and making play some twisted version of musical chairs with you?” I hissed between my teeth. “You hear music in your mind? Or little voices, maybe?” I smirked. The guy tugged roughly on my arm and then we stopped.
“You are such a pain in the ass, you know that?” he snarled. “No way in hell I’d take you on a date … even if voices told me to,” he grumbled. I felt him move around me as I stood there thinking what else to say, trying to keep him talking, and wondering what he had planned for me. I heard him grunt as he moved and then I heard a click, followed by a scrapping sound. “Move slowly forward to the stairs. We’re going down.” He gave me a small shove and I just barely kept my balance.
“As soon as I get my hands untied, I’m going fuck you up,” I whispered fiercely as my stomach bubbled and rolled in a sickening dread. Going down? Where the hell was he taking me? His chuckle did nothing to alleviate my fears. I took a tentative step forward and found the first step down. My captor kept a grip on my arm as we made our way lower and lower. My heart beat faster with every step we took and it was by sheer will power alone that I didn’t whimper in fear of the unknown.
“Alright, stop right there for now,” he said. I heard him open something on a wall nearby and it sounded like he was pushing some sort of buttons. A beep echoed in my brain and it took me a very long moment to recognize the sound. Clangs and clicks, followed by the loud screech of metal directly in front of us, overwhelmed me and I stumbled slightly, my legs wobbling in shock and anxiety. My captor, almost gently, put an arm around me to keep me standing. A gust of air fanned my face and a sound I never thought I’d hear again besieged me—the sound of a lot of living humans—talking. The sounds came to an abrupt halt as my captor, with his arms still around me, walked us forward. More clicks and clangs followed our entry as the metal behind us swung shut.
“What’s going on, Jude? A low, rumbling voice spoke out.
“Found her snooping through things on the base, Sir,” he answered from next to me. I turned my head in the direction of the sound of several people whispering among themselves and strained to hear everything I could.
“Well, for Christ’s sake … untie her already,” he barked. Jude, presumably the name of my captor, jumped to do as he was told. My blind fold came off first and I blinked several times, trying to adjust my eyes to the unfamiliar, overly-bright florescent lighting hanging overhead. My hands were untied quickly and I rubbed the raw spots around my wrists.
“Am I a prisoner?” I asked sharply as I stared directly into the eyes of the man who I assumed to be the group’s leader. He was probably in his mid-thirties and his eyes were shrewd as he regarded me with interest and a hint of amusement shining in his blue eyes.
“Prisoner? Not at all. I’m sorry if you were under that impression,” he said apologetically.
“What impression was I supposed to be under when Jude here stole my weapons, tied me up and blind folded me? That I was an honored guest?” I sneered. The guy lifted a brow, but didn’t apologize for anything.
“We have to be careful. You’ve seen how it is up there yourself, you surely know that the zombies aren’t the only threat we face now,” he said in place of “we’re sorry”. Even though I wanted to remain angry, I couldn’t … these people did have to be careful.
“I understand,” I grumbled. “But, that doesn’t mean I don’t want my father’s weapons back or that I’m not pissed off,” I hissed. He cracked a huge grin and walked over to me. I took a step back and he stopped where he was.
“How many are in your group?” he asked quietly. We could offer them a place here as well. I shook my head and clenched my jaw.
“It’s just me,” I mumbled. A shadow fell across his eyes, a shadow of understanding and loss.
“How long ago did they die?” he asked gently. I raised my eyes to meet his direct, probing, blue stare.
“I’ve been alone since the first day,” I ground out. His eyes widened just fractionally before he looked at me like he wanted to study me under a microscope.
“What’s your name, girl?” he asked. I stiffened and squared my shoulders before I spoke.
“Melody Carter, daughter of Major John M. Carter of the United States Army,” I answered proudly. The man held his hand out to me.
“Nice to meet you, Melody.” I smiled and went to stick my hand out until I realized I was still caked in all kind of gore and stench. I glanced up from my hand to the face of the man now looking at me with his brow raised. I held my hands up and shrugged.
“Nice to meet you as well, Major, but you probably should hold off on that handshake for now,” I grimaced when I realized how much of a mess I really was. I seriously stunk. His eyes widened and it was my turn to smirk. “I saw the picture on your desk.” I mentioned by way of explanation. He was the same man in dress blues I’d seen earlier … but he looked like he had aged ten years instead of two. The major’s smile vanished and his eyes frosted over. I knew that look … I’d felt the emotion behind it as well. The look of heartache and loss. I met his eyes and nodded my head once, my eyes mirroring his own burning gaze. He nodded back stiffly and cleared his throat.
“Jude,” he barked. Jude stiffened next to me. “Take our guest to one of the empty rooms and show her where she can go to get cleaned up,” he ordered as he turned around, dismissing me.
“I have questions, Major” I interjected, my hand clenched at my side. Who cared about getting clean, when these people might be able to answer some of my questions? He paused and turned to answer.
“I’m sure you do, but they can wait a few more hours … besides, you smell like you’ve been rolling around in zombie guts,” he grimaced. Jude chuckled before the Major and I both gave him a death stare. I was clenching my jaw so hard it began to ache.
“Fine,” I muttered. The Major nodded and turned on his heel. I glanced over at Jude and put my hands on my hips. He returned my stare with a smirk and I made my personal mission to knock that smirk off of his face just one time.
“Follow me,” he said stiffly as he turned on his heel and began walking briskly across the room. I took a moment to take in my surroundings before I followed. The common room was large and there were probably twenty people milling about doing various tasks. Some looked like officials or military personnel and a few looked like civilians. The room had several hallways leading off of it … one in the direction the Major had went, one that Jude had taken, which I could only assume led to sleeping quarters, and one leading off a different direction. I had to jog to catch up to Jude.
I glanced at Jude from the corner of my eye as we walked quickly down a long corridor. His jaw was clenched and his eyes hooded as he led me along to my room. He looked angry … maybe he was upset he’d gotten the babysitting gig. I smiled at that. The jackass deserved so much worse. We rounded a corner and he stopped outside of a door at the very end of the hallway. He opened the door and motioned for me to go inside. I walked into the room and turned around in a circle. The room was sparsely furnished with a cot for a bed and a single chest of drawers. A small table and chair acted as a desk area and there was one tiny closet. It looked like the Ritz Carlton in my eyes.
Alright, let me show you where you can shower and then I’ll get out of here. I barely picked my jaw up off of the floor at the promise of a shower and Jude was striding down the hall and around the corner. I barely registered the number of my room—107—before I had to run to catch up with him.
The shower area was just as glorious as the room. I stood in the doorway staring at the showers afraid to move and break the illusion. Jude snorted and pushed past me to open a closet at the end of the room where rows of identical pants and tops hun
g. Towels were also stacked on the top shelf.
“Just leave your clothes next to the door and someone will pick them up for you.” And just like that, he was gone. I smiled as I ran over to the closet. I swear to god, it felt like I was staring at clearance rack at the mall—heaven. I grabbed a soft v-neck tee shirt and a pair of pants that resembled yoga pants … with wide legs and a drawstring wait, but they were made of a sturdier material, and inhaled the scent of them through my nostrils. They even smelled fresh and clean. Like a bullet out of a gun, I yanked off my filthy clothes and made a run for the shower stall. I wouldn’t have cared if twenty people were watching, or if I had to shower with others … I was not going to miss every blessed second of running water I could soak up before I got yanked back to reality. I sat my clean clothing, towel, and the knife no one had found on me, on a bench just outside of my stall, before jumping into the shower and turning the knobs. I was expecting the cold, but I still shivered as it spurted out … I turned it up full blast and much to my shock, the water was hot.
“Thank you, Jesus,” I moaned as the water cascaded over me. I don’t know how long I stood like that, but I know I my fingers were pruning up before I had the sense to snap out of my ecstasy and use the small bar of soap and shampoo to actually wash my body and hair. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, spending extra time to work some conditioner into my mass of tangles. My little bubble of vacation burst abruptly when I heard a sound just outside of the showering area. Someone was right around the corner where the towels and clothes were kept. I left the water running and tip-toed out of the shower to grab my knife off of the bench. Something shuffled and I heard the sound of a gun being loaded … the unmistakable sound of a magazine being slid into place. Maybe if I acted quickly, I’d still hold the thread of surprise … with that thought in mind, I jumped ran around the wall with a scream of rage. No way in hell I was going to die in a shower after surviving alone in the woods for over two years.
State of Decay (Omnibus (Parts 1-4)) Page 5
