Least Likely To Survive
Page 16
Our table fell silent after that statement; even Chloe caught Austin’s undertones and halted her flirtation. I looked up, and caught Jack’s eye. We didn’t need to voice the significance of what Austin had said, or how each of us was struggling with the same demons. I half-smiled at him, and he returned my smile in kind. It was ironic that it took the collapse of society for me to find a kindred spirit.
We finished our meal with little more than polite small talk, disposed of our trays and headed out to the roof. As we stepped out into the glaring light of the mid-day Texas sun, I looked over the ledge and saw a row of high-powered rifles lined up like you would see at a carnival game. I got closer and peered over the ledge, and was immediately floored at the sight of hundreds of zombies milling about in the parking lot below. They were about a hundred yards out, but still the nearness of them was unsettling. My stomach immediately lurched as the realization of the second part of our training today hit me. We were using the infected as target practice.
“Um, are we about to do what I think we are?” I asked, knowing that I would despise the answer, but needing to hear it out loud nonetheless.
Austin turned back to us, nodded at me and addressed the group as a whole. “Alright, now we are going to practice marksmanship.” He turned and pointed at the crowd below, “There are the infected, and given the opportunity, they will kill you without a second thought, so it’s crucial you all put aside any misgivings you may have about killing them.” He looked pointedly at me as he said this, and I knew he was directing that part at me. He must have seen the disdain engulfing my face. I couldn’t help it though; I knew he was right, but still the idea of just picking them off sickened me. I could accept killing them when my life was threatened, but knowing that they were still people, and no immediate threat to me at the moment seemed somehow wrong.
I watched as the other members of our group, including the cute little kids, step forward and take their places at each of the rifles, stopping for further direction. I almost threw up at the sight of those beautiful and innocent little girls holding onto those shiny black handles. It reminded me of the pictures we all were constantly faced with in our news feed online of children soldiers throughout Africa and the Middle East. Wrong; this was all wrong, this whole fucking world was wrong, and I didn’t want any part of it.
“Hey, I know.” Jack’s soft words cut through my disgust, and I was pulled from my need to bolt. He grabbed my chin and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Don’t, Angie. Don’t run. I know this is fucked up, hell, even I see it’s wrong, but what other choice do we have?” I turned and looked into his eyes. I searched his face for any sign of hesitancy, but found none. The desperation and angst over having to accept this as our fate and our mission was clear in the way the light dimmed from his eyes, and that beautiful mouth crumbled into a frown.
I couldn’t take it anymore. This was some sick shit, and I couldn’t be a part of it. Jack was wrong; we did have a choice, we always had a choice, and fucked if I was going to keep letting someone else make it for me. As I stared into his broken expression, I felt all of my anger and rage bubble to the surface. I nearly spit my words at him through narrowed eyes. “Fuck that, there is always a choice, and I’ve made mine.” With that I yanked my chin from his hands and ran back across the patio, with Ty, Chloe, Jack, Austin and all the others staring after me in disbelief.
In my haste, I didn’t miss Nancy’s comment on my departure. “I guess some people aren’t strong enough to fight for survival.”
I ran through the restaurant, and out into the corridor. Stopping to catch my breath, I looked around in my haste, trying to figure out where I should go. Tears had started to sting my eyes and blur my vision, and reading the signs became somewhat impossible. Who was she to judge me? She didn’t know the first fucking thing about me, or what I had been through. A part of me wanted to go back there and shove her off the roof and let the zombies have her. But the sane part of me knew that was wrong, and argued we should go back and just knock a few of those horse teeth loose from her fake smile.
Making a left, I started to run blindly down the hall, not really sure where I was going, but needing to get away. Finally I spotted an empty little concession stand off in a corner, and darted for it as fast as my flip flops would carry me. I couldn’t be sure, but thought the sign read: ‘Bob’s Brats’, or something equally as ridiculous, but was too lost in my rage to really take notice.
I hauled myself over the counter, Olympic hurdler style, and dove through the door in the back of the stand. I almost ripped it from the hinges as I pulled it open and threw myself into the little storage closet. Now that I was finally alone, I ran over to the far wall, and started to cry in earnest as I crumbled to a ball on the floor. Sniffling and wailing; the events of the last few days all fell on me at the same time, and I wondered if there were even enough tears in the world to shed over the countless lives that had been destroyed by powers we allowed to rule our lives, and our world.
I sat there, holding my knees to my chest, just for something to anchor me to the floor as I wept and wept. I didn’t remember a time when I had cried like that, and had to wonder if perhaps a lifetime of sucking it up had finally caught up to me.
None of this was right, and certainly none of this was fair. The picture in my head of that cute little girl with her pigtails, and purple and yellow floral sundress gripping that giant assault weapon had seriously pushed me over the edge. This wasn’t my America; this surely can’t be what our parents and our ancestors had intended when they devised all the laws that were supposed to keep us safe, and all the sciences that were assumed to improve our lives, and us as a whole. How could they have possibly known that for all our good intentions, we paved our own road of destruction?
My ribs ached from the strength of my sobs, and my head began to throb. I was still crying so hard, I didn’t notice Jack come in and close the door silently behind him. I didn’t notice him until I felt his arms wind their way around me, and he pulled me into his chest. I let him pull me and rested my hot and tear stained cheek on his chest as I continued my sob fest.
“Shhh, Shhhh, it’s going to be okay,” he said as he rocked me.
Sniffling and swallowing down another hiccup, his words just made me angrier. “How the fuck do you know?! Nothing is okay, and it will never be again!”
I felt him breathing as he tightened his grip around my back, and his fingers digging gently into skin. I had to admit it was nice to be held, but I didn’t want him to touch me if he agreed with the rest of them. I had to remember that in the end, it was still me alone, and everyone else stood on the other side of the line. Although blurry, I knew I couldn’t just stand across those lines with the rest of the sheep in the world. No, I would stand alone and support what was right, and what was decent, and all the other naïve and beautiful ideas that had long been lost to the world.
How long had I been just another cog in the corporate wheel? When was the last time I did or said or wore something not because I was told to, but because I wanted to? When was the last time I stood for what I knew to be right and just, knowing that I would be cut down, but would go down righteous nonetheless? Longer than I honestly wanted to admit. Well not anymore. No sir, this was the apocalypse, and I would be damned if I was going to stand around still blindly following the dirty and the dishonest as they led me into Hell.
I chose that moment to direct my anger at Jack, although I knew he didn’t really deserve it. I pulled back, and glared all of my hate at that angelic face. “This shit is sick, and I didn’t live through abusive, Heroin-riddled parents and their drug dealer buddies to lie down and fall in line.” I let him see exactly how toxic the whole idea was to me. I had tossed my glasses aside when I had sat down, so I couldn’t really see him all that clearly, but the change of his expression was clear enough. I watched as his eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched in reaction to my words. I knew the shock he felt at my admission, but didn’t give a shit.
“Fuck your sorry. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re sorry I had a shitty childhood!” I took a deep breath before continuing my tirade. “I didn’t tell you for sympathy; I said it so you would understand that I can’t allow someone else to control my actions.” I stopped, not really sure how to get my point across. I knew I should chose my words with more care, but the verbal vomit just kept flowing. “I don’t expect you and your perfect life with all your fans and your fame and your money to understand what it’s like to be beaten down time and time again,” I put so much ugly hate and acid that had been brewing in my veins into my words; I immediately regretted them.
Jack sat back, and for a moment I thought fire was actually going to erupt from his nostrils as rage overtook his features. “Fuck you. You don’t know the first fucking thing about me and have no right to make assumptions.” He leaned away from me, releasing me completely, and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, which he lit and inhaled deeply. I knew then I had hit below the belt. He was right, and I was a jackass for taking it all out on him.
He blew out a giant arc of smoke before speaking again, his tone heavy with the low growling of barely contained rage. “I’m well aware of the general misconceptions people make about me, but God help me, I thought you were different. Apparently I was wrong.”
His words stung worse than a swarm of bees. I deserved it though. He was just lobbing my blows right back at me, and rightly so. Still, I had a point to make.
“Look,” I started slowly, trying to figure out the best way to vocalize my thoughts without exploding again. “I get it, I get that the infected are the enemy, and it’s us or them, but putting assault weapons in the hands of children? What the fuck is next? Is this what we’ve become? If so, I don’t want any part of it. Maybe I’m being childish and naïve, or whatever, but this is not my war, and I refuse to become just another soldier in someone else’s battle.” I had started out calmly enough, but felt the acid creep into my voice by the time I was finished. I couldn’t really help how I felt.
He turned and looked at me, stubbing the cigarette out into the cement below us. “I know. I feel it too. It’s sick, and I hate it, but don’t take it out on me. I’m on your side.” The fire had gone out in his eyes and his whole body screamed compassion and understanding at me. How could I possibly be mad at that?
My lip started to tremble again, and I felt big, fat alligator tears begin to slide down my cheeks. At this rate I would dry and crack as apparently every last drop of moisture in my body was going to keep falling from my eyes. He didn’t say anything else as he lifted his hand and started to wipe away the tear that was mid-fall.
“Rough childhood, huh?”
Sniffle. “You could say that.”
He smiled at me. “Fuck, I’ve never met anyone as infuriating and as headstrong as you. You really don’t give up, do you?”
“I try not to,” I said as I leaned my head into his hand and closed my eyes, savoring the cool feel of his calloused fingers on the heat of my face.
My eyes were still closed, so I didn’t see him lean in until I felt his lips brush mine. I jumped for a split second out of surprise before my heart started to race. His lips were so soft I couldn’t help but wonder what brand of Chapstick he wore. My restraint broke at the contact, and I started to kiss him back with earnest. I parted my lips, inviting him to do the same. I could feel the hair on his face scratching against my skin, but damned if I didn’t care. He opened his mouth with mine; deepening the kiss. I moaned my pleasure at the feel of his tongue at my lips, as if asking for entrance. I darted mine out to greet his, and felt the hand not cupping my cheek reach to the back of my head and tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. “Fuck, I’m making out with Jack Jones.” I wanted to burst out laughing at the absurdity of my thoughts during such a serious moment.
I didn’t have a chance to muse any further, as he started to pull away. “Damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“
I shushed him with a finger to his mouth. I didn’t want to hear him apologize, or tell me he didn’t mean to kiss me, and that it was an accident. My ego just couldn’t handle that; not from him. Not now. “It’s okay, I get it,” I said with a smile I didn’t feel, and knew didn’t reach my eyes.
“But-“He started to say, but I shook my head at him, cutting him off once more. I didn’t want to hear how kissing me was a mistake, and hear him promise it would never happen again.
“I’ll stay one more day,” I began, as I reached down and picked my glasses back up. “But then I’m gone, with or without the rest of you.” I left no room for response as I stood and silently walked out the door, into the concession stand, and hopped back over the counter. I didn’t look back as I turned right and headed down the hall, in the opposite direction of the shooting range. I also didn’t look back to see if Jack was behind me.
Chapter 14: Eavesdropping.
I didn’t know where I was going; I just kept wandering around aimlessly. “Fuck! I can’t believe I just did that!” I shook myself at my stupidity as I started walking faster. “I kissed Jack! How the fuck could I be so stupid!?” I kept mumbling this to myself as I went; turning down one nondescript corridor after another.
We were friends, and now things were going to be weird and uncomfortable and it was probably best if I didn’t take him with me, or the kids for that matter. That one kiss would be hanging over our heads for the rest of our lives, however short they may be. It wasn’t a matter of not liking it, but I knew, I knew it was a terrible idea that would undoubtedly open doors that were better left locked and sealed. Hell, the feelings I had for him were better left in a box, padlocked in another box, where they would grow dusty and moldy with time, and be forgotten. It would be better that way, I was sure of it. He couldn’t possibly have feelings for me; guys like him just don’t fall for girls like me. Ever. It just doesn’t happen. So I knew that leaving this can of worms open would just invite thoughts of longing and unrequited whatever, and all sorts of things that I just couldn’t handle at the moment. It’s the fucking apocalypse and raging hormones just weren’t on the agenda.
Lost in my monologue and angst as I was, I had forgotten to pay attention to where I was. I stopped and looked around, realizing I was back to the first level and it was deserted. I must’ve been somewhere near the theater we had been in that morning, as the banners swaying above my head looked mildly familiar, what with their sunny disposition, announcing the pride of victories past, but it was lost on me. I turned another circle, and decided I was good and lost.
“Fucking perfect,” I muttered to myself as I headed to the nearest doorway, thinking that locating someone who could put me back on the right path was my best option.
I grabbed a nondescript door on the left, and slowly pulled the heavy bastard open. Ducking my head in first, I looked around and found another hallway behind it. It was a small hall, with a few doors scattered on either side, none of which were labeled or gave any clues as to where I was or where I was going.
Taking a deep breath, I started down the hall, and inspected each door, trying to figure out which was the best bet. Out of frustration, I gave up trying to decipher which door would take me somewhere; I grabbed a handle on the left and turned it, slowly pulled the door open.
Sticking my head through, I glanced around and was somewhat surprised to find myself in a dark area which resembled the backstage of the theater. Just as I was about to give up and pick another door, I heard voices coming from the stage.
“Good, they can tell me where the fuck I am,” I muttered, pleased with myself and my amazing navigational skills. I started walking slowly, so as to avo
id crashing into anything in the dark, and paused when I got close enough to make out the voices. I could hear Ian, and a few other people I didn’t recognize, but one did sound an awful lot like the Doctor who had examined me when I got here.
“The experiments are failing and we’re putting everyone here at risk by continuing them!” I heard Dr. Fields say pleadingly.
Now this caught my attention, and the busybody in me just couldn’t resist getting a little closer. I peeked around the curtain to see the Dr., Ian, and a couple of really important-looking military personnel standing around, apparently arguing. I crouched low behind the curtain, and listened as intently as I could.
“We need to exterminate the subjects and focus on survival,” Dr. Fields continued, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.
“Absolutely not,” Ian said as he paced to the end of the stage, arms clasped behind his back. “The recent test results were inconclusive, and that’s enough to warrant further testing.” He turned around as he finished his sentence and glared death rays back at Dr. Fields. The two official looking men didn’t say anything in response, just frowned as they studied papers that were laid out over the table.
Dr. Fields’ shoulders hunched in defeat and she removed her glasses, setting them on the table before rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Ian, it’s dangerous to continue. We’re putting the lives of every person here at risk by keeping the infected so nearby, even as contained as they are. And for what? We’re no closer to figuring out how and why the infected are mutating, or what those mutations will become. There are simply too many invariables!” She just about shouted the end as she pounded her fist on the table.