Catharsis: Outbreak Z: Books 1-4

by Roberts, EM

  Starting the car, Ella smiled over at Jem.

  “You ready for an adventure?” Ella asked.

  “I was born ready.” Jem replied as they took of down the road.

  Chapter 3: Tyranny or Democracy?

  Lt. General Ford Adams smiled when the whip flayed the flesh of the man in front of him. This was the punishment deserters received. Normally, he would have the man shot. Anyone who would desert the army didn’t deserve to live. They also didn’t deserve a second chance. He’d learned long ago when people were given a second chance, they used it as a second chance to try and succeed at the mistake they’d made before.

  “Sir, that’s fifty lashes. Shall I continue?” the officer asked, looking a little sickened by the task at hand. However, he knew better than to protest the man’s punishment.

  “Did I tell you to stop?” Adams gave the officer a stern look, indicating that the man would be in serious trouble should he question Adams ever again.

  “No, sir.”

  “When I want you to stop, I’ll tell you to stop,” he ordered firmly. Really, it was like these grown men were little children and constantly had to be told what to do. He knew the officer didn’t like the duty he’d been given, and that was too bad. It was a part of being in the military.

  “Now, you dirty Mexican, I want you to tell me everything you know about Ella and Parker,” Adams ordered, signaling the officer to step outside of the room. The officer gladly acquiesced.

  “No, I’ll never tell you anything about Miss Ella,” Carlos replied, his face a mask of agony and pain. Adams had to hand it to the young man; he was tough. He’d handled the whipping and a beating before that.

  “You know what we do to deserters. We kill them. They’re cowards. You’re a coward. You’re selfish and only thinking of yourself just like Parker and Ella.” Adams screamed into the young man’s bruised and bleeding face. He pulled his gun from its holster, and in a fit of rage, he shot Carlos point blank in the head, sending the body, careening to the floor. He smiled as he stood over the remains. He couldn’t wait to rub the young man’s death in that bitch’s face.

  He’d been sending out scouts for the last two weeks looking for Parker’s group of misfits. He had to find the missing president. Not finding him wasn’t an option. The entrance to the survival facility was barred by a metal that would withstand a nuclear blast, so the only way to enter was the code—the code only Parker knew. This information he’d gleaned from a reputable source. He knew that bastard, Parker, wouldn’t give the codes willingly.

  “Lt. Adams?” a voice came from the entrance to the tent. He turned to find his second in command, Captain Dan Spignelli standing at the tent’s entrance. The man was dressed impeccably in his uniform and epitomized an officer of the military. Too bad, the man was weak.

  “Yes, Captain. What is it?” he barked. He had no time for cry baby moments, and he sensed this was going to be one of those.

  “Sir, the men are upset with your decision to execute Carlos. The news has already made the rounds.” Spignelli replied, his face awash with worry and concern. Adams knew Spignelli wasn’t on board with his way of doing things. He knew he was going to have to be on guard around the officer. Maybe, he’d have to arrange an accident for the man.

  “Gather everyone together. I’ll make a speech. I’ll remind them of what happens when we don’t band together,” he replied, wiping his hands on a towel.

  A few minutes later, he stood in front of about a hundred men and women, some who were enlisted and others who were tagging along for the protection. Their faces were somber and serious. He knew gossip spread like wildfire, and he was sure most of them knew Carlos’ fate by now.

  “I understand some of you are not happy with the way I dole out punishment,” he stated to the crowd, not yelling but loud enough to be heard.

  “Carlos was punished because he was a traitor and a deserter. I gave him a chance to do the right thing by serving in this military. He repaid me and you by trying to escape the first chance he got. He was questioned about those terrorists, and he would not give up the information. I had no choice but to serve punishment,” Adams explained, as he looked around the crowd.

  “Doesn’t that make us the bad guys?” a voice rang out of the crowd. Adams tried to find its source but couldn’t. He needed to put a stop to this, right now.

  “Do you want to take a hot shower?” He yelled to the crowd.

  A resounding group of people answered “Yes.”

  “Do you want electricity?” He yelled to the crowd.

  Another resounding yes.

  “These things are all possible again once we reach the survival facility. Parker Wallace and Ella Johnson do not want you to have these things. They want to control them. They want things to go back to the way they were before with the President making all the decisions. He is the one who got us into this situation. Do you want that? If you do, then leave—go find them.”

  There was a resounding protest from the group. They all pretty much blamed Parker for the outbreaks and bombings. Adams knew Parker didn’t really have anything to do with either. They’d had intel that a mutated virus had been stolen from a major pharmaceutical company six months before the outbreaks. Parker Wallace hadn’t even been informed of this. No one had. Only a few of the top agency officials were aware of the situation. They weren’t as concerned as they should have been. These people didn’t need to know that. All they needed to know was that Parker Wallace was enemy number one, and his pretty little friend was enemy number two.

  He’d taken extreme satisfaction in burning their little outpost to the ground. As he’d watched the flames shoot high into the sky, he’d remembered the anger and resentment on Ella’s face when she’d met with him. It wasn’t so much her refusal to join the military that irritated him, it was her association with Parker that had cemented his dislike for her. He knew trying to find the two of them was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. There was no way he could be certain of their route. He returned his attention to the crowd.

  “We have to stick together and fight these creatures. When people try to desert, that means they are turning their backs on you—on each and every one of you. Carlos turned his back on you. This means he wanted you to die. Should deserters live so you can die?” Adams passionately asked the crowd.

  “I don’t want to die!” Someone yelled from the crowd.

  As the crowd dispersed, Adams was confident in his speech. He’d given the people something to think about—something to justify his actions. There were like a bunch of sheep just waiting to be herded about. They’d believe anything he fed them. People were so naïve.

  He made his way into his tent. It was time for bed. He needed to get up early in the morning and resume the search. Even if he couldn’t find them, he knew they’d eventually make their way to Yucca Mountain. He just needed to get there first and be waiting for them. He couldn’t wait to put that bitch Ella in her place. He’d torture and kill Parker first while she watched. Then, he’d take his slow sweet time with her. Just the thought of putting the bitch in her place made him hard as a rock.

  He undressed down to his boxers and tee shirt. He was ready to fuck. Just as this thought entered his mind, the entrance to the tent moved and a woman entered. It was a standing agreement between the two of them. She would service him, and he would allow her boyfriend to live and give them a little something to make them feel good. They were both addicts, and he fed it. It was as simple as that.

  She was young, really, but old enough to know how to please a man. In her early twenties, Shelly Jones was used to having sex for payment. She’d confided in Adams that she’d prostituted herself early on after the outbreaks. She was talented; he’d give her that. She had this insane notion that she loved her boyfriend, Will. She loved him enough to allow Adams to fuck her every other night. If one could call that love.

  She came over and stood in front of him. She slid the thin sundress from her shoulders and
bared her nakedness. One of the perks of being a leader was the action it afforded him. The young woman standing in front of him may have been around the block, but she was a fine piece of ass. Her breasts were pert and round and complemented her nice round backside. She was, as some of his officers would say, built like a brick shithouse.

  One of the rules he’d set when she’d come to him with the offer was that she clean up. She had, and he’d upheld his end of the bargain. Her hair was no longer greasy and matted. Once, she’d washed her hair, it’d turned out to be a pretty, caramel color. She certainly wasn’t a model, but she would do.

  “Suck my cock,” he commanded.

  The young woman kneeled before him, pulling his cock from his underwear and placing it in her mouth. She stroked it up and down with her tongue sucking on it as she did this. He gritted his teeth from the pleasure. He wouldn’t give the bitch the satisfaction of seeing how turned on he was.

  He imagined it was that bitch Ella on her knees in front of him. The woman cupped his balls and massaged them while she continued sucking him off. He reached down and shoved her head deeper onto his cock. He heard her gag and smiled. She wouldn’t complain. The one time she’d complained, she’d ended up with a busted lip.

  He’d never married because he couldn’t imagine living with a woman. He’d come close once, but that had ended after she’d realized he wouldn’t be her puppet and allow her to lead him around by the nose. After that close call, he’d relied on prostitutes and women who’d traded sex for promotions and favors. He knew some of his female counterparts had thought him a misogynistic pig, but the truth was there was only one woman he’d ever loved and that was his mother.

  He could feel the cum rising to the tip of his cock and reached down, grabbed the woman by the hair, and pulled her away. He wanted to fuck. He didn’t want to spend himself in her mouth. He’d thought about this all day, and he wasn’t going to let the woman get off that easy.

  “Turn around and bed down,” he ordered, stripping from his boxers and placing a condom on his cock. There was no way he’d fuck this bitch without one. Who knew what kind of disease she might have.

  He leaned over the woman’s ass, and with one hard thrust impaled himself inside of her. He pumped in and out while holding onto her hair. She moaned and grunted as he pounded harder.

  “You like that, don’t you? You like it rough, don’t you,” he growled as he fucked her hard and fast. He could easily imagine she had red-blonde hair and freckles. This made his cock swell even more.

  “Yes, baby, I love it. I love the way you fuck me. Fuck me harder, please,” the woman he imagined to be Ella moaned. He knew she didn’t mean it, but at least she gave a good show.

  With one mighty thrust he came into the woman. He grunted as he did and smiled in satisfaction. He pulled the used condom off of his cock and threw it into the waste container. Grabbing a towel, he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  The woman replaced her sundress while he pulled on his boxers. He walked over to the safe, bent down, and retrieved a small packet. It was cocaine he’d lifted off a couple of prisoners.

  “Here, I’ll expect you again in a couple of days. You’d better make that shit last you, and if I see your boyfriend out on the field-- high, I’ll kill him. You’d better ration it and not give it all to him at once,” Adams instructed, turning his back to the woman.

  The woman took her prize and left in a hurry. She knew better than to hang around or ask for anything else. She was lucky to be alive. Adams walked over to the bed and lay down. Soon, he would have a new partner—one with red-blonde hair.

  Chapter 4: Bartering Time

  Jem pointed out the sign on the side of the road. It was painted on a billboard much like the one Ella and her father had created to advertise their own outpost back in Tennessee. The sign read:

  Need Supplies?

  We Barter!

  One Mile Ahead-On the Right

  Be Warned: We Have Weapons and Will Defend Our Property

  “Hmm, what do you think?” Jem asked, blowing a bubble and silently sucking it back in her mouth much to Amos’ amazement.

  “Well, we could use some dry goods. But, we don’t really have anything to trade.” Ella stated matter of factly thinking of her and Amos’ meager supplies.

  “Oh, I have something to trade,” Jem suggested wickedly.

  “You’re not suggesting …” Ella trailed off helplessly.

  “No, I’m not, but it sure was fun to see your face. Have you always been this uptight?” Jem asked, laughing.

  “Well, I don’t really consider prostitution a laughing matter, Jem.”

  “It’s not, but that’s my way of coping—making jokes. The psychiatrist in me recognizes that.”

  “Well,” Ella asked, “What do you have to trade?”

  “Antibiotics and pain meds. I grabbed them from a pharmacy just in case I needed them on the way,” she replied fishing in her bag and pulling out two commercial-sized bottles, making Ella wonder what else she had in that bag of hers. She’d retrieved it from the truck on their last bathroom break, and now she seemed to be guarding it like Fort Knox.

  “Normally, I’d just give them away out of the kindness of my heart, but the sign did say ‘barter’.” She dropped the medicine back into her bag.

  “I don’t guess it would hurt. I don’t think they would have said they have weapons if they were trying to lure people in,” Ella reasoned with herself. She’d learned she couldn’t really trust anybody these days. It was all about survival, and some people would take drastic measures in that department.

  She looked in the mirror at Amos. She didn’t want to leave him out of the decision. She knew he was uncomfortable around people, and she didn’t want to add any stress to his already disrupted life. But, he seemed to be enjoying himself on this trip and had even warmed up to Jem. The two of them had been singing camp songs for the last several miles, and he’d even let Jem play his game. That said a lot.

  “What do you think, Amos?” Ella asked, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “I sure don’t know, Miss Ella. I trust you. You’re smart, and I know you’ll do what is best for us, but I’d sure like to see if they have a soda pop. I know I had two a couple a days ago, but I think one more might be okay,” Amos replied, excitement in his eyes at the thought of the treat.

  “Okay, well that’s that then,” Ella replied. She drove until she saw another sign indicating a turn to the trading post.

  About a mile down the lane, Elle and her passengers were treated to a setup not unlike the one she and her father had built in Tennessee. Along the side of the road was a fence that had been reinforced to keep visitors out. Unlike her farm, this one had barbed wire along the top of the fence. Eventually, they came to a gate guarded by a man and a woman.

  “Hello there, how are y’all doing today?” Ella smiled, working her Southern charm.

  “Hotter than hell in hell’s kitchen,” the man replied, smiling a friendly but deadly smile. It wouldn’t due to under estimate friendliness.

  “Well, now I was just thinking it’s hotter than a goat in a pepper patch,” Ella quipped, rubbing the sweat off her forehead.

  The man and woman laughed.

  “Seriously, though, we’ll need your weapons. You understand we can’t let you go in with all your weapons. We’ll let you take in one handgun just for your piece of mind,” the man explained.

  “Sounds fair to me,” Ella replied. She handed over one of her two weapons as Jem unloaded her pack of two handguns. The sickle hadn’t drawn any attention, and since neither the man nor the woman said anything about it, Ella didn’t draw any undue attention to it. It would be another weapon if this visit didn’t pan out.

  “I’ll just need to look in your bags and check the trunk to make sure you don’t have any other weapons,” the woman stated, moving forward.

  Ella allowed them to check the trunk and look in both her and Amos’ bag. Jem allowed them the same
courtesy. By the time it was over, Ella had to wonder if the trip was worth it or not.

  “My name’s Ed, and this is my wife Melissa. We’re longtime residents here. Nice to meet you guys,” the man smiled after realizing they didn’t present a threat.

  “Well, Ed, it sure is nice to see a friendly face. My name’s Ella, this is Jem, and the gentleman in the back is Amos. You guys got any pop down there? Amos is in dire need of one.”

  “We sure do. Go on down and Mimi will fix you up.” The woman told Ella as she swung the gate open and allowed them through.

  The trading post was really a farm, and upon viewing it, Ella felt a pain of homesickness. The sprawling ranch house was brick with black shutters. It wasn’t as big as her own home had been, but someone had built small cabins around the acreage. There were animal enclosures and a huge garden growing beside a barn. Off to the side stood a pole barn that had been converted into a store. These people were serious about their business, but Ella and her father had also been serious. It could be taken away in an instant.

  She pulled the car into the area designated visitor parking, the gravel crunching under the tires. She briefly wondered who’d had time to get a load of gravel for a parking lot. Ella climbed out and waited for Amos to follow. She knew he looked menacing due to his size and muscles, and she was suddenly glad he was with her. At least his appearance was daunting.

  Jem slung her bag over her shoulder and led the way inside the store. Just like any other country store, a bell jingled signaling their arrival.

  “Hello there! How you folks doing?” a small white haired lady piped up from behind a counter. She looked like she’d stepped straight from a children’s fairy tale. Her hair was snow white and pulled into a bun atop her head. She was wearing a pair of tiny glasses perched on her nose that matched the rest of her tiny person. She was barely five foot tall and looked like she weighed around 90 or 100 pounds. She was as small as Amos was large.