This Dying World (Book 2): Abandon All Hope

by James D. Dean

  He turned away, proceeding down the hall to wherever it was he disappeared too when he left us alone. He whistled happily as he slowly strolled away, carrying the tune of I’m a Little Teapot perfectly as he faded into the darkness.

  “Leave my family alone!” I erupted with a scream that left me hoarse.

  “Maybe, Mr. Foster,” he said as the tumbler of the lock turned. “Maybe.”

  Chapter 36

  I couldn’t speak for the rest of the day as a ball of horror sat like lead in the pit of my stomach. Tanya and Jeff tried their best to pull me from the terror that had gripped my thoughts, but they failed.

  He knew about Katie and my family. He’d played me, knowing the entire time they were still alive. He let me think I had the upper hand, but I was just a puppet with Professor pulling my strings and making me dance for him.

  Despite the immense pain, I’d pulled my knees to my chest and curled into a ball on the cot, rocking myself back and forth as fear ripped my soul into tiny ribbons. I had no idea if he knew where they were or if he had his worker bees out looking for them.

  I was a few hours away from the group when I crashed, I thought. Maybe that was enough to keep them safe.

  I ran that entire night through my head, looking for any detail that might lead him to where my family sought refuge.

  The map! I suddenly remembered as terror filled tears flowed down my cheek. Jesus Christ I drew a map!

  My entire body numbed as I realized that I might have just led these psychos straight to my daughter. My chest tightened as the panic set in, my breathing became more and more labored with each passing second.

  No, please God no! Keep her safe! Keep them all safe! I prayed…no, begged any higher power that had not already turned their back on this world. Warmth spread across my face as intense dizziness struck me down. I felt myself falling sideways until my head hit the paper thin pillow with a heavy smack.

  “Dan!” I heard Tanya call out to me. “You’re having a panic attack! Listen to my voice. You need to calm down and breathe. You have to let it work its way out. You’re too hurt to go through a severe attack like this. Just breathe, in through the nose and out your mouth.”

  “I…can’t!” I squeaked.

  “Yes you can!” she commanded. “Just one thing at a time, and everything else will follow. Breathe when I tell you. Inhale. Now exhale. Inhale, exhale.”

  I did what I was told. Air moved in and out of my lungs, quickly at first, but slowing over time. The gut wrenching panic waned slightly, but the overwhelming fear remained.

  “Good,” she said in a motherly voice. “Keep it up, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.”

  I opened my eyes, looking over toward her soothing voice. To my surprise she was on her feet, standing against the bars with Jeff at her side. They both pressed themselves against the bars as if trying to squeeze their way into my cell.

  “You’re standing,” I forced out through somewhat labored breaths.

  “Yeah,” she laughed nervously. “I’ve been able to for a little over a day, but only for short spurts. I thought he was going to kill you for sure. When you started seizing up, I wanted to help.”

  “You did,” I said. “Thank you. I don’t want to be rude, but I want to be alone with my thoughts for a while.”

  “Do what you’ve got to do,” Jeff said as he helped Tanya back into her uncomfortable cot. “Talk if you need to though, okay?”

  “Will do,” I said, laying down and turning away from everything and facing the wall again.

  I lay still for hours, pretending to sleep when lunch was brought in. Whoever it was that served as that day’s waiter did not bother to enter my cell. She swore under her breath, having a few unintelligible words with my neighbors before leaving.

  I closed my eyes, terror still surging through my body like tidal flows. The intensity of my emotions the previous night and the following afternoon took its pound of flesh and left me drained and exhausted. As the couple across the hall finished their meal, my mind slipped off into nightmare filled unconsciousness.

  **********

  Muffled screams filled my groggy mind as the nightmares that filled my sleep gave way to the horrors of the waking world. As the dreams faded, strangled pleas filled my ears until I was finally fully awake.

  I opened my eyes, rolling around on my other side and wincing as my injuries joined forces with the muscle stiffness from sleeping on a thinly cushioned metal slab.

  Electric lights hummed above my head as the room bathed in a luminescence I did not realize our cells could achieve. Apparently Professor Jakey kept us mostly in the dark at night on purpose. Of course, he was also an asshole. And assholes tend to do asshole-ish things.

  As my eyes tried to focus to the brighter light, I saw Tanya and Jeff standing against their bars, their faces awash in terror as they stared at the cell next to mine.

  With great effort I sat up, my joints cracking as I pushed myself upright. I looked over to the cell next to mine, and any trace of sleep still lingering in the recesses of my mind instantly vanished.

  A couple sat on the cot, their arms zip-tied behind their backs. Blindfolds covered their eyes while thick cloth gags muffled their cries.

  The man struggled against the plastic ties, his thick arms pulling against the restraints to no avail. He’d been stripped down to his boxers; his many hours in the gym evidenced by his well-toned physique. Judging from his tan skin and clean appearance, the apocalypse had done little to impact his way of life.

  The sobbing woman beside him was similarly stripped. She sat hunched over in clean white bra and boy shorts. She looked as though she was similarly unaffected by the toll the ravenous hordes had taken on the world. The sweat beading on her black skin glistened in the bright light, highlighting her tone physique. Even her hair was clean and well kempt, her natural curls shining like fine silk in the morning sun.

  Larry stood in front of their cell, taunting the two with cat calls and racial slurs that I really wish would have died with the rest of the world. Bobby stood beside him, licking his lips like a lion stalking its prey. His eyes scanned the woman from head to toe, drool practically falling to the floor in rivers.

  “Come on,” he begged like a bratty kid demanding a candy bar at the store. “Let me just rip that thing off. I promise I’ll be real gentle, I just want to grab a handful of those boobs!”

  “Cut the shit, Bobby,” Larry snapped. “The man says not to touch them, so we don’t touch them. Unless you want to explain to him why you disobeyed his orders.”

  Bobby looked at the woman again, then down to the floor. “She ain’t that good looking anyway,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pocket like a bratty child that just got his hand smacked.

  “You,” Larry said, turning his attention to me. “Professor wants you to take your pills like a good little boy. He doesn’t want you to get an upset tummy, so he made me leave you an apple before taking your medicine.”

  “Yeah,” Bobby added. “Don’t want to have to call your mommy. Take your medicine like a good boy.”

  “Bobby,” Larry said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up,” Larry rolled his eyes.

  “You still got my gun, Larry?” I asked, biting into the near spoiled apple.

  “I told you, it’s mine now.”

  “Until it isn’t,” I said.

  “You keep thinking like that tough guy.”

  “You too,” I said, throwing back the pills and washing them down with lukewarm water. “One of us will be right eventually.”

  “Gentlemen,” Professor clapped as he strode into the room. Gone was the simple blue suit, replaced by comfort slacks, a high necked shirt and a tweed smoking jacket. The only thing missing was a pipe and a leather therapy couch.

  “I’m happy to see everyone is up and well,” he continued, his cheeriness turning my stomach. “Jeffery, Tanya, I trust you enjoyed your dinner. I must say, Tanya you are already looking much better. A
nd I see you have taken your medication, Mr. Foster. The Oxycodone does seem to have you up and around a bit easier than you would have been given the extent of your injuries. The antibiotics have also been doing wonders to keep the infection you had in those poorly stitched hands at bay. I’m happy that we found you when we did, or you may have lost the battle with infection before the month was out.”

  “Lucky me,” I replied sarcastically, limping my way over to the bars. “Out kidnapping more innocent people again?”

  “No one is truly innocent, Mr. Foster,” he said with a sly grin. “Innocence and guilt is nothing more than a matter of timing. Everyone is guilty of something. No one is truly innocent.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” I said. “Are we not enough to satisfy your insanity?”

  “Mr. Foster,” he started. Pulling a small leather case from his jacket pocket, he set it down on his chair that had already been set up for him. “You asked me a question earlier, and I intend to answer it. You wanted to know how I got people to follow me. I plan to show you.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I pleaded. A feeling rose in my gut that I was not going to like what I was about to see. “You can just tell me.”

  “Now, now, Daniel. My good man Lawrence and his partner Robert were kind enough to find these two lovely people for us so we could present you with this little show and tell. I couldn’t imagine letting their work go to waste.”

  “Please don’t,” I begged.

  “No need for the theatrics, Mr. Foster. Donald here will be just fine. Better than fine in fact. His fear will be gone, his sorrow, his pain…all gone with a simple injection.”

  “Professor,” Larry piped in. “Would you like us to—”

  “I can handle things from here, Lawrence. You and Robert may go.”

  “Sir,” Larry argued. “They guy’s pretty big. Are you sure—”

  “I said go!” Professor snapped.

  Larry glared at the man, cold anger building behind his eyes. Bobby slinked away as if looking for a hole to crawl into while the two men stared each other down. A few seconds later Larry turned and stormed down the hall. Bobby leapt like a startled jackrabbit, nearly knocking Larry down as he bolted for the door.

  “Please, don’t do this,” I begged again.

  “Don’t beg!” he snapped at me, again his accent fading. “It’s unbecoming,” he finished after composing himself.

  Fishing around inside his almost comical smoking jacket, he produced a small vial filled with a pitch black liquid. He opened his leather case and pulled out an antique steel syringe with a mean looking needle jutting out from its end.

  He plunged the needle into the top of the vial, drawing out half of the tar-like solution before setting the bottle down on the chair. He tapped at the steel syringe, squeezing some of the fluid from the needle tip.

  The smell hit me like a garbage truck full of slow roasted dirty diapers. My eyes watered as the vile stench destroyed my olfactory senses. My stomach instantly threatened to purge all the pills and half rotten apple onto the floor.

  Tanya turned away, rushing to the sink and began dry heaving. Jeff gagged, raising his plain white t-shirt over his nose. His eyes tearing up, the salty moisture spilled down his cheeks and disappearing in the white cotton.

  The gagged couple did not escape the effects either. The woman retched behind her gag, spewing stomach acids from around the thick cloth. Donald dry heaved, his stomach muscles tightening as his stomach tried to purge itself.

  “The smell is quite pungent,” he said, appearing unaffected by the noxious assault the rest of us experienced. “Over time, I have grown accustomed to it.”

  “What is that?!” I demanded. It was the stench I smelled from Bobby and the obnoxious Irish girl, but much stronger. I had finally figured out where I had smelled it before, but I prayed that I was wrong.

  “Essence of mutation,” he answered proudly. “At least, that is what I have chosen to call it.”

  “Let’s pretend that I’m an idiot,” I said. “What is it exactly?”

  “Have you had the opportunity to view the mutations up close?” he asked, opening the new couple’s cell door.

  “Uncomfortably close,” I replied.

  “Then you have noticed their saliva, how it appears different from the rest.”

  “I’ve noticed how they control the other zombies,” I said.

  “Control?” he stopped, shooting me a questioning glance. “Not quite control. More like, it makes them susceptible to suggestions. Their saliva—”

  “Is toxic, I know.”

  “Please don’t interrupt,” he said, turning to fully face me. “The saliva of the mutations is not toxic. Have you killed one yet?”

  “Not personally, but I’ve seen one killed.”

  “Ah, good,” he said. “Then you have seen how the normal ones act when exposed to the brains of the mutations?”

  “It’s like a feeding frenzy,” I replied, realizing that I was far too interested in what the man was saying. I justified it to myself with the fact that if he was talking to me, he wasn’t attacking the bound couple.

  “Very astute,” he said, leaning against the bars. “I will admit, I am no microbiologist, but I have a theory on their behavior. I believe the mutations emit an odor that only others of their kind can detect, much like a pheromone. But the normal creatures will attack the mutation like a living being, more so in fact. I believe the saliva acts as a counteragent, a warning pheromone if you will.”

  “Their spit is a keep away smell,” I said, trying to keep him occupied. The information was good to know, for what it was worth, but I hoped he would enjoy the conversation enough to make another deal with me. I would choose for the two to be spared, if only for one more night.

  Yeah, the odds of that happening were roughly the same as getting hit by lightning while surviving a fall off a skyscraper in time to win the lottery, all while curing cancer and ending world hunger. Basically somewhere between yeah right and ain’t f’n happening.

  “A crude way of describing it, but yes,” he continued. “They produce enough saliva for the creatures at hand, the more of them, the more saliva the mutations produce. A sort of balancing act.”

  “What about their screams?” I asked.

  “I believe the shouting serves many purposes. They use it as a warning to other mutations, and to call more of the normal creatures to their ranks. When they attack, I believe they scream to produce a massive bombardment of this pheromone, so much so that the creatures are pushed away from the mutations and toward the intended target. When the kill has been made the mutation simply walks up and begins to feed. It’s quite ingenious in an instinctive sort of way, if you think about it.”

  “You almost sound like you admire those monsters,” I replied sarcastically.

  “What’s not to admire?” he laughed. “They have opened up an opportunity for me to fully express who I am, and to explore new possibilities of who I can become. I can finally be the man I was destined to be.”

  “You were destined to be a murdering asshole?” I snapped.

  “Mr. Foster,” he sighed. “I’m afraid you will never fully comprehend who I am, but do not despair. Not many people really appreciate those like me.”

  My response was still forming on my lips when Professor spun on his heels, bringing the syringe back up to his eyes. He tapped on the glass as he watched a few small bubbles boil up from the deathly black substance.

  “What is Essence of Mutation?” I blurted out before he could carry out his plan.

  “I do despise these disruptions, Mr. Foster,” he sighed. “This is a cocktail of saliva and dissolved brain tissue from a mutation, distilled down to its purest form. With a small amount of heroin to make sure my worker bees as you put it keep returning home for their next treatment.”

  “No,” I gasped. “You can’t!”

  “As I said,” his smile spread wide as he cast a sideways glance to me. “I do thi
s, because I can.”

  His hand shot out like lightning, plunging the needle deep into Donald’s neck. I shouted for him to stop, only to be met with the same wicked smirk as he depressed the plunger.

  Donald’s muscles lock tight as his head tilted backwards. Professor ripped the blindfold away and exposed deep blue eyes. The whites of his eyes crisscrossed with red lines that snaked outward until they appeared ready to bleed. The woman next to him screamed behind her gag as the man fell to the floor, writhing around in her vomit.

  Professor reached down and plucked Donald’s gag from his mouth in one quick tug. Donald’s face contorted in agony as sweat beads formed across his body. He cried out, trying to form words that ended up broken and unintelligible.

  “Oh, I’m afraid he’s not one of the lucky ones,” Professor proffered as he stepped out from the cell to take his place on his cushioned throne.

  “You killed him!” I shouted at him. “You lunatic, he’s dying!”

  “Calm yourself, Daniel. He will not die, and he will still be very useful to me. His mental faculties will not be as sharp as they once were, however.”

  “Damn you,” Tanya snapped from her cell. “You goddamn animal!”

  “Careful, Tanya,” he said, looking over his shoulder and locking his eyes on hers. “Mr. Foster is far more interesting to me than you are. Don’t make me punish Jeffery for your sharp tongue.”

  “You fuc—” I started.

  “It would also be unwise to continue your insults, Daniel,” he snapped, swiveling his head back to me. “You are interesting, and I do plan to have several weeks of fun breaking you, but I am growing quite weary of your insolence. Your interruptions are distracting me from my show. Speak again before I allow it, and I will kill both of your new friends and these two. I have been more than patient with you. Do not test me.”

  I slunk back into my cell as the screams of the man started anew, his body arching backward as a powerful stream of bloody vomit rocketed from his mouth like high pressure water from a fire hose.