Dead To Rights_HZA, Vol. 4

by Marty Brockschmidt

  The girl Chloe, being sent with her, complicated matters greatly. The girl had the same flat, emotionless. affect as Delilah. Somehow Rachel's program stripped away the children's personalities and feelings, leaving them automatons, answering solely to the will of Rachel. Abigail could understand Rachel's desire to have an army of these. They would act out her directives without question. They had absolutely no fear. Yet they were little more than the fallen. Replacing a world of the fallen with people that have had every vestige of their humanity stripped away was little improvement.

  When Rachel's, Sisterhood came to reclaim Zoe, Zoe hugged Abigail tightly. “I love you Mommy. Please, I don't want to leave.”

  Abigail's heart was breaking. as she handed the little girl to the Sisterhood. “Soon honey. Mommy has to go on a job to help Mother Rachel, but when I get back we'll be together.”

  When Zoe was gone, Abigail went to find Silas the only person she thought of as a friend, in this community. When Silas saw her coming into the supplies warehouse, he ushered her into his office, “Are there some last things you need, for your trip Miss Cross?”

  Once in his office with the hum of the AC drowning out their conversation, he patted Abigail's shoulder. “Take heart, there is a plan.”

  “Could you tell me what it is?”

  “You are to follow your heart and be the woman you are.”

  “That is not a lot of help Silas.” Abigail responded wryly.

  “Go along. Try and get some rest, I have a feeling you will need it. I'll be taking care of matters here, Zoe will be just fine, you have my promise.”

  After Abigail left, Silas returned to his task of altering Rachel's cache of drugs, administered to the children. Slowly, over the past few months, he had been diluting the drugs with a placebo, in hopes, that he could slow Rachel's program. Eventually, he would be found out, but hopefully not before Josiah was able to complete his own plans.

  Back in the apartment she shared with Delilah, Rachel sat at a bureau and admired the reflection of the beautiful Delilah. Delilah, as was their ritual, prepared Rachel for bed. She released Rachel's hair from the tight bun and brushed it out. Rachel stopped her for a moment, touching her hand. “Oh Delilah, only if I had more like you. There are plans afoot here, I can just feel it.”

  After Delilah had finished pleasuring her, Rachel lay beside Delilah gently stroking her breast. At times like this, she would prefer that Delilah would show an emotional attachment to her, but then Rachel would have to relinquish her control over Delilah and that is something she could never do.

  Rachel had known from an early age that she preferred women to men, but at the time she was growing up, that was just not something you did. Instead, Rachel focused on her studies and enjoyed the company of her books. That served her well, until she was in graduate school and began working as the TA in the psychology department.

  In the class, was Lucinda Contrares and from the moment she entered the classroom, Rachel could not take her eyes off of her. Lucinda was a complete contrast to Delilah. Delilah was blonde and Lucinda had long, black hair, Delilah blue eyed and Lucinda's were dark brown almost black. Lucinda sought attention at all times and Delilah strove to go unnoticed.

  Lucinda's looks and vivacious personality, served her well in most situations. However, she was struggling in psych 101 and the female professor was immune to her flirtations. Then Lucinda caught the mousey little TA staring at her and began to capitalize on Rachel's infatuation.

  While nothing truly intimate ever happened, between the two women, Lucinda would lead Rachel on by touching her hand, stroking her hair, and occasionally bending over and flashing Rachel a view of her breasts. Rachel became convinced the two of them were in love and between Rachel's tutoring and the fact that Rachel graded all the papers for the class, Lucinda passed with a solid B.

  With the class finished, Rachel thought their relationship could move on to the next level. Rachel caught up to Lucinda and asked her over for dinner. Lucinda looked at Rachel with contempt and disgust. “You ugly little troll, what makes you think I would have anything to do with you? Don't you get it, I just used you to get the grade. Now get out of my sight, you disgust me.”

  Rachel took off, fighting back tears. Back at her apartment, she threw away the dinner she had for the two of them, followed by the flowers she had bought, for Lucinda. She opened a bottle of wine and forsaking a glass, she chugged it down, straight from the bottle. When she hit the bottom of the bottle, all of her lifelong feelings of insecurity and shame were pushed to the surface and she contemplated ending it all. “That would show her, it would be all her fault.” Rachel mumbled, to herself.

  Starting on the second bottle, a new line of thought started playing in her head. “Rachel, don't give her the satisfaction. You are better than she is, you are better than all of them.”

  A harder and empowered Rachel, came out of that apartment. Over the semester break, Rachel reinvented herself. She revised her entire class schedule and managed to be the new TA, in the behavioural psychology lab. She had theories to test. If she could change herself, than she would change others. She would make the world better.

  After graduation, Rachel sought a position to continue her work. The counselor position at Brighton Academy, was like a gift from above. Delilah was one of the first students that came to her. At ten years old, Delilah was a pretty little blonde girl, but was extremely shy and withdrawn. Delilah had been placed in Brighton Academy by her mother, to get her away from her abusive father.

  Delilah proved to be exceptionally malleable, yet Rachel was surprised by the amount of personality that needed to be stripped away to have unequivocal control, over another person. She had to take away Delilah's self-identity, self- preservation, self-expression and replace it all, with a new set of instructions. It was a tedious and painstaking task, but overtime Rachel was learning the process.

  After four years of work, Rachel was ready for a final test with Delilah. Delilah went home for winter break. As usual, her mother passed out early in a drug and alcohol induced stupor, unable to bear the pain of the torment she knew, awaited her daughter. This would be the last night that Delilah's father would violate her. Once he fell into a deep sleep from his exertions, Delilah crept down and tampered with the furnace as Rachel had instructed her, filling the house with carbon monoxide.

  In the morning, Delilah went to a neighbor's. As instructed, she was in tears and feigned horror at her parents condition. With no immediate family to call upon, Delilah asked that the kindly counselor at Brighton Academy, be contacted. Rachel offered whatever assistance she could, eventually taking Delilah in as a foster child.

  Two years later, Rachel celebrated the formal adoption of Delilah, by taking Delilah into her bed. Rachel now had a lovely companion and lover of sorts, but wanted to use the same programming she used on Delilah, to make more sweeping changes. It was the outbreak that finally gave Rachel the chance to make a world, she would control. However, of the more than a hundred children in her charge, only a few were programmed near to the same extent as Delilah. Perhaps Delilah was a unique case, perhaps the drugs were beyond their shelf life, or perhaps other variables were in play. This new group of children, would allow her to modify the program to not require drugs, though the mental stresses would need to be severe. The next step would be to implement a selective breeding process and then she could apply the modified program to infants.

  Rachel did have her Zealots, a small percentage of their group, predominantly woman, who had adopted the religious fervor of the True Believer message. The Zealots were drawn to the power Rachel held. Rachel knew that their devotion was a fickle thing, if her authority over this group was lost, so would be the loyalty of the Zealots. For now, Rachel had numbers on her side, but no real soldiers. The mercenaries and cutthroats they had used in the past had been eliminated, since they had become more of a liability, than an asset. Soon someone would come along and bring together the roving packs of marauders
, she was in a race to condition an army for Delilah to lead, against them.

  In the morning, Delilah would be leaving with Josiah to assist him in eliminating, this new group. Rachel had been feeling for a while that Josiah could no longer be trusted, to further her cause.

  “Delilah my dear, you are going to be gone for some time, would you be so kind as to relax me, one more time.”

  “Yes Mistress.” Delilah replied, in a flat monotone voice. It mattered little to her, whatever Rachel asked was for her to do.

  As Delilah began stroking and caressing Rachel, Rachel laid out a series of instructions for her. “And when you return, make sure that Josiah and Mrs. Cross do not survive to come back. Bide your time, until their usefulness is done, but we cannot have them returning here.”

  “Of course miss.” Turk replied

  Before she could respond, the woman collapsed in Turk's arms. Turk swept her up and motioned to Margo to guide in the young girl, that accompanied the woman.

  “Sam, you and Caleb bring up the rear, in case these two are bein followed.”

  Turk, being a hunting guide, had to be trained in emergency first aid. As he carried the woman, he took what vitals he could. Tim and Miri were on watch at the gate and Tim opened the way as Turk approached.

  “Has she been bit?” Tim asked.

  “I don't think so, she doesn't have a fever and her pulse is steady.” Turk replied.

  News travels fast in the compound, Tracey and Emma soon came on the run, followed by Will and Prescott.

  “Emma, we'll take these two over to the medical building and you can clean her cuts and get some ice on this eye. Tracey, would you bring her a change of clothes, please.” Turk directed.

  “What about the girl, is she okay?” Miri questioned.

  “Don't know, so far she ain't let out a peep. Would you mind havin a chat with her, see what you can find out.” Turk answered.

  “Margo, get water and something for her to eat and you can help me talk to her.” Miri responded.

  At the first aid office, setup as their hospital, Turk placed the woman on a bench in the exam room, while Miri tried to start up a conversation with the young girl. As Emma began to clean up her cuts Turk left, but posted Will outside the door. “Stay close, just in case.”

  As Turk exited, he found Tim, Tom and Sue waiting outside. “Anything?” Sue asked.

  “Nothin's changed, give it some time, I think answers will be slow to come.” Turk responded.

  Tracey came up with a change of clothes for the woman, followed closely by Prescott. “Excuse me, I want to be there when she comes to. I'm pretty sure what she's been through, I want to help her get past it.”

  Tracey entered the building, but as Prescott tried to enter Turk pulled him back. “They don't need us in there right now son, give em some space.”

  Turk looked over at Tom and Sue. “The timin of that pair is a might suspicious, not to mention just lookin at them don't fit.”

  “What do you mean they don't fit?” Sue demanded.

  “The woman she has the look of somebody who has been on the run for a better share of the time since the outbreak. She is about a buck two and her hands are rough from hard work. That child doesn't look like she's ever missed a meal or had to pitch in on any camp chores.”

  “Parents look out for their children, make sacrifices for them.” Sue replied.

  “Yes they do, but look at our kids ain't a one of them not showin they been on short rations for a long time.”

  “We did the best we could. I guarantee you our children were always fed before any of us.” Sue responded defensively.

  “I'm sure they were, but that ain't my point. That woman has been toughin it out like we all have, that child hasn't.”

  “How could that be?” Tom asked.

  “You tell me and we'll both know, for now, all we can do is watch and wait.”

  To sell her story, Abigail had to allow Zachary to beat her up and then march her and Chloe for a day, with no food or water. Zachary's blows to her head, had given her a slight concussion, leaving her somewhat confused. However, it did make it easier for her to recall the time when Wilbur and his filthy partner Remington, had attacked their camp.

  Those memories were so close to the surface that in her unconscious state she confused Tracey's attempt to change her clothes. Sensing that she was being undressed to be brutalized once again Abigail let out a piercing scream “NOOOO”.

  “Easy now, your Ok, your safe now.” Tracey soothed.

  Abigail tried to speak, but her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Emma handed her a glass of water. “Here drink this. You look pretty dehydrated.”

  Abigail sipped at the glass and then croaked out. "My, uh, my daughter?”

  “She is in the other room, would you like me to get her?” Tracey asked.

  Abigail shook her head. “Not yet. Uhm, where are we?”

  “This place used to be The Playland, but it's our home now. We've made it secure, its a safe place.” Tracey answered.

  “I guess you want my story. Every group we ever came across always wanted to know what we've been up to.”

  “You're right, we're no different, but when you're ready. There is no rush.”

  “Thank you, but folks imagination have a way of getting carried away. Let me finish the water and getting changed and I'll be ready for you.”

  “Emma, I'll go get Sue and Miri. You help, uh what's your name Ma'am?”

  “Abigail, Abigail Cross.”

  “You help Abigail and I'll be right back.”

  After a few minutes, Tracey knocked on the exam room door and when Emma answered, she entered with Sue and Miri.

  “Abigail, this is Sue and Miri, I'm Tracey and your nurse there is Emma.”

  “Thank you all so much for taking us in. If you hadn't, I hate to imagine what would of become of Chloe and I.”

  “You certainly looked in need of some help.” Sue replied.

  “We were in desperate straights to be sure. We were camped out near here with my husband. We were trying to decide if we could trust you to take us in.” Abigail choked up and began to shed some tears.

  “Take your time, is your husband nearby, does he need help?” Tracey asked.

  Abigail shook her head, “No, Henry is... is....is dead now. These two men came to our camp, they killed Henry, stabbed him dead without a second thought. They said they were going to trade Chloe and I to another group. First they...they took me and they took me and they took me, right in front of my little girl. Eventually, they started drinking and passed out. Chloe and I were able to sneak away and make our way here.”

  That evening before it was time to take their tour on patrol, Prescott went in search of Tracey. He quickly found her seated on the ground outside of their commons building. She was seated with her knees hugged to her chest and her chin resting on top. Prescott approached as she blankly stared at a spot in front of her. “Tracey you okay?”

  When she didn't respond Prescott sat down next to her to see why that little patch of their home demanded so much of her attention. After a little while Tracey came out of her reverie. “I'm okay. I am. Yea I'm good.” Almost as if she was trying to convince herself of something.

  “Alright then, I haven't seen you like this before.” Prescott replied, still a bit unsure as to what to do.

  “It was just listening to Abigail's story, what those men did to her. It reminded me of what happened to me, before Sue and Tom found me. Stuff like that changes you, I guess I'm damaged goods now.”

  Prescott got angry, hearing her deprecating herself. “The hell you are.” Then gentler, he placed his hand on hers. “You're a survivor.”

  Tracey interlocked his fingers with hers and laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” They sat that way for a moment, their four year age difference not a factor, just one person supporting a friend. Then Tracey, who was sensitive to the way the young man looked at her when he thought she wasn't watching, s
tood up and tugged Prescott to his feet. “Well my young friend, lets get something to eat, before we go on patrol, as I remember it was your turn to cook.”

  Chapter 9 - Siege

  Two days passed and little decision had been made, about Abigail and her daughter. Since someone was always on watch in the security building, they housed the pair in the office of that building. The group, was pretty evenly divided on their new arrivals. The woman, having been present during Abigail's emotional retelling of her story, tended to take Abigail and Chloe as they claimed. The men were more inclined to accept Turk's observation that something just wasn't right, about the couple.