by Annie Walls
“You must be something special. Mac…deserves to be loved. You love him?”
I look up at him, blinking back tears. I don’t know what to say to that, except, “In my own way, I suppose.”
A hand covers mine, “I’ll try to help you. I can see about contacting him.” Tears spill down my cheeks as I gasp for air.
“What are you saying to my wife?” Joshua bellows in outrage as he comes to stand behind me. He doesn’t look like a little boy at the moment, but a reflection of Jeremiah.
Dalton keeps his cool, “I was congratulating her. She is a pretty one. You’re very lucky Joshua,” he emphasizes, before turning in retreat. I hear his words beneath the words. Mac is lucky.
One thing was left unspoken. Mac lives at the community to keep an eye on things. Maybe Dalton already thinks I know, but it doesn’t matter. Mac could have told me, been honest with me. It explains some things. His secretiveness, for one thing. I remember asking him about the men in black canvas, and him not answering me. Just changed the subject. I just assumed he wasn’t in the army anymore, just as he led me to believe. Did Rudy know? Of course, he does. It all makes sense, except for the reason they kept it from me.
I’m shocked that this doesn’t really upset me. After everything I’ve been through, it seems nothing Mac could do would make me mad for long. Except die, or cheat, which I doubt he would do. Like I might have to do, tonight. I swallow as fresh tears course their way down my cheeks and throat. I wipe at them with the back of my hand.
We spend a long time at the reception, dancing. Well, I don’t really dance, just go through the motions. Joshua brags about me to people the whole time, wanting our children to look like me, because of my beautiful eyes, flowing hair, supple lips, and perfect facial structure.
I pretend as if I’m still heavily drugged, not looking around too much to give myself away. Walking around gives me the information I need for future reference. We’re in some kind of conference room. I vaguely remember walking down flights of stairs. Not to mention, the room I was held in making way to the rest of the apartment. The clues point to an apartment complex.
Not seeing Dalton the rest of the time, I have hope that he went to the community and Mac will come bursting in at any moment.
***
After being taken to a bedroom in the apartment, with a full size bed, I want to vomit. The girls say a prayer of fertility, and I say my own of infertility. I know my cycle, and I’m not worried about it. Mac and I discussed this way before we slept together. I have to say, the boy knows his stuff. It sure as hell doesn’t make him uncomfortable talking about ovulation.
I almost smile when I recall him telling me he has a thermometer to check. If I’m worried about it, of course. Not pushy, but he likes to be prepared. I know why. It’s part of his personality anyway, but most of it stems from military training being ingrained. I remember asking him how he knew so much about it. He told me he picked it up to help the women at the community, so they would know exactly when they couldn’t get pregnant. I realize now, it’s probably in the job description, looking over people at the community. I suddenly wonder if his cantankerousness is all an act. I can’t believe I don’t know his rank, or how he even knows all the medical information he stores in his genius. I hope I get the chance to know.
A thin nightgown slips over me. They have me lay on the bed, before leaving. While I lay there, I wonder if the team left for the famished camps. A dawning horror washes over me – Mac might already be gone to the base with the team.
Joshua comes in and strides right for the bed, only wearing pajama bottoms. I’m glad no one follows with a gun. Being very young, he doesn’t have chest hair, or even a trail leading down. Ribs poke out of his abdomen just as his pajama bottoms point to a tent in the front, more than ready to commence his wedding night. I squeeze my eyes closed. A cup is thrust into my hand.
“Drink this, darling.” His voice is smooth, happy, but the endearment stabs my heart.
“Don’t call me that! You haven’t earned the right!” I snap as his face hardens. He jerks the nightgown off of me. It seems I underestimate him. A chill sweeps over my body, having nothing to do with the cold.
He stands above me, staring at my body in fascination, like he’s never seen a naked woman before. I cross my hands over my chest, and pull my knees up.
Not liking this, he demands, “You will not cover yourself.” Jerking my knees apart, he looks at my most private parts as if he were looking through a microscope. My fists ball up. Not yet. I force myself to relax. Bending over, he groans, and makes a face I never want to see again. He falls to the bed, gasping for air. I move backward against the headboard, feeling satisfaction of his premature ejaculation, along with disgust.
Usually, a girl will comfort a guy in this situation. He doesn’t deserve it, and I don’t pity him.
“Hang on a minute, Mary. I think something is wrong,” he says with a little bewilderment in his eyes. Joshua has no idea what happened to him? How can that be possible? Has he ever jacked-off?
I laugh, not helping matters. “Oh please, nothing is wrong with you. You got over excited when you looked my pink parts in the face. It happens with the inexperienced, or in your case, brain washed.” I don’t know what comes over me. Thoughts of Mac maybe? I really don’t want this kid to have his way with me.
A slap stings my face. “You should be grateful to me. I could hand you over to someone else.”
“No, you’ll screw me first at least.” I want to shoot him. I’ve never wanted to outright kill anyone before. Now I have two on my hit list in less than twenty-four hours. “You killed your brother for nothing it seems.”
This pisses him off, but his fist stops in midair at screams through the walls. Joshua looks toward the door, startled. My heart soars. Mac. Right now! I draw my fist back, when Joshua turns back around to me, I punch him in the temple and he falls unconscious. Pain slithers through my hand, making it throb. I shake it out. How does Rudy do it all the time? The man must be made of steel.
I throw the wedding band at the twerp as I jump up and run for the door. The ring still bounces as I quickly shut the door behind me. A nondescript hallway, in a nondescript apartment, in a nondescript apartment building confuses me. Everything’s plain beige. The carpet in this hall, burgundy, a color I’ve seen Glinda use on her nails.
The screaming comes from the opposite direction, but I make way for the room I stayed in earlier, smiling when I get there. My pack leans against the wall, still here. When I look in it, so are my jeans, along with Mac’s T-shirt. I throw them on without underwear, searching around for my boots. What do you know? Isabel hid them under the bed. I shake my head at her stupidity. I don’t have any bullets, but my guns are still there. Mac’s compound bow leans against the wall. No arrows. He probably thinks I took it. My crossbow resides in his room at the community.
I dash down the stairs in the midst of complete chaos. Zombies. Not Mac. My heart breaks, but I spring into action, kicking a couple out of my way down the stairs. I freeze at the sight of them carrying unconscious humans, but not eating them. Puzzling at this scene, a man steps into my view. He wears black canvas pants, boots, and a black canvas jacket with little pockets. Exactly like the man in the parking garage. What an unexpected turn of events?
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His hands are up in a soothing gesture. He reaches out and pricks me with something. I stare at the pinpoint of blood on my arm. This cannot be happening to me. I blink as my vision blurs, and my body lightens. The world spins, closing itself off from me.
Chapter 29
Cold air seizes my body along with a harsh smell of antiseptic. My eyes don’t want to open, and I can barely move. A breeze floats where no breeze should be. A beep of a monitor makes me peek my eyes open to look. I move my head and see my knees in the air. My feet are cold from harsh stirrups, slowly warming with my body heat. It’s cold where it is usually warm because I’m wide open.
A do
ctor writes in a clipboard, no. Not a clipboard, a smart pad. I figure he’s a doctor from the white coat. Maybe I have just been in a four year coma. Possibly having had a massive car wreck, hallucinating zombies, and having a massive freak out requiring me to be placed in the loony bin. I’m betting he’s a doctor, and I didn’t dream up the last four years.
I struggle and let out a moan, meaning to say, “What the fuck?” It doesn’t come out the way I want it to. The monitor beeps rapidly with the tune of my heartbeat. The doctor turns to look at me, gesturing with his hand. Before I can really look at him, a nurse with green scrubs on comes into view. She does something I can’t see. I remember nothing after that.
***
My body is stiff, like I’ve been asleep for an unusual amount of time. My memories stream back to me all at once. I know where I am, and don’t want to face that reality. Without moving or making a sound, I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. Lying on a twin bed, a bunk bed to be exact, I’m in some kind of dorm room, made of painted white cinderblocks. Several bunk beds take up the walls. It smells of harsh cleaning chemicals and floral fragrances.
“She’s awake,” a bored voice announces. “Get Donna, so she can do her thing.”
A girl with dark curly brown hair to her shoulders comes into view. She’s clean, and when she smiles her teeth are stark white against her coffee brown skin, the bright green V-neck shirt contrasts with it.
“Hello sleepy. You’ve had quite a time, huh?” She doesn’t sound like someone held captive against her will and awaiting slaughter. I blink sleep out of my eyes, and rub out the crust.
A door opens, and a woman clears her throat. “You know the drill ladies. You can get to know Kansas later. Out.” She points to the door with her thumb. Creamy Coffee just shrugs at me and leaves along with a couple other girls who look to be around my age. I’m strangely curious about this, and want to know more about them. I haven’t seen many girls my age for a long time.
“Hello, Kansas.” I turn my attention back to the plain Jane woman with frizzy, dishwater-blonde hair tied in a ponytail. Her light brown eyes scrutinize me. A purple sweater and jeans with white sneakers give off a disheveled look that reminds me of myself. “I’m Donna. I help coordinate the single female housing.”
She lets that sink in for a minute before continuing, “You’ll be able to shower and change in a little while. I’m sure you’re tired of that hospital gown.”
I hold up a hand, “How long have I been here?”
She rubs her chin like she has a beard and sighs, as if my question isn’t unexpected, just tiring. “A couple of days.” Everything seems to be in order. The team hasn’t showed up yet. “Usually happens with the people we have to sedate.” Her eye twitches. “If you cause trouble, we won’t hesitate to do it again. If you give it a chance you can be happy here.”
“We have rules, of course. I’ll start with the basics. You’re encouraged to find …a partner.” She eyes me as dread settles in my stomach.
I’m not in immediate danger, and she doesn’t hold a gun on me, but I have to ask. “Why?”
She sighs again, “I suppose you have questions, but I’m not at liberty to answer. Dr. Finnegan will be here in a couple of days. He’s the one that answers those. He’s brilliant, and it may take a while to get use to his views, but everything makes sense. I promise.
“You have been cleared as a healthy, fertile female. You will be treated with much respect. You could say it’s almost like being royalty. You will be royalty if you bear children. You have a chance to pick your own partner. You can live with him, marry him, or just have babies. Some women opt for that, and live on their own so they give back to the world the same as women who find a companion.”
“Who would want to bring an innocent baby into this world? What if I opt out?” I’m getting angry. This is the second time in a week that I’m wanted for my uterus. One of the reason’s I was kidnapped to begin with. Kidnapped, twice. I now know why young women are scarce at the community. They don’t just come and go. They are taken against their will.
She looks at me blankly. “You will be forced, but we want you to be happy, so you’re encouraged to do so. On your own. The children here are really happy children with no worries that would apply to children outside of here. They live and are raised by their parents. They attend school, get exercise, play, and have friends that they will know their entire lives.” She lifts her chin studying my reaction. “I have someone that will take you around the compound and let you see with your own eyes. She’s recently married, and pregnant with her first child. She lives with her husband and they live a normal life in independent housing. She devotes her time in talking to women like you, who come from the outside unwillingly. She was here before I came, and I have been honored with watching her grow and accept.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care. What if I decide I want to leave?”
She looks at me with pity. “We won’t force you to stay here, but if you walk out of those doors you are no longer safe from the infected.”
“What? Infected? So it is a disease? How?” I blurt these all out. She holds up a hand. I don’t believe her about letting me walk out if I want to leave. Her tone tells me as much.
“Dr. Finnegan will explain.” Her arm lifts toward the door. “Let’s get you a shower, and something to eat. Then you will have time in the singles hall.” They’re not wasting any time. I have to be serious. I was coming here for this exact reason. Now, I’m going to talk to someone who knows the things I want to know. Hoping the team will hold off a while longer, I will have time to get knowledge, look for Julie, and set a plan into motion. Not for the first time this week, I wish I could make a phone call.
We go next door to the shower room, complete with lockers, benches, and a big group shower. She shows me clothes in the lockers and shoes. Everything I will need. A big makeshift vanity with girl crap all over takes up an entire wall. A girl with auburn hair spots us, and scrambles out after applying lip-gloss.
“Um, where are my clothes and boots?” I want Mac’s shirt back and my boots. The jeans I don’t really care about, just the shirt.
“Your clothes were probably cut off of you.” My eyes sting with tears. Stupid really, but it’s all I had. She takes in my reaction and quickly mumbles, “I can look for your boots, if you would like.” I nod, and she quickly leaves. They really do want me happy and compliant, but I have no doubt they won’t have any trouble tossing me to the famished, like Rudy first said they did. I can’t really grasp the reality and organization that was put into this.
I believe her when she said people are happy here, people jumping at the chance for safety and normal living. I still can’t see bringing a child in the world. It’s cruel and selfish. They don’t know what I do though, a cavalry will come with a whole lot of explosives soon, and their world will be torn apart. It will be too late to think about their hasty decision to join a new age plan.
Pure happiness overtakes me when I get in the hot, steamy shower. Standing there for a good ten minutes as it ripples over me puts me in a daze. I don’t completely understand my situation yet, it being so frustrating and unbelievable. After I take my time washing my hair and body, I get out feeling relaxed and ready to take on anything.
My boots perch on a bench on top of something white, much to my relief. Mac’s shirt. When I pick it up, it falls apart in tatters, but I’m grateful to Donna.
“I figured it was like that.” I spin and Donna leans against the wall. “You know, more people came with you. Maybe he is already here?”
I shake my head. “I was kidnapped before, by crazy religious people.”
She nods, “You might recognize some of them then. You never know whom you will see. They bring in people all the time.” I hope Mac is not here. Rudy either. Anyone I know, for that matter. I can’t worry about them now. They can take care of themselves. I know they thought the same of me. No point going down that road. I’m sure the opportunity to
be pissed at myself will arise again through my unwilling frolicsomeness.
I dress in a white long-sleeved T-shirt, and low-rise jeans, so low that my shirt doesn’t cover my hipbones as they protrude, indicating I’ve lost some weight. My tattoo sinks in, I need food pronto. A baby pink, zippered, hooded sweatshirt covers up my skinniness. Slipping on my boots is a comfort to me. The colored part of my hair’s light blue, so I brush it and leave it down, pulling the hood up.
It seems we stick to the same building with several wings. She explains one wing is dedicated to the singles area, but the bachelors live in a separate dorm. The cafeteria’s right off the front lobby which is all white-painted brick and cream colored tile floors.
The cafeteria’s empty when we get there, reminding me of a school cafeteria. Rows of tables with the attached stools and a long buffet line sit in front of the kitchen. Inspirational posters hang throughout the building. I notice one now, featuring a cottage type house with a family playing the yard. The caption says, “Home sweet home. This is the place to find happiness. If one doesn’t find it here, one won’t find it anywhere.” Give me a fucking break.
The menu is varied with pizza, burgers, and fries, and I eat, not realizing how hungry I am. Food that will keep people happy. I opt for a Portobello mushroom burger, fries, and a hearty vegetable soup. God loves me – I have homemade double chocolate brownies. Donna watches me eat curiously. I think she wants to laugh.
“What?” I say with a mouth full of food as a piece of mushroom goes flying.
She smiles. “This is my favorite part. Watching people eat the foods they haven’t been able to eat.”
I nod. “I lost weight while drugged. I don’t think I’ve ever been this skinny. It’s gross.” I don’t remember eating anything at Jeremiah’s either. I frown.
She raises her brow, “Most girls like being ultra skinny.”
“It’s disgusting. Even though some girls can’t help being that skinny. Most girls starve themselves, and all I want to do is give them some cookies. I don’t think it’s attractive to not eat.” I shrug.
