by Steven Booth
Miller’s face darkened. She whispered. “It’s not safe anywhere, Scratch. You know that.”
“We both know that. Just lunch. Please. We haven’t had a good meal since Lake Havisu, and I’m so damn hungry I could eat the ass cheeks off a road-kill raccoon.”
Miller looked up at him. She was surprised by his willingness to be tamed this easily. “Don’t you know you should never eat in the underworld? Not if you ever expect to leave again?”
“Oh, come on, Penny, stop showing off. Besides, does this look like an underworld to you?”
Miller looked around her. The place was indeed beautiful, but so was the penthouse at the Excelsior hotel in Las Vegas. And that was the spot where they’d been cooped up for a month after the first days of the zombie apocalypse. Terrill Lee had been alive, and Sheppard had been with them. They’d thought the worst was over until the Army had asked them to go back into the jaws of Hell together. Then things had gone from bad to worse, fast as shit through a goose. Now Terrill Lee was gone, Sheppard was missing, and all that seemed so very, very far away. Is Scratch making sense? Am I just being paranoid?
Miller wavered. It would be good to have a bath and some food, maybe even sleep on a real bed, even if only to nap for an hour or two. Still, something about the calculated polish of their surroundings made her very uncomfortable. But as she thought about it, everything made Miller uncomfortable these days. The patient nurses had not moved to stop her from leaving just now. They seemed like they were just waiting for her to decide what to do. Damn it, maybe Scratch was right this once. They could at least just grab a bite of lunch and seize a chance to freshen up. What could that hurt?
Miller sighed and sagged. Her knees weakened but Scratch supported her easily. She was suddenly very tired. Her stomach growled, loudly enough to get noticed, despite a fervent hope that it wouldn’t. Damn it, she was starving too.
“Okay, Scratch. We stay to clean up and have a meal.”
Scratch put his arm around her. “Good girl.”
“Follow me, please.” Ramon stepped forward. At least he had the good grace to keep his face blank. One more satisfied grin and Miller would have kicked the man square in the door knocker.
Scratch and Miller followed meekly. Their walk led them through the lobby to another long, open corridor. They saw tall, lightly tinted windows on either side of them. Dry mountains dotted with green brush and deep blue sea water surrounded the premises. Miller felt herself relaxing, involuntarily responding to the place. A small voice in her head reminded her that the lodge in Colorado had once seemed like a refuge too, but within days it had been overrun by zombies and burned to the ground. And that reminded her once again of having to shoot her ex-husband. Miller shook her head imperceptibly. Her eyes moistened. Once again, she pictured Terrill Lee standing in the smoke and flame with empty zombie eyes, just waiting for the bullet that would free him at last. The image flat out cracked her heart open. I’m a wreck, Miller thought. Why wouldn’t I be after all that has happened? God knows we both need a break…
Miller snapped out of her reverie. Ramon led them to an immense elevator. Miller took a mental photograph of their location. She had already noted that there were only three floors to this part of the building. Ramon pushed the button. He whistled a bit as they waited.
“Hey, dude,” said Scratch. “What’s the story here, really?”
Ramon finally smiled. Miller wanted to sock him. “Everything will be explained at orientation.”
“Why is all this such a big secret?”
“It’s not really a big secret or anything,” Ramon said. The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. “It’s just easier to understand if you wait and hear everything all at once at the orientation. We have learned from experience.”
Scratch cocked his head. “Come on, get real.”
Ramon stepped into the elevator and held a hand in front of the photoelectric sensor on the door. They followed him into the car. “Well, I can tell you this much. There’s really no catch to being here. People come willingly to the Serenity Center. They just want to get better.”
Miller studied him, but couldn’t find a trace of irony.
The elevator rose. Their body odor filled the confined space. Ramon looked Scratch and Miller up and down. Miller was suddenly conscious of her filthy, torn clothing and their generally scruffy appearance. She felt her face redden.
Ramon patted her on the shoulder. “Sheriff, you two look like you’ve been through a lot. Orientation isn’t for a few hours. Why don’t you just have lunch, take a bath, put on some fresh clothes and maybe take a nap. Maybe even a walk on the beach, just chill out for a while. Later you can ask all the questions you want. Kick back. It will do you some good.”
The elevator doors opened. They were on the third floor. Ramon led them to door 329. He handed each of them a card key. He stood aside while Miller swiped her card. The door clicked softly, and Ramon pushed the door open. They looked inside. Scratch’s jaw dropped open.
“Jesus, Penny.”
Miller gasped. The suite was one huge-assed room. To their left was a dining area with a small blue kitchenette, straight ahead was a sitting area with a couch and chairs, and in the space to the right sat a king-sized bed. Not two queens or doubles, which struck Miller as odd, because it meant that whoever their hosts were already knew that they were sleeping together as a couple. That thought made Miller uncomfortable in a few new and interesting ways.
Tucked into a corner near the huge bed was a pristine, white-tiled bathroom. Miller could see that it held a glassed-in shower and a very large tub with Jacuzzi jets. Straight ahead of them, past the living area and directly across from the door, was a large balcony with curtains. It overlooked the sea. Two sailboats were crossing from south to north, rolling gently on the distant waves. Miller took it all in, her mind computing everything she might need to know later, if things got hairy. There was a music setup on the table, but no television.
“Come on in.”
They moved into the dining area. Lunch was waiting. Scratch and Miller almost drooled visibly over a green salad, Italian bread, hot soup, and pitchers of iced water with lemon. The smell of the fresh bread was overpowering, so instead of looking out at the ocean as she’d originally wanted to, Miller headed directly for the table. She picked up a piece of bread and started tearing it into little pieces, eating them without sitting down. The sun pressed in through the glass doors leading to the balcony. Just as she noticed that, the air conditioning kicked back on. The cool air felt wonderful on her bare arms.
“There’s a menu on the table,” Ramon said. “The cooks are waiting for your call. May I recommend both the rib eye steak and the Portobello mushroom burger? You can use that phone there to order. The food should be here by the time you finish your salads. Enjoy.”
Miller tried to thank him but her mouth was full. Ramon turned and left.
“Not too shabby,” said Scratch. He stuffed his face with lettuce and fresh tomato. “It’s been a long time since we got our sorry asses pampered a bit.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” said Miller, around a mouth still full of bread. “We’re leaving right after lunch and a shower. And a nap,” she heard herself saying.
Scratch pulled out a chair for each of them. They sat down in front of the soup. He picked up the spoon and took a couple of sips. “It ain’t even cold.” He took a piece of bread for himself and dunked it in the soup. “Penny, I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry to get out of here. This is pretty first class.”
“Scratch, do I really have to remind you that there’s no such thing as a free lunch?”
“Ha!” he said, and continued eating.
“Do you have any idea how much this place should cost? I’m thinking a suite like this has got to be a thousand dollars a day. And they’re giving it away for free? To people they should have been arresting? I’m not as dumb as you look. There’s got to be something very wrong going on around here.”
Scratch belched. “Could be, but I’m loving it, at least for right now.”
Against her better judgment, Miller sat down and perused the menu. She settled on a Kobe cheeseburger and fries. “I don’t like this one bit,” she said, but she picked up the small phone. “I guess there’s no sense in being pig-headed. What are you going to have?”
“Steak!” said Scratch breathlessly. He continued to devour his bread. “Medium rare.”
Their food did indeed arrive quickly, though not quite as quickly as had been promised. Both meals were cooked to perfection. Scratch beat Penny to the finish line, which took some doing. Their strength returned immediately. By the time they’d finished eating, they were both feeling happy, calm and pleasantly full for the first time in weeks.
Miller looked at the clock. It was just after 1:00pm.
“I’ve been thinking, Scratch. I’d love to find out what is really going on around here, and why. There’s only one way to do that. What do you say we get cleaned up, rest, and take a walk, and then go on ahead and attend that orientation?”
“Seriously?”
“Come on, let’s take a shower.” Miller grinned. “You can even wash my back.”
Scratch was on his feet in an instant. They headed into the bathroom, shedding filthy clothing as they went. Miller felt sleepy and dizzy and a bit silly, like she had been drinking wine. It was probably just having a full stomach for once. By the time they got in the shower, they were wrapped around each other. Making love with Scratch was even better when they both felt fresh and clean. Miller couldn’t decide what was actually better—having good sex, or just being clean for once. She decided it was damn near a tie.
It was almost 2:00pm when they finally emerged from the bathroom, skin wrinkled from the water, legs wobbly from orgasms. Despite their odd situation, Miller felt satisfied with life in every sense of the word. Her fears had vanished. She could tell by the look on Scratch’s face that he felt it too, a real sense of security.
“They must have something else to wear in this place,” Miller said. “I really don’t want to get back into those dirty clothes.”
She looked around. The old clothes had already been removed. That seemed strange.
Scratch was rooting around in the closet opposite the bathroom. His muffled voice came from inside. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in this.”
“In what?”
Scratch emerged from the closet, still buck naked. He held a hanger which held a tiny red bikini. It was fairly modest by modern standards, but for Miller it seemed revealing enough to make her blush. Evidently Scratch was looking forward to seeing her in it. He waved the bikini in the air, and wiggled his eyebrows. Much to Miller’s surprise, he was already getting a chubby again.
“Scratch, we just spent an hour in the shower naked as jaybirds. What’s that thing going to do for me? Or you?” Miller tried to look stern but ultimately cracked a smile.
“I just thought we’d go down there and check out the waves.”
Her face fell. “I’m not sure I want to leave our stuff here.”
“What stuff? The hotel staff took our ratty clothes. We have a few dollars on the table over there. We’ve lost our ride, our weapons, and just about everything else we once owned. The way I see it, this is a fresh start. Let’s enjoy it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“Don’t get me started.” But in her heart, she had to agree. Maybe this good feeling was for real. Maybe it would last. There had already been one hell of a lot of worse things. Maybe they’d reached their shit storm limit. Maybe it was time for some good things to take place.
Scratch held out the bikini. “Penny?”
Miller shrugged. “Bikinis were never really my style.”
She took the hanger from him anyway.
CHAPTER THREE
MALIBU SERENITY CENTER
“I’m beginning to see why half of North American wants to move to California,” Scratch said. The bright sun flattered his lean frame. “The people are kind of weird but the weather is flat fucking amazing.”
They walked down the stretch of private beach. The sand was warm beneath their feet. Miller felt good in her little red bikini. A girl didn’t have much of a weight problem when she’d been on the run for months, fighting for her life. Her body was looking lean and strong. The wear and tear of the last few desperate months had hardened her muscles and burned away flab. Scratch didn’t look half bad either in his board shorts. He looked at her and winked. Sea birds floated lazily above them, their cries covered by crashing waves. It was a beautiful day.
Miller felt a bit off balance. Should they really have been having so much fun, all things considered? Her mind kept wandering down long, dark corridors and back toward disturbing memories of the horrors she’d recently witnessed, the people she’d seen slaughtered, the hordes of zombies she’d laid to rest. She’d think of Terrill Lee, the destruction of her hometown and other painful memories, but then they’d all just float away to remain moored in the distance like those little sailboats anchored offshore. The Center was so peaceful, so relaxing. There was no room to allow her to become depressed. Even the thought of the zombie horde reaching Malibu—which she knew was certain to happen at some point—caused her very little new anxiety. She and Scratch would handle it. Hadn’t they always managed to come out on top? Why worry about that now?
“It’s so pretty here.”
Miller walked on, at peace for once. She enjoyed the sand between her toes. Her shoulders felt hot, as if she already had a touch of sunburn. There were other couples out and about. Everyone smiled pleasantly, just like the staff, but no one seemed to want to get drawn into a genuine conversation. Two teenaged boys were tossing a football back and forth. A dog ran between them, barking with joy. Sea birds swooped down and occasionally plucked a struggling fish from the rolling, white-capped waves. All was right with the world. Life and death went on elsewhere, but not in this bubble. Here, everything was picture perfect.
Time hung suspended. The universe shrank to embrace them like a lover. The beach was warm and the cool air fresh and clear. The rhythmic swoosh of the waves was soothing and hypnotized them both. They walked back and forth along the strand, turning back only when they saw a concrete boundary. They walked back and forth and back and forth. If the Serenity Center had stationed armed guards around the perimeter, Miller thought mildly, the sentries were certainly discreet. Perhaps the place was exactly what it claimed to be? The very question made her hesitate. She blinked until the numbness went away.
Miller said, “Let’s go back.”
“Why?” Scratch asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Let’s just go.”
Miller led the way. The late winter sun was sinking down into the southwest beyond the horizon when Scratch and Miller finally returned from the beach. A boat far out to sea blew a horn. The sea was a palate of colors drifting slowly into a cool darkness. A few stars already winked high above, where a half-moon waited to be noticed.
The beach was still sparsely populated with other Serenity Center residents. Once again, the others stayed pretty much to themselves. No one spoke. Each of the residents, or couples, seemed lost in their own thoughts. Scratch and Miller had been having too much fun to bother chasing down another denizen of the beach, especially to ask rude questions. Miller realized how badly she’d wanted to suspend disbelief, just pretend there was no other world to worry about. No zombie apocalypse, no Army scientists, no experimental zombie virus in her bloodstream waiting to torment her again. She deserved a break. Her life had been so stunningly complicated before tonight. The exquisite simplicity of making love to Scratch and walking on the beach had been a little taste of heaven. She needed to get back to work, but didn’t really want to work. She tried to focus on the others they had left behind in Colorado. Rat the beautiful mercenary soldier; Sheppard, the man who had helped to start the virus at the Army lab he’d nicknamed Crystal Palace. Their faces remained blurry to her
now, their memories weirdly out of context.
The Serenity Center was lit up with spotlights when they walked closer, making it seem like a brand new amusement park. It twinkled like a magic castle, dazzling when set against the steadily darkening sky. Miller and Scratch held hands most of the way. The sea breeze had begun to cool and Miller’s exposed skin got a wave of goose bumps. They arrived at the main building.
When they came back inside the lobby, Ramon was waiting with two plush white bathrobes. They took the comfortable robes, which bore the Serenity Center logo, and covered up.
“Did you enjoy yourselves?” This time Ramon did grin, as if reading their thoughts. Miller realized that he had a pleasant smile. He wasn’t such a bad guy.
“Yes, very much,” said Miller. She almost giggled. She was feeling fine, as if the afterglow of sex was still upon her.
“Excellent. Orientation is about to start. Your questions will be answered shortly. Would you both follow me, please?”
Miller snuggled into her warm bathrobe. She held Scratch’s hand and they walked through the Serenity Center towards orientation. She wanted to worry about what was to come, but couldn’t. Scratch looked so handsome, his long hair clean through and through—she had seen to that personally. Ramon led them beyond the elevators and down another long, glassed-in corridor. Miller looked out the tall windows as they walked down the carpet. She thought she saw some armed men—security guards, perhaps—on patrol. They were there all right, but very discreet, which was a good thing, of course; or had Miller only imagined them being armed? She looked back again, but by then they were gone.
That’s just plain old paranoia, Miller told herself. No one was out there. Relax.
The hallways were virtually empty. Where were all the other people now? Had they gone back to their rooms? Still on the beach, perhaps, or gathered in a meeting area? Ramon glanced back at Miller. He had that same soft smile on his face. Miller smiled back, but the thought of armed soldiers had given her a tiny burst of adrenaline and the sweet afterglow feeling was beginning to fade. Paranoia has its uses, Penny. It has saved your life more than a few times… Think.
