“What you’re doing is taking an eye for an eye!”
Aaron’s eyes narrow at the speaker. “Wilkinson injured one of your fellow survivors! If he isn’t punished, what’s to keep him from doing it again? Do you want your daughter to be the next ones to suffer from his wrath and fury?”
The man who objected shuts up and pulls his daughter closer to his side.
“That’s what I thought,” Aaron says coldly, looking at the rest of the room again. “This is where things get difficult. What kind of punishment is fitting for the crime he committed? I can’t throw him out and leave him to die. I can’t charge him with aggravated assault and imprison him. I can’t put him on probation. So, this is what I’ve settled on,” he says, bringing the whip out from behind his back.
There’s a collective gasp from the room as people take in the long, black leather torture device in Aaron’s hands.
“This isn’t ideal, and I’m by no means happy to be doing this, but something has to be done. Now, I want all of you to hear me when I say this: the bartering system is over! There will be no more trading sex for food. If I hear of anyone else participating in this, you will be punished!”
Aaron turns around and shifts his grip on the whip. He raises his hand and flicks his wrist, and the thin end of the whip drags across Wilkinson’s back, slicing open the smooth, bare skin. Blood immediately wells up and begins to flow down his back in a thin stream. For a minute, Aaron just stands there, still holding the whip, almost as if he can’t believe what he’s just done. While Aaron comes to terms with his role as punisher, the survivors all look on with some form of horror.
Aaron raises his hand, and Wilkinson is lashed a second time, and a third time, and a fourth time, and a fifth time. By the fifth lash, some of the survivors are sneaking out of the main entrance, while others remain fixed on Wilkinson’s back as the blood smears across it, turning his back into nothing more than a shredded piece of flesh that slowly oozes red. Wilkinson trembles, and his legs buckle out from under him. He slumps to the ground, and he doesn’t move again.
“I think he’s unconscious,” Felicia says quietly. Her honey-colored eyes are wide and fearful, and I wonder if she’ll be scared of Aaron after today.
“Dr. Harlan, I want you to get him cleaned up as best as you can.” Aaron’s eyes have a far-off, unfocused appearance to them, and I wish I could take a peek inside his mind. I wish I could tell how he’s feeling at this moment, because he looks like he’s ready to snap. “Everyone else…leave!” His tone leaves no room for argument, and the remaining survivors all scatter from the room as fast as they can.
Dr. Harlan rushes forward to undo the cuffs, and he and two soldiers half carry and half drag Wilkinson from the room. I wave Daisy and Felicia toward the nearest exit, leaving me alone with a confused looking Aaron. For a minute after everyone has gone, he and I just stare at each other, neither of us moving or speaking. Then his hand begins to tremble, and he looks down and sees the blood dripping from the end of the whip.
With a disgusted cry, he throws the rip away as if it were a venomous snake, and his entire body gives one giant shudder. “Maddy, I–”
“It’s alright, Aaron,” I say, rushing forward to wrap my arms around him. “It’s alright. You did what you had to do,” I tell him quickly, hoping to dissuade whatever guilt he’s feeling at the moment. “Wilkinson needed to be punished. If you hadn’t done it, who knows what the other soldiers might have done. Who knows what Wilkinson might have done; I feel much safer knowing that he’s been punished.”
“I just whipped a man, Maddy.” He sits down on one of the benches lining the walls, and I take a seat beside him. “God help me, I just whipped him until his skin split open and his back was covered in blood. He lost consciousness from the pain—the pain that I caused! What have I done?”
“You did what needed to be done. Don’t ever forget that. You got justice for me in a cruel, lawless world. You made sure that nothing like what happened to me will happen to anyone else here. Aaron, you’re our leader, and being the leader means you have to make the tough choices, sometimes without anyone to help you. For what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone else could have put aside whatever misgivings they had to do what needed to be done. You weren’t comfortable with this, but you did it anyways, because you thought it needed to be done.”
He looks at me, and I can see the pain in his eyes. “What if it wasn’t the right thing to do? I feel like some kind of sadist!”
“Did you enjoy hurting him?”
“Of course not!”
“Then you have nothing to worry about. You didn’t want to cause him harm, but you knew he had to be punished. Don’t let this get to you, Aaron. You’re strong, and you need to show these people that you’re not going to cave under the stress or the pressure.”
He puts his hands on his knees and ducks his head. His shoulders heave with either a sob or a dry heave. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
There’s a trashcan at the end of the bench, and I drag it in front of Aaron. The second my hand is out of the way, Aaron’s shoulders give another violent heave as he pukes. I look away, trying to give him some sort of privacy, but I still notice that not a lot seems to come up. “When was the last time you ate, Aaron?”
“I skipped dinner last night to go over the supply lists, and then I didn’t eat breakfast, either. I was hoping that if I skipped out on the eggs, I might not get sick after dealing with Wilkinson.”
“Come on,” I say, dragging him to his feet. “If you’re done puking, we need to get some food in you. Maybe there’s some leftover eggs and sausage. There was even homemade bread this morning that you missed out on.”
“I’ll eat later. The ladies are making more bread for lunch, but right now, I’m needed in the gymnasium. We’re not taking a break from training just because of this.” He looks at me and frowns. “Do you wanna sit in on the training? Or do you have something else you need to do?”
“I don’t know if I can help, but I’ll definitely keep you company. It’s not like I’ll be much use elsewhere.”
*****
Todd looks at me with obvious disinterest. He clearly doesn’t want to be here, but I get the feeling that Janelle is making him, and I wonder about the extent of their relationship. “So, how much do you know about self-defense?” I ask, hoping to make small talk, but knowing that he’ll probably ignore my attempts once again.
He decides to actually answer me this time. “I know a bit. I’m amazing at everything I do,” he says, flashing me an arrogant smile.
From my spot in the first row of the red bleachers, I roll my eyes at him, making sure that he can see it. Surprisingly, he chuckles, and I love the sound of it. It sounds almost carefree, yet still dark—almost like Todd doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance to laugh again. And given our current circumstances, he might not.
“Alright people, listen up,” Aaron says, barring me and Todd from continuing our short conversation. “I want you all to partner up and practice that lunge I showed you guys the other day. You remember the one I’m talking about right?” There are a few quiet mumbles from around the room, and Aaron looks almost sad at how uncomfortable these people obviously are around him. “Alright then. Get to practicing.”
Aaron walks around the gym, supervising the pairs as they practice a lunge meant to stab a zombie in the side of the head before it gets within biting distance. Todd is left alone without a partner, and I get up off the bleachers with a groan. Todd opens his mouth to object, but I wave my hand, silencing his protests. “Sitting around is going to help me feel any better. Maybe if I get up and move a bit I won’t be so sore.”
“I wasn’t here when he taught this lunge. You wanna show me how it’s done?” he asks. His momentary worry at my expense is long gone, and he’s ready to be a distant jerk again. “If you can’t show me the move, you may as well sit back down rather than wasting my time.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I hook my f
oot around his left leg and give it a little jerk, pulling it farther away from his right one. “Keep your feet farther apart for balance, or you’ll risk falling and then you’ll end up with your throat ripped out before anyone can help you.” Todd and I glare at one another, no longer pretending to be cordial with one another. “Make a fist and pretend you’re holding a knife, or you’ll just look stupid.”
“Oh I think I’ll look stupid either way,” he mutters, doing as he’s told.
“Now, pretend that I’m a zombie, and lunge at me. You’re gonna be aiming for either side of my head. Just make sure to keep your hand away from my mouth or you’ll get bitten, and that would suck for you.”
He hesitates, and his eyes narrow as he looks me up and down. “Are you really gonna bite me?”
Is he serious? “Yes, Todd. I’m really gonna bite you,” I say flatly, hoping he realizes how much he’s annoying me.
I shuffle forward, aiming for the shambling gait of a decomposing body, and he prepares himself for my attack. When I come within reach, he lunges forward, hoping to place his free hand against my chest to keep me at bay while stabbing me in the side of the head with his other hand, all in one swift movement.
But that’s not what happens.
Instead, Todd trips over his untied boot lace, and he plows headfirst into my chest, colliding with my collarbone and knocking both of us to the floor. I land on my bruised back with a gasp of pain, while Todd falls on top of me, digging his elbow into my hip. For a second, the two of us just lay there—me because I’m trying to fight the pain in my body, and him because he’s trying to figure out what happened.
I take a deep breath. “You didn’t take ten seconds to tie your fucking shoes? How did you survive so long on your own?”
He pushes himself up and he narrows his eyes at me. “I’m great at surviving; you’re just a shitty teacher!”
I plant my hands on his chest and shove as hard as I can, sending him rolling off of me. His shoulder slams into the hard gymnasium floor, and the two of us slowly get to our feet, both battling our own kind of pain. We take a quick second to gather ourselves, before I straighten up and look at him. “Alright, tie your shoes, and we’ll try that again.”
Without looking at me, he bends down and swiftly ties his dirty, scuffed brown boots that have probably seen better days. When he’s done, he shifts his feet apart, preparing for another attack. My back is throbbing and killing me, but I refuse to back out now and look weak. After a few deep breaths, I shuffle forward again, ready for whatever Todd thinks he can do.
He lunges again, and this time he doesn’t put nearly the same amount of force behind his attack, and I easily swat his hand away. My hands wrap around his throat, and I inch closer to his face and whisper, “You’re dead.” He shoves me away and takes a quick step back. “Again! And this time, don’t take it easy on me, or I’ll rip your throat out.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he says, trying to look worried about me.
But I see right through his excuse, and I know exactly how to get him to try again. “Liar. You just don’t want me to make a fool of you. Now come on. Again!”
He lunges at me a third time. I quickly sidestep his wild attack and shove him off balance, sending him down to the floor. “Now you’re losing your temper and you’re getting careless. If you don’t get that temper under control, you’ll get yourself or someone else killed.”
His hands tremble by his sides as he fights to control his temper. “You’re trying to piss me off.”
“I’ve already done that,” I say lightly, flashing him a brilliant smile. “You’re furious and you can’t beat me, even though I’m stiff and sore. You’re useless. It’s a miracle that you survived this long. I mean, you’re hardly the kind of guy I would expect to outlast the zombie apocalypse.”
His hands clench into tight fists.
“What’s the matter, Todd? Are you having a bad day? Did you run out of eyeliner and black hair dye?”
He lunges at me again, this time abandoning all restraint. When he comes within reach, I duck under his arm and come up behind him, thumping him on the back with my fist. He pitches forward, landing on the hard gymnasium floor. He just lies there for a minute, and as I watch, his shoulders relax and his entire body goes lax.
“You’ve got quite a temper on you,” I say, staring down at him.
“Yeah, I do,” he admits. “But I bet you do, too.”
“I’ve been learning to get mine under control though. You should probably work on that. Anger will only get you killed these days.”
He gets to his feet and turns to look at me with a steely expression on his face. “You’re wrong. Anger helps us to fight these things. I just think about losing everyone I ever loved or cared about, and it drives me to destroy those fucking things. Maybe you should get a little angry. It might save your life.”
Before I can answer him, there’s a shot from near the gymnasium exit. One exit leads into the hall and to the main entrance, but the other leads straight out into the street. We’ve boarded it off, but the window is uncovered, and someone rushes over to see what’s going on when the shooting doesn’t stop. “There’s gotta be at least a hundred of those things out there!”
Everyone looks to Aaron, momentarily forgetting his disturbing punishment from earlier. Some of the younger trainees start to whimper in fear, and they crowd around Aaron, hoping to be protected by their leader. Right now, it doesn’t matter that earlier they saw him savagely whip a man into unconsciousness—all that matters is he’s their best chance of survival and keeping the peace.
“Don’t worry!” Aaron shouts, straining to be heard over the sound of rapid gunfire. “I’m sure the soldiers have it under control. Why don’t we all—”
Something slams into the gymnasium exit and one of the soldiers pounds on the doors. “Let me in!” he screams. Before anyone can move, a bloody, bony hand reaches around and wraps itself around the soldier’s throat, pulling him away from the door. He has time for one scream before it cuts off and blood splatters against the window.
Everyone in the gymnasium starts screaming and moving toward one of the exits, but Aaron holds them back as more screaming and shooting starts. These new sounds aren’t coming from anybody in the gymnasium. For a minute, Aaron holds us back, waiting for something to happen. Just as everyone gets ready to push past Aaron regardless of his orders, Michael bursts through the doors, flanked by two more bloody soldiers.
“They’ve broken down the fence and breached the main entrance!”
Chapter Seven
Aaron immediately springs into action, ignoring the terrified wailing and gunfire. “Get as many men as you can to the front entrance! We’ll try to hold them—”
“They’ve already moved on to the cafeteria. They overran a squad of men at the front entrance and they’re going after survivors. I’m not sure what we can do,” Michael admits, looking freaked out and out of breath. “They’re so damn fast and there are just too many of them! Well over a hundred.”
“Gather up as many of our remaining men as you can, find a secure location—like the stairwell between the cafeteria and the English department—and defend it. Hold the line as long as you can. I’ll get to the weapons storeroom and I’ll hand out weapons. When the survivors have been armed, we’ll arrive and give you a hand. Can you do that for me, Michael?”
Michael doesn’t look sure that the soldiers will stand a chance, but he nods his head anyways. “We’ll do our best. Just hurry up with those guns or we’ll be sitting ducks.” He and the two soldiers with him run out into the hall, and I try not to think about how this might be the last time I ever see Michael or any of the other survivors.
“Aaron, what are we gonna do?”
He looks at me, and I can see the panic in his eyes. “I’m going to the weapons storeroom. I want you to come with me.”
“You got it,” I say, looking over at Todd. “What about you?”
“I’ve gotta fi
nd Janelle!” he says, lurching toward the door and disappearing into the hallway. The other survivors run after him, and I wonder how many of them will die before they find their loved ones.
Aaron runs out into the hall, and I follow him, trying not to listen to the screaming and the gunfire that seems to be coming from every direction. When we run through the main entrance, my foot slips in a pool of blood and I slide into Aaron’s back. He reaches out to steady me. “Don’t look,” he commands, trying to shield me from the carnage of the main entrance. He can’t shield me from this though, no matter how badly he might want to.
There are several bodies scattered around the main entrance, lying in puddle of sticky blood. I try not to look at what’s left of some of their faces, but I notice the soldier that passed out food in the cafeteria, and one of the soldiers that routinely helped Aaron with training demonstrations. There isn’t much left of their faces, but for the most part, they remain intact.
“The zombies must have moved on to other live victims. They’ll come back to finish these off later,” Aaron says softly. He and I both know we shouldn’t linger here, especially with the building under attack, but we remain rooted to the spot, unable to look away from our fallen comrades.
Finally, Aaron and I tear ourselves away from the mess of bodies near the main entrance, and we dash down the hall, past the old principal’s office. We pass a zombie chewing on Dr. Harlan’s neck, and Aaron swiftly removes a gun from the holster on his belt, aims, and pulls the trigger. The bullet hits right between the eyes, and the zombie slumps forward as Aaron and I continue on our way to the storeroom.
It’s right across the hall from the food. Aaron pulls a small ring of keys from his pocket, fits one into the lock on the door, and we slide into the room, closing the door behind us. He picks up another handgun and hands it over to me. “Take your time and pick your shots. We don’t have a lot of ammo to spare,” he says, handing me two extra magazines.
Zombie Country (Zombie Apocalypse #2) Page 8
