by Annie Walls
“Oh, they use them for lab testing and whatever else no one wants to do, like clean toilets—on good behavior,” Mac says, as if he didn’t just say something completely foul.
Rudy looks at his food and drops his fork. “What do you mean by lab testing?”
“Medicinal, surgical, and a whole lot of zombie testing,” Mac replies, with no concern or thought.
“Zombie testing?” I croak, losing my appetite. Even Glinda is a little green.
Mac finally catches on and glancing between all of us. He swallows his food. “Zombies are changing. We need to try and figure out why. I’m almost sure they will be testing those vials, too.” Silence breaks out around the table. Mac leans back. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Those men are horrible human beings who were taking advantage of the situation.” He looks to me, “Have you forgotten what happened to you?”
“Comparing me to the others, I don’t think I had it as bad. I wasn’t there long enough, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”
He stares at me. “Were you raped?”
Everyone holds their breath and peers at me. Leave it to Mac to be blunt about it. I try to keep my cool. “Joshua did not have his way with me, if that is what you’re asking.”
Rudy and Reece exchange a glance, and they are probably wondering about Gray since they walked in on the scene. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out, so I’m almost positive they already know.
Mac stands abruptly. “Shit. I need a fucking cigarette.” He leaves without another word.
I fiddle with my bracelet and avoid Rudy and Reece’s stares. Glinda stacks everything and gives it to Reece in a big pile. “Yew two need ta go. I’ll stay with Suga tonight.”
Rudy’s mouth opens as if to argue, but she gives him the look. He stands, grabbing half of Reece’s load.
“See ya, little lady,” Reece says softly.
“You too, Peanut Butter.”
Glinda gives Reece a kiss not made for TV, and I open the door for them. Reece leaves first, and Rudy leans down to me. “I’ll see you soon.” His breath is warm on my cheek before he kisses it. He slips Glinda a huge smile and takes his leave.
Glinda sighs. “All this space, and I can tell yew feel smothered.”
I give her a small smile. “They can’t help it. I haven’t been myself.” In fact, I haven’t ever been myself.
“I know, Suga. Time will help, but if yew want ta be alone, just say so.”
“Thing is, I thought I did, but I don’t.”
Glinda curls up with me after that and we talk some things out. I tell her some details I haven’t told anyone else.
“Can yew stomach the thought of being with someone, Suga? Yew know…intimately?”
“Glinda, I haven’t thought about it much.”
“I think yew will be fine, given time. Just eat. Get some rest. We have time before Mago shows up.”
I sigh. “Hey Glin?”
“I ain’t gonna tell anybody. Yew should know, they already suspect.”
“Thanks.”
She does make me feel better. My eyes start to droop without any nasty thoughts turning through my mind. Maybe Glinda is right and time is what I need.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A snail can crawl faster than this week is going. Glinda has stayed with me for three nights, today being our third morning. I’ve managed to avoid everyone else. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she said something to keep them away. We went on walks, cooked food with a burner I acquired from the marketplace, and kept the fire blazing. She talked and I listened as we both tried to keep my words to a minimum. Mainly though, I slept more than I ever have.
I’ve managed to avoid going outside the fence. Last night, famished were at the fence as we walked by. No one noticed, but they stood there following me with their eerie scrutiny—reminding of the zombie in New Orleans and the zombie that had attacked Reece when we were looting for furniture. Luckily, Guido’s guys shot them down. I came right to the loft and have been here ever since. I don’t know what I’m going to do when my time is up. How am I going to keep this from people until I figure out what it is?
This morning I woke up feeling the best I’ve felt in a long time. My limbs are no longer heavy. I’d go on a run if I didn’t attract zombies.
Reece eats breakfast with us this morning, and I swear, he is flirting with Glinda and vice versa. I guess they can’t take much more of spending nights apart. It makes me feel bad for taking her attention away.
I’m pushing around my food and feeding bits to Dex when she does this giggle-groan thing. Several different scenarios and positions featuring them two flash through my mind. I squeeze my eyes tight when Reece chuckles deep in his throat.
“Okay, that’s it. Both of you. Get out.” I point my arm toward the door. Glinda’s face shows amusement as she twirls a golden strand around her shiny red fingernail, but I ignore it and continue, “I need to focus on the laptop today. The damn thing isn’t coming up with a sequence, and I definitely don’t want to be picturing both of you going at it doggy style.”
Reece’s eyebrows shoot up, and he tries not to grin.
“Let’s go, Reece.”
Damn them and their easy stress-releasing antics.
After they leave, I glance out the window. The sun peaks through all the clouds. Someone is working in the greenhouse, trimming the trees. I hope I never have to work in a greenhouse again.
A few hours go by as I try to tune up the laptop, hoping to make it a little faster. I should have done it before, but I had been happy that it worked at all. I sigh as I restart the program and it starts all over.
Since I’ve had a lot of time to think, there’s something else I need to do, and I can do it now while no one is paying me any mind. I’m more worried about zombies than anything else, but I’ll manage.
After gearing up, I head out to the parking lot, thinking I can take the jeep. A few of Guido’s men are at the gate as Rudy’s truck pulls in. Where has he been? I move behind other vehicles to avoid being seen. Climbing inside the jeep, I can do nothing but stare at the empty gas gauge. Maybe if I make this a looting trip for Guido, he’ll supply me some gasoline.
My plan is short lived, however, because Rudy watches me get out as he leans against the back of the jeep. The fence a few yards away jiggles, and Rudy peers over to the famished there. His eyebrows screw up at their weird behavior. I try to take the heat off the famished and me in one go. “Where have you been?”
The famished forgotten, his eyes shoot to me. A grin forms, “It’s a secret. For future reference, if you want to sneak around, a bright green jacket isn’t the way to do it.”
I glance down at the hoodie I looted in New Orleans. “I wasn’t trying to sneak around. I need to run an errand.”
“What do you need? I can see if—”
“I need to go to the library.”
Gunshots erupt, taking down the lingering zombies. Now I realize how antsy they were making me. We watch as Guido’s men drag the corpses into a pile to be set on fire. Rudy stands up straight and glances at me. “Let’s go before it starts to smell.”
*
“What are we looking for?” he asks, taking in the darkened library. The musty smell isn’t bad, but underneath, it’s books. The smell of them always triggers memories of my dad. I take out a small flashlight from my pack, but Rudy goes to the nearest window.
“Medical journals. Whatever we can find for about ten years before the outbreak,” I say.
He pulls on the heavy wooden blinds to raise them. Dust floats in the air right before the blinds come crashing down on top of him. “Damn!” Jumping out of the debris, he shoots me a disbelieving look. “What the hell for?” His hands swipe down his leather jacket and jeans to remove dust. His expression speaks volumes about all the things he’d rather do than sit around reading medical journals.
I suppress a grin. “I want to know what kind of doctor Finnegan is. I asked him, and he completely evaded
the question. It might not tell us anything, but it could be important and tell us a lot.” Rudy freezes and peers at me thoughtfully, I continue, “I know it’s a long shot, but he could be mentioned.” I shrug, “I don’t have much else to do, might as well use my time wisely.”
“It’s a good idea.”
We gather a heap of them and sit side by side at the nearest table, trying not to be discouraged by all the journals available. Remembering things my dad mentioned after the outbreak, I start with any that mention the CDC with dates closest to the outbreak. Rudy starts going through indexes to find Finnegan. I read for a while, mainly about the CDC denying any viruses that would present any zombie-like symptoms after a stream of incidents involving cannibalism and aggression. There are also a lot of articles on a hepatitis A outbreak. Surprisingly, the CDC had a public health campaign using the threat of zombies to keep people prepared for a major disaster. So did Homeland Security.
Sliding the articles over, I show them to Rudy. “Lot of good that did, Darlin’. According to Mac, they were one of the first to get hit.”
“Exactly. If you’re going to start a revolution, you’ve got to take out all the important people. Which now leads me to believe this guy is smart enough not to get mentioned or make a big name for himself. Finnegan didn’t want any recognition.” I glance at our stack of journals in dismay, not believing I’m wasting my time trying to find out.
I read through indexes. No mention of a Finnegan in any latest volumes.
The light from the window starts to dim as the late afternoon approaches. “You having any luck? I think I’ve talked myself out of my starting logic,” I ask Rudy and catch him staring at me. “What?”
The chair squeaks as he shifts. “You seem a lot better and your voice isn’t as bad.”
“I feel a lot better.”
“You look it, too.” Reaching up, he fiddles with a few of my yarn-sized dreads Glinda put in. His eyes go wide. “They’re soft.”
Clearing my throat, I say, “I’m going to take a bunch of these back.” There’s a whole stack Rudy switched out a little while ago we haven’t gone through yet. “At least I got out of the loft for a while.”
A soft laugh draws my attention to him. He’s shaking his head. “You still have a few days.”
“Not going to give it up, are you?” I ask before realizing how it sounds.
An impish grin forms across his face, and he leans the chair back on two legs. It groans in protest, and he slams it down. “There goes the idea of giving it up to you in this chair.”
The immediate mental picture the comment conjures makes me laugh. A light clicks on in his eyes as he laughs with me. I elbow him, “That would be our luck.” I’m only kidding, but when I think about it more, I doubt we’d care if the chair broke, or the table. Maybe even knock over a couple of bookshelves while we are at it. Surprise runs through me that I’m even thinking about it, and when I focus on Rudy, his face is stoic.
“We should get going,” he says, picking up some journals.
I clear my throat and gather some myself. He stands, “I’ll meet you at the truck. I want to get something.” A flashlight clicks on as he makes his way toward the darkened aisles with caution. I watch him move, feeling farther away from him than ever.
Stomping the other way, my pack weighs heavily on my back, and when I open the front door of the library, I find that zombies surround the place.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They stand there, watching me. Shit. A snarl breaks through the crowd as a zombie comes running from it. I slam the door, trying not to panic. Leaning against the door, I calm my breathing. The thump from the other side makes me jump back. Maybe whatever is happening to me doesn’t work with all zombies. Still, after I take this one out, Rudy will inevitably notice the others watching me. Am I ready to tell him? How can I explain it? “Why can’t they act like zombies for once? Like the moaning, clawing, hungry, chasing after us kind?” I grumble to myself. Moans erupt as more beating on the door ensues. “Oh. Well, okay.”
There has to be a back way in and out. The darkness of the aisles looms ahead as I rush toward the back of the library. The smell of books gets stronger the deeper I go. I notice the dim light right before I smack into Rudy. His flashlight balances on something and falls to the floor.
“Kan?”
“Famished. Out front. We need to go out the back way,” I tell him as I bend to swipe up his flashlight. The beam bounces off his features, and I’m momentarily taken aback at what’s in his hands.
I stand stunned, and he speaks. “Wow. It hurts you looked surprised I can read.”
I’m not sure why I’m amazed at his handful of fiction novels. “Here, put them in my pack.” I turn and feel the weight as he shoves them in. The straps cut into my shoulder. “Damn. I’m not sure I can run with this load.”
“I’ll go get the truck if you cover my back.” He hands me his bow and quiver full of arrows.
“There are a lot of them,” I say, knowing I should be the one to go.
His lips turn up as he holds a hand to his heart. “Then I’m ever grateful you’re here with me, so we can make it out alive.”
“Smartass. You just want to be the one to run them over with the truck.” Still worried about the zombies, I hold up my hands for paper, rock, scissors. He smiles, obliging me.
Shaking our fists three times and throwing out our hands, he laughs. “I knew you’d pick the sharp object.” He taps his rock over my scissors.
We head out onto a tall metal landing with stairs going down to our left just as zombies come running around the corner on the right. What the hell?
Shortly confused at how fast the famished caught on to where we are, Rudy pulls my machete, and I drop the pack for fluid movement.
“I’m not as fast at shooting as you,” I warn him.
“You got me,” he states and doesn’t wait for a response. He jumps off the landing, arching his arm and slicing into a famished on the way down. Blood spurts as the zombie gargles, but Rudy rushes off.
Blood pumps faster through my body as I notch and shoot some in close proximity. He ducks when arrows fly by him. Thankfully, the zombies bypass him and run after me. I don’t think he notices as bodies land with hard thuds. Sweat forms on my hairline when he disappears around the corner. I keep shooting zombies, listening for the start of the truck, but it never comes. “Come here,” I shout. Minutes seem to tick by as more zombies round the corner. When the roaring of the truck echoes, relief flows through me. It bounds around the corner, taking out zombies the whole way. It stops, and I grab my pack to hop in.
Rudy’s covered in zombie fluids and breathing heavy as he speeds off. He grins, “See? I knew you’d have my back.”
My body starts to tremble and I glance out the window as we pass zombies. He grabs my shaking hand, “Hey. We’re okay.”
I nod and continue staring out the window.
*
Not being able to shake my gut full of guilt, which is my typical state lately, I pace around my room. By the time I hear loud clanking outside, I’ve identified each weak spot in the wood floor. Opening my door, I’m in time to see Rudy toss giant square posts in the grass under the escape.
He’s washed up since our earlier errand, but blood still covers his clothes. “What are you doing?” I call down to him.
Looking up, he points to the stairs. “Rigging the fire escape, so it’s more stable.”
I smile. “What’s that saying, the bigger they are the harder they fall? Afraid of falling?”
“No, I’m afraid you’ll fall.”
“Oh,” I say as warmth spreads through my chest. Remembering climbing them crab style a few days ago, I’m touched he thought of it. “Thanks. Need some help?”
He gives me smile before he glances at all the wood. “Nah, I’m just going to measure and cut.”
For a while into the night, I thumb through journals and listen to the sounds of a skill saw. I call it quits when my
eyes start to hurt from the dim lighting of one little lamp across the room. From the lack of noise outside, I believe Rudy called it quits, too. Looking out, all of the supplies are neatly stacked and put away for the night. The fence a few yards away from his work area shakes from the famished. I slam the door closed, hoping they’ll be taken out soon.
Nibbling on leftover fruit from this morning, I stare in dismay at the computer ticking off sequences. It does seem like it’s going faster than before. This tidbit perks me up a bit.
A knock sounds at the door, but I keep working on the computer assuming whoever it is will make themselves known. No such luck, this time it sounds like a kick thumping the bottom of the door.
I jump up instantly alert. Blood rushes through my body as my heart picks up speed. I strain to hear outside, but it’s so silent the buzz of the lamp and a few crackles of the dying fire is all I hear. Another thump at the bottom of the door as something shifts on the landing. A pounding starts in my head. Zombies can’t open doors, but how would a zombie get through both fences? Might be possible to have one on the loose from the Clap Trap. Cocking the rail on one of my pistols, I step to the door as it thuds again, fully ready to get rid of a famished corpse from the fire escape. I crack the door to find Rudy standing there with a gigantic box.
My heart still pounds, but I’m relieved and put my gun to my forehead. It probably looks like I’m cooling off with the butt of it. Why do I let myself get worked up? This zombie magnetism is a number one priority to get rid of as soon as Mago shows his face.
“Come in,” I say and hold the door open, sticking the gun in my jeans behind me. He doesn’t take his eyes off me when he walks in.
The cardboard skids on the table as he places the box down. He shrugs out of a leather jacket, leaving a dark brown hoodie on. It takes a minute to realize he’s smiling at me with an odd expression. “What can you be scared of?” Stretching his arm out, he thumbs the gun resting at the small of my back.
