Operation Z | Book 1 | Uprising

by Szepanski, G. D.

  What could this place be? Whatever it was, this couldn’t be good for Amy.

  The room held only the bed, and a cheap dresser pushed against the far wall. It would have functioned as a tiny bedroom unless it had been only a nursery. Someone had boarded the one window in the room up, but sunlight spilled in around the edges of the boards. Dim light trickled in from under the closed bedroom door. There remained only enough floor space for one to shuffle sideways around the sides of the bed. The place was unkept, tiny and cramped. Not a pleasant place to wake up in.

  She heard muffled voices and footsteps coming from outside of the room as the fog further cleared and she tried to wrap her mind around what had happened to her. Amy closed her eyes to feign unconsciousness. They threw the door open, and two sets of heavy boots stomped inside.

  “You can open your eyes, sweetheart. No need to fake it. That roofy we gave you would have worn off by now,” a rough male voice said.

  Amy eased her eyes open. She would exploit every advantage she discovered to get herself out of this situation.

  “There you go, sweet pea! My, my, my. You’re even hotter in the morning light. It helps to be awake, but I’ll take you either way, sweet thing.”

  He reached out and fondled her breasts and laughed as she winced from his rough touch. Weakness, she thought, don’t show any, but Amy couldn’t help herself. She needed to keep her wits to formulate an effective escape plan.

  “What’s your name honey pie?”

  Amy kept her mouth shut. Big and dumb reached out and slapped her across the face before she even saw it coming.

  “Hey! What’s the matter with you? No damaging the property! With the apocalypse, you know that food, weapons, and ass are the new currency. Get your ass out of here. Leave us alone for some private time.”

  “Sorry boss, but I didn’t want her disrespecting you,” big and dumb said before he left the room.

  She hadn’t been sure if she should be more worried, or relieved, now that she was alone with the boss. His eyes radiated lust as they washed over Amy’s naked body. He was tall and muscular with black hair as dark as midnight and a cruel snarl on his face. A jagged scar graced the left side of his face.

  “Ass may be currency sweet thing, but I just might keep you for myself. You’ve got to keep your followers happy or shaking in fear to survive during the apocalypse. OK, I don’t need your name. Tell me why you killed my men at the bridge?”

  A flash of understanding must have passed in her eyes because he smiled. How can she manipulate this goon and get herself free of this mess? Think, Amy. You’re smarter than this baboon.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering how we discovered it was you? We positioned an observation group up the road from the bridge. Unfortunately, they positioned themselves too far up the road to help the crew on the bridge. We won’t make that mistake a second time. They said you didn’t have any interest in the victims stopped on the bridge, so why did you kill my men?”

  Amy determined to give nothing away to the stupid brute. If she could buy her time, a chance to escape would come. She just needed to find his weakness and manipulate it. He stared straight through her as if he somehow read her mind.

  “OK, no need to answer me now. We’ll have some fun instead, sweet thing. Just remember if you don’t cooperate, then I’ll let all the boys have a go. Trust me, you don’t want that.”

  With his last comment, he dropped his pants and mounted her. Amy hoped for an opening, but this animal was smart enough to keep all his essential parts away from her mouth. Given a chance, she would bite anything off of him within reach to facilitate her escape and hopefully his death. Which ever occurred first wasn’t her concern. She had hurt before he started pounding into her, but now she ached with every thrust. He finished fast, thank goodness.

  “Oh, that was good honey. Yes, you’ll be my piece of ass for sure. You get some rest now and when I come back, you better be ready to start talking. The more you cooperate, the more pleasant your stay here will be.”

  ###

  Amy hadn’t meant to drift off to sleep, but the stress of being raped multiple times along with the residual effects from the drugs caused her to give in. Footsteps from outside the door woke Amy and returned her to the terrors of this little bedroom. The sadist was absent this time, and an old woman stepped inside instead. She was short and chubby with a weathered and wrinkled face. The mask she wore wasn’t a hard face, but you didn’t find any kindness reflected there either.

  She spoke with no preamble. “I would like to give you some food and some clothes, but I don’t want any problems. Understand? There are guards outside the room, and they won’t be so kind to you if you give me any problems.”

  Amy nodded since she needed food to keep her strength up. An escape while weak without any clothing would be a death sentence. She would accept any advantage offered to help her escape this nightmare.

  The woman unlocked Amy’s left hand and gave her a sandwich. With her legs and right arm still secured, Amy had no choice but to eat the lunch while she laid on her back.

  “It’s peanut butter on homemade bread. The protein should give you some energy.”

  After she finished the sandwich and the drink the woman gave her, Amy spoke for the first time. “I need to pee.”

  “I will unlock your bonds, but no funny business, missy. You can clean up in the bathroom, and there are clothes inside for you to wear. They barred the window in the bathroom, and if you take too long, the guards will come in and I guarantee that visit won’t be a pleasant one for you.”

  The woman unlocked Amy’s other hand and then her feet. When she stood, she found her legs wobbled. She led Amy to the bathroom, located right outside the door of her prison cell, and shoved her inside. The bathroom was small, dingy, and dirty, just like her prison cell with a bed. A toilet, sink, and shower along with a camera mounted in the room's corner made up the room. These sickos got off watching her everywhere.

  After she showered and used the stiff tattered towel to dry off, she found clothing to put on. They consisted of a worn-out oversized t-shirt and a threadbare pair of sweatpants. As Amy walked out of the bathroom, a guard grabbed her upper arm and shoved her back into the little room of hell. He slammed her door behind her, and the lock clicked back into place. One step toward freedom since she now had some clothing (but no shoes or even socks) and hadn’t been tied to the bed again.

  Amy explored the room. The furniture in the room consisted of a worn wood dresser and a twin-sized bed. There was one door (locked) and one window (boarded up). Inside of the dresser, she found more worn out pieces of clothing. No shoes and not even a pair of socks anywhere. Dust bunnies, dirt, and other unidentifiable debris were the only things under the bed and dresser. Nothing to use as a weapon or a tool to facilitate her escape. An unlocked trap door with a map leading to a secret exit would have helped. If it were a movie, she would have found the map along with a loaded automatic handgun.

  ###

  Footsteps trampled in the hallway and awoke Amy again. She chided herself for losing her edge and not being more alert. Be the hunter, Amy. The door burst open, and the degenerate animal had returned.

  “I hope you enjoyed your fine meal and your shower. When you cooperate, you get rewarded. When you don’t cooperate, let’s just say, you won’t like what happens then. Now let’s talk about what happened to my soldiers at the bridge.”

  Since Amy knew knowledge would be power, she kept her mouth shut. She would out wait him in silence to see what he might give away. She hoped he would give up something valuable to help her escape this nightmare. If only she could figure out what his weakness was. Once she knew his flaw, she would exploit it and be free.

  “Come on now, mom told me you talked. Don’t get all quiet on me. OK, let me start. My name is Zachary Taylor, and I am the President of the Republic of the White Mountains and the General of the White Mountain Militia. Those men you killed were confiscating equipment and supplies f
rom the enemies of the Republic. That makes you a traitor to our righteous cause. Of course, your work in other areas will help reduce your sentence.”

  Amy could tell this guy was a sadistic wacko with a god complex. He shared the name of the 12th President of the United States, thought rape, murder, and theft were OK in his own little republic. She couldn’t wait for the opportunity to kill this SOB in a slow and painful way.

  “You’ll be happy to know that the two women traveling with you are safe here now. They are getting acclimated as we speak. I’m sorry to say the two gentlemen you traveled with are both dead.”

  At the news of her brother’s demise, Amy trembled inside. They were idiots, but they were her family. Now she knew for sure no one would come to save her. Any chance of escape would be up to her alone.

  “We were trying to grab some stuff for ourselves at the bridge, nothing more.”

  “Oh, she talks after all. Nice to hear your sexy voice, baby. Stealing is a capital crime in the Republic. Good thing we killed those two guys with you. That will even things out and provide the justice our law demands. Well, get some rest, sweetie. I want you to be fresh for our fun time together later.”

  Amy’s stomach churned with his words, and she fought to keep her meager meal down. The sandwich hadn’t much, but she would need to eat to maintain her strength. When the time came, she needed the stamina to run or fight. With her brothers dead and the survival camp destroyed, where would she escape to now? She had no idea. Better to deal with one obstacle at a time.

  ###

  Days passed by, but Amy lost track of exactly how many. Life fell into a predictable pattern. Zachary Taylor would come into her room and rape her. Then she would get something to eat, and some time to clean up in the shower. She hadn’t figured out the location of her imprisonment or how many people made up the so-called Republic of the White Mountains. Amy saw a few different guards outside her door, but none ever spoke a word to her. She needed them to make a mistake and make it soon so she could find out how to finally make her escape.

  The only pleasant news from her captivity was Amy hadn’t had to fight off any zombies. Wherever they were located, it must have been isolated or barricaded from the rest of the dead world. If she hadn’t been made into a commodity for the leader's pleasure, it wouldn’t be such a grim life during the apocalypse.

  CHAPTER 25 - RON

  RON COULDN’T FIGURE out how they reached the point where Amy called all the shots. It had been her idea to travel north to the survival camp in New Hampshire she bragged so much about, and that plan didn’t work out for them. Then she planned to blockade the bridge to grab the sweet Airstream trailer and the Bounder RV, but this scheme had fallen apart too. Someone beat them to the bridge and now the three siblings tried to play catch up.

  So, Ron and Tim ran through the woods and tried to capture the trailer and the RV (if they were even really here). They raced toward a parking area Amy determined to be the ideal place for them to hide out in. Amy claimed the spot would only be a short distance up the road and they would reach it in minutes. She assured them the trailer and RV would be parked there ripe for the picking. When they reached the halfway point of their journey, they heard an explosion and then small arms fire erupted from the direction of the bridge.

  “Tim, pick up your pace! We need to move faster.” Tim had become used to eating too many doughnuts, like every other lazy out of shape cop. Ron dreamt of scoffing down surgery snacks while shaking down lucrative criminals. Instead, Ron pursued the hard way by fighting with towel heads in the scorching desert heat. The pig’s life like Tim chose would have been easier and more profitable than the military.

  The opening in the trees demarcated the hidden parking area up ahead of them. They were almost there. Their part of the plan was to find the trailer and or the RV and neutralize any opposition. They would prefer to capture the pickup truck and Airstream, but the older RV would have served their needs too. Then they would then pick up their women and their sister at the designated meeting place south of their current location. Easy peasy!

  Ron burst through the edge of the forest into the parking area with his weapon at the ready and he discovered, nothing. “Shit!” He yelled as Tim entered the clearing after him.

  “Where’s the trailer?” Tim said.

  Before he answered, Ron looked around them and watched the taillights of the trailer as they flashed further up the road. They came from the direction the two brothers just ran from, and the lights had almost made it to the bridge.

  “We can circle back around and take them out at the bridge,” Ron said.

  They reenter the trees at a full run and followed a more direct path back toward the bridge. Then Ron heard the boom, after a breath of scorching hot breeze passed by. The round missed his head by inches. What the hell! He turned to say something to his brother, but Tim wasn’t standing behind anymore. Ron spun around in confusion before he found the body that laid on the trail behind him. It had been his brother Tim at one time, but now half his face had disintegrated into a bloody pulp.

  The next round struck Ron, and his world turned black.

  ###

  Moans pierced through the darkness of Ron’s mind. He struggled to open his eyes, but his eyelids fought him like they were weighed down. Every breath he drew and each beat of his heart shot new spikes of pain throughout his body. There are zombies eating something near him, but he can’t tell what they’re eating. The blessed peace found only in darkness returned for him.

  ###

  This time voices cut through the darkness. Ron couldn’t decipher what they said or if they even spoke words. Any meaning escaped him. The voices were female, and as they shouted, he heard pumpkins smashed in the street. He hadn’t remembered decorating for Halloween already. Those were his last thoughts before the shadows overtook and claimed him again.

  ###

  Ron had that dream again where he flew through the air. He loved it when he had this dream. It made him feel free. It doesn’t hurt when he dreamed most days, but pain racked his body with each gasp for breath. In fact, his entire midsection throbbed with each raspy inhalation. As his eyes opened, Ron realized he wasn’t flying but being carried on a makeshift stretcher. Rather than an ambulance, an old VW Bus waited for him. As the door slammed shut and the engine coughed to life, his new friend, darkness returned to claim him.

  ###

  Voices again. I wish people would stop talking while I’m trying to sleep, Ron thought. He could hear words, but they lost all meaning to him. “He...lost...blood, I don’t know...I can do...” “... sacrifice, ...o negative.” “Why...care about this one?” “...about him. ...your best.” “Worst...become the new sacrifice.” Ron passed out again.

  ###

  The next time Ron awoke, the room was bright as the midday sun beamed through the windows. His throat burned like he had swallowed razor blades, and his core ached with the simple effort of taking a breath. Someone had connected an IV bottle to his arm and some clear fluid dripped into him. It didn’t appear to be an actual hospital room, even though it contained some basic hospital equipment. The equipment looked well used and old, like someone had purchased it at a hospital surplus sale. Either way, he remained alive.

  Ron looked around for a call button, but found none. He tried to call out, but no sound came out. His head spun as he tried to sit up, so sitting wasn’t an option. The small amount of movement he attempted wore him out, so he leaned back, and his eyes slammed shut. Before he submitted to sleep again, a beautiful redhead walked through the door.

  “Good to see you are finally awake. You were unconscious for three days. Let me go get the doctor so she can check your wounds.”

  Ron tried to speak, but with his raw, inflamed throat no sound came out. He nodded in recognition, but even this slight movement made him dizzy.

  “Don’t try to move yet. Your wounds did a lot of damage to your body. I’ll be back with the doctor in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.
”

  He became tired and sore from doing nothing but waking up so he would heed her advice. Then the murkiness slide back in, and he drifted off into unconsciousness.

  ###

  A bright light shined into his eyes and woke Ron sometime later. He couldn’t tell if five minutes or five days had passed since the pretty nurse visited his room. His throat was still a useless sore burning mess, and his midsection throbbed with pain. The person who shined the light into his eyes was an older but attractive blond lady wearing a lab coat.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. White. You suffered a serious gunshot wound to the chest. It broke a rib, but somehow you lucked out by not suffering any other major damage. I patched you up as best as I could, considering the situation. But, you still have a long road to travel before you fully recover. Do you understand?”

  Ron tried to speak, but it was still impossible, so he nodded. This time it didn’t make him dizzy, and he remained conscious. He mimed taking a drink, and this time the doctor nodded. She poured him half a glass of water.

  “Drink this slowly. You have been unconscious for three days now and haven’t eaten or drank anything. We need to build your strength up rather than throw up.”