Ominous Ordeal (Jane Zombie Chronicles Book 5)

by Gayle Katz

  “Just let me go,” I cry.

  “Not possible,” he replies. “Put her down on the exam table, boys,” he instructs the guards.

  The few moments of freedom seem even sweeter now that I’m strapped down and helpless again. I can feel my eyes tearing up and watering, as I spot one of Brie's researchers open a medicine cabinet and take out a bottle. He grabs the roll of paper towels sitting on top of the cabinet and walks back over to me.

  “Let me out of here!” I jerk around on the table, hopeful I can break free.

  “I’m trying to be nice. You have to pipe down. You can’t make such a scene.”

  “You want to be nice? Let me go! I need to get out of here!” I’m freaking out. I thought I didn’t have control before. Now I had even less and it scared the crap out of me.

  “Fine. We’ll play it your way,” he says as he pours the liquid into a paper towel, then covers my nose and mouth.

  I hold my breath, but that only lasts so long. The smell is gross, like the noxious odor at a gas station. Ugh! I try to move my head unsuccessfully and, after a couple of minutes of fighting, my whole body relaxes.

  Chapter 10

  ________________________________________

  I wake up when something rubs against me. Caressing me. When I open my eyes, I notice Malik walking away from me. What was he doing? Touching me? That was strange.

  Laid out on another medical exam table, I spot an unusual device right above me that I’ve never seen before. It’s got a somewhat squared-off ring that looks like a handle and it’s connected to a metal base that goes behind the exam table. I also see a shiny metal tray off to the side on a bedside table with wheels. This new place seems more high-tech than the last lab.

  I have to get out of here. On the plus side, I feel energized – hyper, even! I can’t even begin to explain how my focus has increased. I don’t know if it was the rest period or the medication, but some combination of the two must have worked wonders.

  I see Malik return with a huge needle. He wraps my arm with another tourniquet and jabs me with it.

  “Ow! What are you doing?”

  “Drawing additional blood samples.”

  “How often are you going to do that?”

  “Every hour, on the hour. It’s protocol.”

  “Protocol?”

  “Yes.”

  “After you finish, can you loosen these restraints? I can’t move.”

  “That’s the point of restraints. We can’t have you getting away from us again.”

  “But they’re digging into my skin. And it really hurts.”

  “No. I can’t. It’s against protocol. I’m sorry.”

  “Please. Haven’t I been through enough? For whatever little time I have left, I just want to be comfortable before you throw me back into hell.”

  “I-I’m not allowed.”

  “It’ll be our secret, OK? No one has to know and I’d be ever so grateful.”

  “Grateful? How grateful?”

  “Extremely grateful,” I stress.

  “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Nothing is right about this situation. It’s screwed up, but we can at least try to make it a little more… enjoyable, don’t you agree?”

  “Enjoyable? What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure, but listen – I know you were touching me.”

  “I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me. I liked it. It felt really nice, ya know? I haven’t had anyone touch me like that in a while. Would you like to touch me again? Maybe touch more of me?”

  “Y-yes… I’d very much like it. I don’t know what it is about women like you, but I love the ones who turn into freaks. I’m getting excited just thinking about it.”

  “Then I guess you must love Brie. Since she was attacked and lost her arm, right?”

  “What are you talking about? She’s my boss, but also Brie was born like that. She didn’t lose her arm in any attack. Who told you that?”

  Why would she lie to me? To gain my sympathy? I don't understand, but no matter. I have to focus on the end goal here, which is getting free.

  “Uh... Never mind. If you undo these straps, I’ll let you touch me. I’d even touch you back to show you how grateful I am.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Uh-huh. It does. Doesn’t it?”

  “You promise you won’t tell?”

  “I promise. Who would I tell, anyway?”

  As he reaches over me to free my arms, he inhales deeply. “Infected women are my weakness. Oh. I can’t get enough of them,” he murmurs as he unbuckles the straps holding my legs down, desire in his eyes.

  “Why is that?”

  “You’re so… so… exotic.”

  “Exotic, huh?”

  “Yes, very.”

  As I slink out of my restraints and get to my feet, I rub my arms and my legs to ease the dull aches throbbing through them. In the meantime, the same metal tray I saw before catches my eye again.

  “May I?” he says as he reaches out to touch my face.

  “Yes, go ahead,” I say, giving him permission to get closer.

  As soon as I feel his creepy, clammy fingers touch my skin, I jump. “Sorry!” It’s not that he’s bad-looking or anything, but he’s one of the bad guys. His job is to experiment on me and, if I can help it, I’m going to stop him by any means necessary.

  “That’s OK. It makes it more exciting that way.”

  “Hmmm. It seems you’re a little bit of a freak yourself.”

  He continues getting close to me. “You might be right,” he admits, as he runs his hands down the sides of my naked body, his fingers exploring the indentations of all of my bite marks.

  Completely unencumbered by the restraints now, I reach out for the metal tray, making sure this perverted lackey is preoccupied with his dirty fetish. I grasp the tray with my fingers, slowly move away from him to get a good angle, and then slam it into his face hard and fast with a metallic clang and a loud roar. I hit him a couple more times. I can’t seem to stop. Each time I smack him in the face, I feel a perverse sense of power wash over me. I’m finally in control of something. I don’t want that feeling to stop, so I hit him again and again.

  With his nose crooked and bleeding, he’s disoriented. Malik falls back against the wall and slides down onto the floor, unconscious. Anger and madness take over my body. As I bring the tray above my head, I’m ready to go in for the kill, but then I stop in my tracks. I hear something. It sounds like a snarl or a grunt. Who made that sound? I look around the lab to see if I can identify the source, but there’s no one else in the room with me. If there’s no one else in here with me, did it come from my mouth? I couldn’t have made that sound. I cover my mouth with my hand as the realization sets in. No, no it can’t be. Was that me? It was. What’s happening to me? I have to get my actions and emotions under control.

  Breathing heavily, I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. It feels so good to let loose and regain some of my freedom, especially from this sicko, but I can’t kill him. I’m not a murderer. That would mean I’m no better than he is and I just can’t accept that. I’d rather die. He gets off by taking advantage of women who are turning into zombies. That’s a new one.

  Hovering over him, he’s still unconscious. I search his lab coat pockets for his phone. Nothing. I pull him by the legs so that his body is lying flat on the floor and proceed to search his front pants pockets. Still nothing. It drains all of my energy, but I manage to roll him over and start going through his back pockets. There it is. His phone! I grab it, but it’s locked.

  The screen reads: Fingerprint identification required to access.

  Still out like a light, I grab his hand and start placing his thumb and fingertips onto the phone, hoping that I have the right finger in the right spot on the phone. I drop his hand to the floor, but I still can’t unlock the phone. It must realize there’s a prob
lem because it displays a picture of how to unlock the phone. There’s a pad on the back near the camera lens and it shows the pointer finger swiping against it. I take his hand again and place his pointer finger on the flat surface next to the camera. I rub it back and forth, drop his hand again, and flip over the phone. Voila! It’s unlocked!

  I start to punch in Jack’s number, and then I stop. I have to get a message to Jack. Tell him what’s happening. Warn him. Get him to realize his happy ending is not what he thinks, but I can’t call. I want to, but I can’t. What if he picks up the phone in front of the clone me? What if he lets on that he knows what’s happening? I can’t do that. I can’t jeopardize his safety. Maybe a text message would work? He’s always on his phone checking news alerts. With the would-be molester’s phone still in my hand, I locate the text messaging app, click New Message, and start to type. But what should I write? I close my eyes to calm down, collect my thoughts, and think. I don’t have much time.

  Think, Jane. Think! What the heck could I possibly write that’ll get his attention? Anything I send might come off as a prank, but maybe it’ll get him thinking. Hunched over this lab coat guy who I just knocked out, I enter Jack’s cell phone number and then start typing a message into the phone. My hands are sweaty and shaking. The pressure is on and my fingers are having a tough time typing out the message.

  “Jack, stay calm. This is your wife, Jane. The woman you’re with now isn’t me. I know this is going to sound crazy, but she’s my clone – at least that’s what they told me. When you were being held hostage, I tried to rescue you, but they captured me and I don’t know where I am. DO NOT respond to this message. Don’t call the number, either. This isn’t my phone. You’re being watched. Don’t let them know you know something is up. I love you.”

  I hit send on the message and watch the status change from sending to delivered to sent. Breathing a sigh of relief, I click the message I just sent, delete it from the phone history, wipe the screen clean against my unconscious captor's lab coat, and replace the phone to where I found it, in this guy’s pants. Oh, how I wish I could send myself as a text message.

  The lab coat guy makes a noise. He’s starting to stir. If he wakes up, he’ll overpower me and I don’t know what’ll happen then. I can’t think about that now if I want to get out of here. Instead, I turn to the exam table and grab the restraints. I take one of them and start to wrap the guy’s wrists together, when his eyes pop open, scaring me.

  “Boo!” Malik shouts. “Guards!”

  Taking advantage of the element of surprise, he quickly unwraps his arms and instead entangles my wrists together as additional men in uniforms enter the room. Unable to get myself free, he holds me while the two guards take the restraints and wrap them around the medical trapeze hanging over the exam table. Once I am secured to it, he pushes a button and it starts to ascend, lifting me up with it until I’m completely stretched out. Only the tips of my toes touch the floor.

  “You OK, sir?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. We’re good now. Get out!”

  The guards walk out of the room in a huff. “What a jerk,” I overhear one of them mumble.

  “Let me go!” I scream.

  “No way. You can’t be trusted,” he says as he lifts me higher. Blood is still dripping out of his nose.

  Given my relatively short stature, it’s not long until my feet are dangling in the air off of the ground and my arms are completely outstretched.

  “Don’t screw with me, lady,” he says. “I hope you enjoyed that. You’ll never get the jump on me like that again.”

  With my hands and arms still bound together, I grunt loudly, swing my body, and try to kick him in the face.

  “You’ve definitely got some guts, but your feeble attempts to escape are pathetic at best,” he says. “The lesson to learn here is that you need to do what I say or else you’re gonna pay the price.” Laughing, he slaps me across the face.

  He’s having a good laugh at my expense, which is making me insanely angry. The restraints are digging into my wrists. As I wiggle around to try and get free, the restraints are constantly rubbing against my skin, leaving burn marks. As he’s entertaining himself, I’m hanging in mid-air, slowly spinning around. I see the door to the lab open as a loud popping sound startles me. Terrified, I stop squirming and watch him suddenly fall to the floor, slumped over, not moving. Is he dead? Who did that? I look around, trying to figure out what happened, when I hear a voice.

  “Jane? Is that you?” the voice asks. He steps closer, seemingly unafraid. He walks toward me, looks me in the face, and smiles. “It is you,” he says as he takes out his knife, holds my torso with one hand, and cuts the restraint holding me up for display with the other. He puts me down.

  Exasperated, I manage to remain standing on my own two feet and take a closer look at the man in front of me. “Jack!” I shout as I close my eyes and wrap my arms around him. “You came for me. I knew it! I just knew you would!” I kiss him.

  He kisses me back, then quickly pulls away. “I’ve missed you. I didn’t know what happened to you,” he says.

  “None of that matters anymore. Just hold me and never stop!” When I open my eyes, Jack’s face is gone and I’m holding onto someone else who I don’t recognize. I immediately push him away. Crouched and ready to fight, I growl to scare him off and anyone else bent on harming me. “You’re not Jack! Stay away from me!” I shriek as I pick up the metal tray, now dented from the lab coat lackey’s face smashing into it multiple times. I’m ready to use it as a weapon if threatened.

  “Calm down. What did they do to you? What happened? I’m not going to hurt you,” he says as he steps forward, hands up in a seemingly peaceful gesture.

  “D-Don’t come any closer! I’ll kill you!”

  “I don’t think you’ll do that. Look at my face. Look into my eyes. All I want to do is help. Tell me what’s happening with you.”

  Confused, I can’t seem to recognize the man in front of me. “You promise you won’t hurt me?”

  “I promise. Just tell me what’s going on so I can make it better. I won’t hurt you.”

  “I-I’m turning into a monster,” I say as I try to focus my mind and think clearly. I peer up into this man’s kind face and then my eyes dart back down and over to the guy bleeding from the face lying on the floor in a daze. My thoughts are still disorganized.

  “Jane, trust me. You’re not a monster, but you are under an overwhelming amount of stress.”

  I look at him with a blank stare.

  “Don’t you recognize me?” the guy asks.

  I look up and search his face and my memories for clues. I feel like I’m in a fog. What happened to my energy from before? My brain isn’t functioning. I don’t recognize him, but I should. “I’m sorry. I don’t—” my voice trails off.

  “Jane?” he says as he stands there with a perplexed look on his face. “It’s Damar. Do you remember me now?”

  “Damar?” I’m still confused. I take a few seconds to process what’s happening. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me. Are you OK?” he says as he rushes closer to help me. “Stupid question. You’re definitely not OK. How did you get all of these bites?” He runs his hands over a few of them. “What happened? What did they do to you?” He looks upset, probably from seeing me in this disheveled state.

  I start to talk, but my brain is going faster than my mouth and everything comes out in a whirlwind. “They put me in a room with zombies. I tried to get out, but then it looked like our kitchen at home. I tried to fight them, but there were too many of them. They bit me all over and then these people injected me with something to stave off the virus.”

  “Why would they do something like that? Why would they put you in harm’s way like that? I don’t understand.”

  “Experiments. They’re experimenting with zombies and potential cures by deliberately infecting people – that’s what they did to me. Once infected, they’re studying them. They say that the z
ombie virus is mutating and the current cure isn’t working anymore. They’re developing a new one; at least that’s their story.” I stop to catch my breath. “What are you doing here? How did you get in? How did you find me?”

  “With this,” Damar holds up a keycard. “We were planning to strike the Brotherhood installation. Intel told us about a couple of these labs. We already hit one. We’re working on the others,” he says as he holds me. “They may say they’re working on a cure, but our sources say otherwise. We’re looting anything of value and then destroying the rest of it.”

  “If they’re not working on a cure, what are they working on? What do your sources tell you?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out. Typically these facilities are difficult, if not impossible, to infiltrate. That is, until we got “Vulture.”

  “Vulture?”

  “Our associate we got placed undercover. He helped us triangulate their satellites in orbit. Once we locate them, we have a variety of ways of shutting them down. We use everything from transmitting radio noise to knock out their GPS devices to launching missiles with debris and gravel to take ’em out. These satellites, that’s how they communicate and go about business as usual, tracking the people and zombies they place in society to start outbreaks. No satellite. No communication. No more destruction, at least until they rebuild them.”

  “So they’ve lost touch with everyone on the outside?”

  “For the moment, yes. They’re on their own.”

  “Now that you’re here, we need to see what else they know, find out what they’re doing for real, and expose this horrible place.”

  “I’m with you, but are you sure? Can you even stand up straight?” Damar asks. “Let me help you.”

  As he wraps my arm around his neck and shoulders and helps me to my feet, he looks at me again. “You may want to put on clothes.”

  I look at myself and concur. I’m completely naked. “Yeah, but I don’t know what they did with them and we don’t have much time.”

  “Here. Take my coat,” Damar takes off his coat and wraps it around me.