Dystopian Girls 4

by Rodzil LaBraun

  "Ho-ly-shit!" I said.

  "I know, right?" Jada replied, mocking Alexa’s manner of speaking. "I totally did not expect that to happen."

  "Yeah, but it did," I told her, excitement building inside me. "And this changes everything."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN:

  The new diseased, or possibly undead women, were a bit of a dilemma. More aggressive than the worst skanks, and entirely untreatable. We couldn't scare them away with weapons, maybe because they simply didn't see them. One of the new guards suggested to use fire to hold them at bay. It sounded like a good idea to me, at least to try. Who knows, though? The zombies might plunge right into the flames.

  Most people's reaction would be to kill them and not take any chances. That was still an option. However, with Jada's animal control gift working on them as well, we might be better off coming up with a way to detain them until needed. The question would be, is it worth feeding them? If they are undead, or nearly dead, perhaps their required consumption was minimal. There was no way of knowing that without at least beginning a program for them.

  Since it was a security and battle strategy issue, I consulted with just Jada and Bianka to make a decision. We decided to build a corral off to the left of the truck gate to hold the zombie women. We had no idea how many to expect, but if herding them in like cattle, we shouldn't need much space. A two-gate system would be implemented in the new pen, leaving a transition area between the two for multiple reasons. The inner door would be a wide piece of chain link fence, the outer like a barn door. With our perimeter fence project nearly done we had plenty of workers for the project, but they would need to scrounge for supplies.

  It was unknown exactly how many women were treated with the bad version of the drug. Tamika had estimated over two hundred based on the number of infected people in their New Hampshire Avenue compound at the time. However, it was quite possible that the version of the treatment was applied in other areas as well.

  If forty percent of two hundred turned into zombies, that made eighty. The Coalition would have killed many of those in their reaction to the containment breach. Maybe only twenty got away. That wasn't many. If that number didn't grow, there was no reason to expect more to come our way.

  Survivors were always immune to the viruses before. That was possibly the case with this new mutated version created by the bad drug, but we didn't know for sure. What we could easily assume, though, was that the zombies could infect other skanks since they had always been vulnerable to cross infection. As was the case with receiving a dose of the medicine, it was unknown whether a zombie scratch or bite was sure to convert a skank into the irreparable new form.

  The basic idea was that if this thing spread, we could be seeing a lot of these crazy eyed fuckers. Our infected women at least would be at risk, as would our reborn. We couldn't take chances. We needed to develop a protocol that worked well from the start. We were able to come up with the first version of such in less than an hour. That was pretty good cooperation, I thought.

  First step would be to try and herd them into the corral. That could be done by Jada's voice, torches of fire, or anything else that proved to be effective. Second, would be containment. The pen needed to be able to hold them. Third would be observation and feeding. If the zombies all ate each other inside the cage, that would ruin the project completely. The last step would be proper safe release of the zombies to attack intruders. With the see-through inner gate on the corral, we could intimidate visitors first by opening the barn door.

  The herding process was the biggest question mark. If we could master it, we could duplicate the plan to add more pens. One to the west where we relied mostly on our newly constructed fence to scare off attackers, and another to the east by the river.

  Two construction minded reborn women were placed in charge of building the new corral. Jada guided the two present zombie women toward the nearby river where guards could safely keep an eye on them. We targeted the project to be complete by mid-afternoon. Then we could test our herding techniques.

  On my way back to the house along skank row I spotted Jamila in one of the backyards addressing a group of three skanks that were being held at gun point. It looked like typical orientation for new arrivals. She would explain the rules of living inside our compound. If they couldn't comprehend, they would most likely be sent on their way. Those that did understand were offered a dose of the treatment. We were running low of the life changing medicine, but we weren't out yet. Our hopes of receiving more from the NWTC were crushed with news of the new zombies. Even well-informed skanks were not likely to take a chance on the faulty version of treatment.

  These new arrivals did not pass through the front gateway while I was there. They must have been directed to the new skank door or came in before I arrived. Thought of the new entryway motivated me to check it out.

  One of the reborn women, Felicia was her name, was guarding the inside of the gate with a rifle when I arrived. Her curly red hair was short on one side and long on the other. I didn't know if that was the style or if she lost control of it during skankhood. Hairstyles of the diseased and skanky was not a hobby of mine, but some butchered head mops could not go completely without notice.

  Felicia was slender and well-shaped. Unfortunately, she had two nasty long scars on her pale legs, and another one on her left arm. The halter top she had on revealed plenty of freckles on her shoulders, even more than were spread across her pretty round face. She smiled happily seeing me approach and rested her firearm against her shoulder like she was standing at attention for a superior officer.

  "Are we getting new women through this door already?" I asked.

  "Yes, sir," she replied. "Three this morning, sir."

  "At ease, Felicia," I laughed. I could see that she was delighted that I remembered her name. "We don't require that type of formality around here. And my name is Mason, not sir."

  "Yes, Mason," she replied, relaxing as she placed the butt of her rifle on the ground. "Thank you, sss...."

  "So, Felicia, what is the protocol for inviting in new arrivals?"

  "For five or less skanks we need to have three armed guards before opening the door. And someone that is good with communication, if possible, like Jamila or Melanie. We maintain a safe distance and guide them to a holding area if they respond well to instruction."

  "What if there are more than five?"

  "That is rare, sir.... Mason," she replied. Her respect for me more so than training made it hard for her to stop calling me sir. I knew that she was nothing like a soldier before this. "In those cases, we call a primary before opening the door, and follow their lead."

  “A primary?”

  "Yes, one of the women from your house. Most of us know them on sight, but the M necklace makes it clear to everyone."

  Alexa received her new necklace shortly after her return. The rest all had theirs before that except for Jada. My head of security wasn’t refusing to wear the branding piece of jewelry. She just stressed that there was no hurry for Jamila to find or create one.

  "How long is your shift here?" I asked. After the words escaped my mouth I wondered if they came across like a barfly would ask an attractive bartender in a dive bar.

  "Four hours. I'll be done in less than an hour. Of course, if you need me for something else," she fleshed me a smile that would have been flirty if it wasn't for the yellow teeth. "I'm happy to do whatever you want from me. Your orders overrule the schedule, obviously."

  "I appreciate that, Felicia. But no, I was just curious. Are you signed up for the combat training?"

  "Yes, I've had one class already with Bianka. She is a wonderful teacher. And beautiful, too. I can see why you two are so close."

  The comment struck me a little funny. How much of my home life was common knowledge in our colony? It was a bunch of women, after all. They were bound to talk and gossip. Did they know about every one of my sexual encounters?

  I debated on asking Felicia about Stella to see
if she knew about last night's virginity elimination, then thought better of it. After telling her that I hoped to talk with her again at another time, I turned and headed toward the house. I didn't get far before I heard the scream.

  "Help!" a woman's voice screeched from outside the fence. She was probably at least fifty feet away. It didn't sound like a skank, so it might be one of the reborn in trouble. We had to help her.

  I ran back to the skank gate and Felicia. "Open the gate!" I commanded.

  "I'm supposed to have two more guards..."

  "I count as two," I said as I pulled out my revolver. "I order you to open the gate. Does that relieve you of taking responsibility?"

  "Yes, of course," Felicia replied, slipping the strap of her gun over her shoulder so she could use both hands to open the door.

  "Someone out there needs our help. It is probably one of our own."

  "Okay," Felicia acknowledged. "But let me go first, please! I can't be the girl that let Mason get hurt."

  "Okay, fine. Be quick."

  "Help me, please!" the desperate woman screamed again, closer than before. She sounded familiar, but the high pitch of her voice made it difficult to distinguish. Once Felicia stepped through the doorway and off to one side, I recognized the woman immediately.

  "Camilla!" I yelled as I ran toward her. I didn't see any soldiers or zombies endangering her. She appeared to be fleeing a battle wounded. Her beautiful face was bloody, as was her dress and patches of her skin.

  "Mason!" she cried. "Help me, please!" Her call for help transformed to sobbing tears. I was unsure if it was from pain or the joy of reaching me and our compound.

  I ran to her as I looked for pursuers. I didn't see any. I could hear Felicia calling for more guards behind me as she watched my back. Camilla nearly collapsed into my arms, thanking me. She didn't look like she had enough energy to communicate much, but I needed to know what happened. As I waited for her to regain some composure, I checked her body for injury.

  There was a cut on Camilla's forehead that was probably not as bad as it looked. More bloody scratches on her legs that may have been from the brush she ran through on the way to us. None of them appeared severe enough to cause her dire condition. The bloodiest part of her dress was on her waist, where she was pressing her hand firmly.

  Reluctantly she pulled back to let me check it. Fresh blood emerged from the wound. On closer inspection I could make out a bullet hole. She had been shot. The bullet went straight through the fatty edge of her belly, hopefully missing all major organs.

  I had her put pressure back on the wound as I carefully scooped her up into my arms. By the time I reentered the skank gate there were already people waiting to assist. Shortly after placing Camilla on the ground she passed out just as Alexa arrived on the scene with bandages. She strongly encouraged me to back away and allow her team room to work. They were the first responders of our new fledgling colony.

  "It's important," I told Alexa. "We need to know what happened as soon as possible."

  "Well, sweetheart," she answered as she began cleaning the wound. "She's out now. When she comes back to, I'll ask her what happened. Until then, maybe you should focus your attention outside the fence. There might be more of Tamika's clan right behind her. I'm not sure if that is good thing or a bad thing."

  She was right. I needed to go back to watching for more people and communicate with Jada and Bianka. If we had an alert system, I would take it to yellow. We weren't under attack, so it wasn't a red yet. But that could change rapidly."

  Over the course of the next two hours Camilla's situation stabilized, and we spotted no more refugees from the schoolhouse. We did, however, see three more zombies. Jada and a few others were able to pacify them and guide them east toward the new corral. I would check on the status of that later. I almost panicked thinking that Camilla could be infected with the zombie virus, but she was one of the immune, like me. The chances were very low. If she did approach flatlining we would need guards around her just in case.

  We swiftly converted the garage into a hospital room. Jamila was happy to give up the space, especially since Alexa said it was high time that she joined the rest of the girls in sharing bedrooms. With my wife's plan to rotate women through my bed, I wondered if Jamila would end up spending some quality time in Bianka's bed as part of the rotation. That would be interesting.

  Just after we got Camilla situated and comfortable, I was being called to the front gate by Jada. Bianka's presence was requested as well. But our injured newcomer was stirring awake. I delayed.

  "What happened?" I asked Camilla.

  "The Coalition," she told me. "They hit us hard. The school building was breached. They killed Mitch. Tamika was still alive when I slipped away, but badly injured. She probably died, too. They killed almost everyone, Mason. They didn't accept us into your treaty."

  Jada kept demanding to speak to me. Bianka handed me the walkie-talkie.

  "What is it?" I asked Jada after stepping out of the house, showing some irritation.

  "The military is at our doorstep, Mason," Jada told me. "They are demanding that Camilla is turned over to them."

  Fuck! That was not good. Just when I thought that I could get a few days of peace.

  "How many?" I asked.

  "Two trucks," Jada replied. I was surprised that I hadn't heard them coming. I must have already been inside the garage at that point. "At least twenty soldiers, well-armed. And the two bitches from the peace treaty meeting."

  Brianna and Celeste. I wasn't sure if I would ever see them again. The only necessary communication left between us was reporting the decision on including Tamika's group in the treaty and to sign a document. We got their decision by other means. The negotiators wouldn't need to return just for a paper signing ceremony.

  Jada had invited the women inside, but they declined, refusing to relinquish their weapons. That was a bad sign, if the squadron of troops wasn’t enough to alarm me.

  "Hello Brianna, Celeste," I said casually as I strolled out between the noses of our two trucks. Their vehicles were over fifty feet away. All weapons in the hands of their people instantly steadied on me as the target. I simply raised one hand forward and continued until I was only a few feet away. The women told their soldiers not to shoot, but they continued to aim. I was certain that there was an equal number of guns pointed at them from behind me. With my special power alone, we had the advantage.

  "We don't want any trouble, Mason," Brianna informed me. "We are just here to collect Camilla. As per the terms of our agreement, you cannot accept any new recruits. You know that."

  "Camilla is a long-term member of our clan," I explained to them. The time that it took me to traverse the compound allowed me to devise that strategy. "She was simply away on a mission. We did not have to list our members as part of the treaty. If we did, I certainly would have included Camilla. You can't have her."

  "We have been instructed to take her by force if necessary," Brianna said, sweating profusely for a woman of her class. She was more than nervous, knowing that it would be best if she backed down. Unfortunately, the soldiers might not obey that order from her.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw dozens of the skank tribe approach from the right. Then several more from the left. Guns shifted. New targets were acquired. Then they were certainly outnumbered. They knew it. Soldiers were suddenly unsure of themselves, adjusting their stance regularly.

  "Now that would definitely be a violation of the treaty," I told her. "Check your records. Camilla is one of ours."

  "Don't do this, Mason," Celeste pleaded. She was even more frantic than her counterpart. Her already pale skin bleached white from the stress. The two of them held their pistols pointing down. They were out front and center as spokespersons of the group, not expecting me to walk right up to them. If a firefight broke out, they knew that they would surely die.

  Jada had been stationed behind me. That is where I preferred that my best women remained, un
der my protection. When she wandered to the left, I turned to see was she was doing. I hadn't noticed that the new zombie corral had been completed. She stood at the exterior door and awaited my instructions. When I nodded, she slid it open to reveal the five zombies just a few feet beyond, behind the chain link fence. They immediately began growling as they clawed the barrier containing them.

  "What the fuck are you doing with those?" Celeste asked, jolting at the sight of them. Their entire force was shaken. I imagined that they lost a few people when the new outbreak unleashed. They may have witnessed the death of close associates at the hands of zombies. Or worse yet, conversions.

  "They are our new pets," I told her. I didn't typically like to treat people like animals. But these women were clearly no longer human. I nodded to Jada again.