“Of course,” Dr. Heinz answered in curt tones before walking away with a stiff gait.
Lisa stared at Trevor in amazement. “I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve made my day, and I owe you big for this one.”
“Nonsense. Just enjoy your birthday. That’s all I ask.” Trevor stood up. “Ready to serve breakfast to the kids? I’ll even let you nick a jelly and custard while I’m not looking.”
“Trevor, you’re the best,” Lisa said as she followed him with a light tread. Maybe, her birthday wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
Chapter 3 - Cat
After Jay left, it took a long time for Cat to stop crying. Her tears were for multiple reasons, not least among them herself. Not only had she promised herself to that brute, but Nadia was dead, killed by his savage hands. Plus, she was alone. No one was coming to save her…or the Queenstown community. She had no way to contact her friends back in St. Francis and escape was out of the question. Jay was far too careful to allow something like that to happen. He might not be sophisticated, but he was as cunning as a fox.
Cat swallowed hard on the knot in her throat. It was hard to believe that the stubborn, gutsy, hard-as-nails Nadia could truly be dead, yet she doubted Jay would lie about something like that. He’d looked too satisfied, like the cat that got the cream. No, Nadia was gone, and the sooner she came to terms with it, the better.
Now Cat was faced with a lifetime spent by the side of the man she hated and feared more than death itself. A puppet on a string. Helpless. The very thought was enough to make her want to throw herself out of the window in the hopes the fall would break her neck. I can’t believe I agreed to his terms, that I gave myself to him.
What choice did she have though? People’s lives depended on her, and if she killed herself, he’d take it out on them. I’m not that selfish. I still have my mother and Lisa. I have to protect them, no matter what.
Cat crawled onto the bed and curled into a little ball, allowing her tears to seep into the cushion beneath her cheek. Time passed as she thought about her options, or rather, lack of them. Jay had her exactly where he wanted her, and he knew it. “And dinner? He expects me to have dinner with him?”
A knock on the door pulled her out of her pity-party, and she sat upright, brushing away the wetness on her cheeks. “Come in.”
The lady who normally cleaned her room entered, carrying a stack of fresh towels and a vanity bag. “I’m here to help you get ready for dinner.”
“What?” Cat asked, her jaw hitting the floor.
The woman lowered her eyes and stared at the floor. “The Master ordered me to help you prepare for tonight’s dinner.”
“That’s crazy. So, not only do I have to eat with the prick but I have to look pretty doing it?” Cat asked, indignation burning through her core. “Well, he can suck it. I’m going as I am.”
“Mistress, please.”
“No, forget it. You can run back to your precious Master and tell him I refuse to play the Barbie Doll. I am who I am, and he’d better get used to it.”
The woman shook her head, a wobble in her voice when she spoke again. “Please, Mistress. He commanded me. If I don’t do as he says, he…I…I will be punished. Don’t make this any harder for me than it already is.”
Cat stared at her, aghast. Not once these past days had the woman spoken to her. Stuck in her isolation, Cat had begun to resent her and see her as the bad guy, just like the guard. Now, however, things became clear. She’s just a slave. A captive, like me. Frightened for her life. She’s not my enemy.
Cat sighed, her shoulders slumping when she realized there was no way out for her. If she didn’t do as Jay said, he’d hurt her mother or Lisa, or this poor woman, or any of a number of other hostages that he held in the palm of his hand. “Fine. I’ll do it. For you.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” the woman said, her face crumpling with relief.
“The least you can do is tell me your name, though,” Cat said.
“Joan. My name is Joan.”
“Nice to meet you, Joan. Now tell me, what exactly does the bastard want?” Cat replied.
Joan sucked in a breath. “Please, be careful. If he hears you…”
“Yeah, I know, but I can’t help it.” Cat flopped down on the bed. “I’m just so angry at him. At the world, really. He killed my best friend, and now…he wants me to act like…like his whore. Does he honestly think he can command affection? Loyalty?”
“I don’t know, Mistress.” Joan ducked her head and moved to the bathroom where she opened the taps, running a hot bath. She looked through the bath soaps, smelling each with a hint of nostalgia on her face.
Cat got up and followed her. “Please, don’t call me Mistress. My name is Cat.”
“I know, but as a slave, I am commanded to call you Mistress,” Joan replied. “And he is my Master. I have no wish to be punished so…” she hesitated. “So, I’ll stick to my orders, if you please.”
Cat gave in, defeated. She moved closer and picked up one of the soaps. It was a delicate pink color and smelled like roses. “I’ve always loved roses.”
“So have I. Shall we try that one then, Mistress?”
Cat sighed. “Sure. That one’s fine.”
When the bath was ready, Cat took off her clothes and sank into the hot water with a groan of pleasure. She couldn’t help it, and even felt guilty for it when so many others were suffering.
What does it help to fight, though? she thought as she lay back, her muscles melting with delight, the water caressing her skin and soothing away the knots and cramps placed there by worry and grief. Enjoy the small things. There will be few enough of them as it is.
Joan proceeded to shampoo her hair, massaging the thick lather into her scalp with deft fingers before rinsing it out. Cat couldn’t help but smile. “You’re very good at this.”
“I used to be a beautician, back in the day. Before all this,” Joan said. “I gave massages for a living.”
“That figures. Your fingers are magic.”
Joan choked back a laugh. “My daughter used to beg me to wash her hair. I could never say no, even when I was dog tired after a long day at the salon.”
“Used to?”
“She was visiting a friend when the outbreak hit. She never made it home, and when I went looking for her, she was gone. The house was empty.”
“I’m sorry.”
“People say the worst thing is not knowing, but I prefer it like that,” Joan continued. “I’d rather imagine her alive somewhere, than seeing her as a corpse or one of those things.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Cat admitted. “I hope you’re right, and she’s still alive.”
“She is, and she’s all grown up by now. Strong. A fighter. Just like you, and that’s why I want to tell you something, Cat.”
“What?”
Joan moved to the side so she could look Cat in the eyes, her expression somber. “You have no idea what Jay has done since he’s taken over.”
“Well…no. I’ve been stuck in here.”
“It’s hell. He’s changing everything. Older, weaker, childless people like me are viewed as worthless. We’ve been relegated to slave status, living in bare quarters on the minimum rations of food needed to keep us alive. We are here to serve, nothing more.”
For the first time, Cat noticed how thin Joan’s wrists were, the hungry, drawn look in her face. Guilt filled her, realizing she’d been so preoccupied with her own problems, she’d failed to see what was right in front of her.
“Any women with children to raise have been confined to their houses, and their little ones will be taught in a school run by Ravagers. In time, they’ll become Ravagers themselves,” Joan said. “He’s even building a fighting ring!”
“A ring?”
“Neil, our former leader, is being held hostage inside the infirmary along with people like your friend Lisa and your mother. This is designed to keep the rest of us under control for now. We fear what w
ill happen to them, so we obey,” Joan continued.
“It’s working,” Cat said. “He might be a brute, but Jay isn’t stupid.”
“No, and this is where you come in.”
“Me?” Cat asked, startled.
“Yes, you. For some reason, he’s put you on a pedestal. He views you as his perfect mate, his queen,” Joan said.
“I know, and I hate it,” Cat cried, hot tears forming in her eyes. “How can he expect me to give myself to him after he murdered my best friend? It’s not fair.”
“Of course, it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. But you have power over him, Cat. Don’t you see? You can use his feelings for you to influence his decisions, to make him treat the people of this community better,” Joan said, wringing her hands together. “You can change things, you can help us.”
“How? He’s not going to listen to me,” Cat said.
“He would if he thought you were loyal to him, that you’ve given yourself to him completely,” Joan said.
“How can I do that?” Cat said, shaking her head. “It’s impossible. It was hard enough to agree to obey him in return for my family’s lives. More than that, I can’t do. Besides, he’d see right through me.”
“The man’s ego is as big as a mountain, Cat. If you pretend to come around to his way of thinking, he’ll believe it.” Joan shook her head in disgust. “Tonight, he’ll try to seduce you, show you that his way is better. Let him.”
“No, I can’t do that. You’re asking too much,” Cat said, shaking her head miserably.
“Am I? What about your mother, your friend Lisa, and all the other people in this community who are suffering. You can make it better for them all,” Joan insisted. “If not for yourself, do it for them.”
Cat said nothing, her mind winging to a future spent pretending to love Jay, to be awed by him, cajoling him into being a better leader. A softer one. A future spent at his side, and in his bed, forever bound to a man she hated. I might even have to bear his children.
Joan leaned forward and gripped Cat’s hand. “I know its awful, but think about it. You’d be doing a great good, helping to shield this community from the worst of his excesses. I’m not asking for me. I’m just an old woman. But there are children here. Innocent people.”
“Why me?” Cat asked with a shudder.
“Because so far, the only thing he really seems to care about is you, and there’s nobody coming to our rescue. Either yours, or ours.” Joan sat back and stared at Cat, her expression pinched. “It’s either this, or death.”
Cat sighed. “I…I’ll think about it.”
Joan nodded. “Thank you.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in silence. There was nothing more to say, after all. Cat finished her bath, dried off, and moisturized her skin until it glowed. They spent an hour going through the available dresses before settling on one Cat was happy with. A simple black silk sheath, it clung to her body while a single long slit ran up the front to mid-thigh, giving it a hint of spice without being slutty.
Cat nervously plucked at the thin straps that crisscrossed her bare shoulders while Joan did her hair and makeup. The woman knew what she was doing, keeping it simple and striking with a smoky eye and loose curls. Pearl drops in her ears and a pair of heels finished off the look, and she was ready to go.
“You look gorgeous,” Joan said. “Jay won’t be able to resist you.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Cat confessed while she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her stomach churned, and her palms grew sweaty as the thought of the night ahead weighed heavily upon her. “This is crazy. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not, to love someone I hate. He’ll see, and he’ll make me pay for it.”
“You can do it, Cat. You’re strong. You’re a survivor,” Joan said.
“Am I? Fighting zombies is so much easier than this.”
Joan gazed at her with a stern expression, the lines around her mouth deepening. “You don’t have a choice. It’s either that, or death to you and yours. Remember that and you’ll be fine.”
Cat swallowed hard on the knot in her throat. “I’ll try. For you, for everybody.”
Joan’s face softened. “Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry. It’s a heavy burden you bear.”
“There’s no one else, I guess.”
Joan reached out a hand and squeezed Cat’s fingers. “If it helps, don’t think about what he is, or what he’s done. Try to find the good in him and focus on that. Try to nurture it, to bring it out in him.”
Cat nodded, trying her best not to cry.
A knock on the door interrupted them, and the guard showed himself in. “Are you ready, Miss? The boss is waiting for you.”
Cat forced out a small laugh and said, “Beauty and the Beast. What irony.”
Chapter 4 - Nadia
After wiping away her tears, Nadia turned her attention to her wounds. Exhaustion dragged at her limbs, and she longed to curl up on the dusty bed and sleep away her hurt, but it would never do. If infection set in, she might not have the strength to get back up again. “I’ve got to get this cleaned up first.”
She lifted her head and surveyed the room, cataloging its contents. Besides the fireplace with its grill and kettle, there was only a single bed with a footlocker, a kitchen counter with a set of drawers and cupboards, and a tiny table with a single chair. Just enough for one person. For a moment, she wondered what happened to the previous owner, and if he was the wandering zombie she’d killed earlier.
With a shudder, Nadia pushed the unpleasant thought aside. She had work to do. While the water in the kettle came to the boil, she rummaged through the single cupboard that served as a kitchen and found a cup, spoon, coffee, sugar, and creamer.
She prepared a strong cup of coffee with lots of sugar for the shock that she was sure would set in once she’d treated her wound along with a glass of water. She’d lost a lot of blood, and her body needed plenty of fluids. This she placed next to the bed.
Food-wise, there wasn’t much. A tin of biscuits, a few cans of sardines, peas, beans, and peaches, and a few packets of soup and instant noodles. Apparently, the owner was running low on supplies when he left…or died.
Nadia was tempted to ignore the food for the moment. She was in too much pain to think of eating. What she wanted most was sleep. Deep, pain-free, blissful sleep. But she needed to keep her strength up so opened a can of peaches and put it next to the bed with a fork sticking out of it as well.
What she needed most was medicine, and she found it at last in the form of a first-aid kit inside the footlocker. There was a bit of clothing too, and an extra blanket which she tossed over the dusty sheets on the bed. A clean shirt served as a rag, and with a sob of relief, she sank onto the mattress, allowing her shaking legs to rest.
Next, she took off her jacket and tossed it to the side. Biting on her bottom lip, she attempted to peel away her shirt but cried out when dried blood caused it to stick and pull at the ragged wound. “Holy shit, that hurts!”
After dipping the cloth into the hot water, she soaked the material until it loosened up and she could get a good look at her injury for the first time. Nadia sucked in a breath, shock fizzing through her veins at the sight of the ragged cut that wept blood in a steady stream.
“Oh, God, this is bad,” Nadia whimpered. Exactly how bad it was hard to say. There was every possibility she had internal wounds too, even though it was situated to the right side of her body in the fleshy part above the hip bone.
Jay had aimed for her stomach, and only her last-minute twist sideways had prevented him from reaching his target. Whether that was enough to save her life was another matter, though. Even if he’d missed any vital organs, the blood loss alone could kill her.
With more warm water, Nadia washed the encrusted blood away before pressing the wad of material to the weeping cut while she rummaged through the first-aid kit. Inside, she found antiseptic cream, gauze, bandages, plasters, paracetamol painkillers, and�
��nothing else that would help in her situation.
“Crap,” she breathed, realizing she had nothing to stop the bleeding with except the flimsy gauze, and she doubted that would work. No sutures…nothing. Nor were there any antibiotics to prevent the infection that was sure to set in.
Panic set in, and for a moment, Nadia felt like giving up, but the thought of her friends subjected to the cruel whims of Jay the Beast brought her around again. Taking a deep breath, she took stock. “I need to stop the bleeding. If I can’t, I’ll die right here. Plus, I have to disinfect it somehow. The question is how?”
Her eyes fell on the flames within the fireplace, and an idea took hold. One so terrible she almost couldn’t entertain it. “I’ve got no choice. It’ll do the trick. People in the old days used to do it.”
This thought did little to quell her rising fear as she reached out a trembling hand to the metal poker next to the fire. Sticking the end into the coals, she waited for it to heat up until it glowed like an ember. Deep red and fiery hot.
Nadia’s breathing grew shallower with each breath, and her muscles contracted involuntarily at the thought of the agony that was sure to come. Could she do it? Was she strong enough?
She withdrew the poker from the fire and stared at the end that gave off heat like molten lava. Her free hand shoved the bloody shirt she’d been using as a rag into her mouth, giving herself something to bite on. With tears forming in her eyes, she brought the glowing end of the poker to within an inch of her skin. There, she froze, unable to make her hand move any further. Come on, Nadia. If you don’t do it, you’ll die.
Nadia willed her hand to close the final distance, her harsh breathing dragging in and out of her nostrils like the bellows in a smithy. She thrust the heated poker against the length of the cut, cauterizing the exposed flesh. The hot metal seared the edges of the wound, blackening the ridges and releasing the stench of burning meat.
Raw agony ripped through her core, and she screamed, her cries muffled through the wad of material crammed in her mouth. Her jaws bit down and locked until she thought her teeth would crack, and every muscle in her body seized up from shock.
Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set Page 141