by Bella Street
“Where are we?”
Trent touched Seffy's shoulder. “We're safe for the moment. Just relax.”
Once again the woman jumped into action.
The man stood with his hands on his hips. “Since I'm not exactly used to strangers falling through my ceiling, I'm expecting some real answers, boy.”
Trent gave a curt nod. “You'll get them as soon as I make sure she's all right.” He helped Seffy into a sitting position on the bed and gave her the glass of water when the woman returned. Seffy took a drink, and leaning forward on one arm, closed her eyes, her breathing labored. After a few moments, spots of color appeared in her cheeks.
“Are you feeling better?”
With her eyes still closed, she nodded. “Sorry. I really tried to hang on.” After a moment, she peered up at him, weariness making her lids heavy.
Trent tried to reassure her, then turned to the couple. “Thank you.” He took in his surroundings. From the amount of decorative clutter, it looked as if they'd lived in the residence a long time.
The man, appearing to be in his fifties and fit wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt, crossed his arms over his chest. “Your name.”
“Trent...Trent Ellison. This is Seffy Carter.”
“Seffy,” said the woman. “That's unusual.”
He shrugged, glancing at Sef, who seemed too out of it to respond.
“Maybe it's a nickname for something else.”
“I'm Barney and this is my wife, Betty,” the man said in clipped tones. “And yes, like the cartoon.”
Wasn't gonna ask.
“Why are you here?”
The woman, also in her fifties and in similar attire, interrupted her husband's question. “Hmmm...Stephanie? Or Seraphina. Maybe Persephone—”
“That doesn't matter, Betty,” the man snapped.
The woman firmed her lips, embarrassment warring with curiosity.
“I've heard some stories of goings on over on the east end of the complex.” Barney's eyes narrowed. “Is that where you're coming from?”
Trent hedged. “What have you heard?”
“That there are several murderers on the loose and that we're to stay in our rooms until the situation is contained.”
“Well, trust me, we're not the murderers.”
“So why do you have a machine gun on your back?”
Crap. Trent slid the gun and his backpack from his shoulders. “I took this gun from one of the guards who was holding us. In self-defense.” He considered his next words. “So all you've heard is something about murderers? Nothing else?”
The man looked at his wife. She spoke up. “We were told people from the outside were trying to attack us and that some had infiltrated.”
“How long has this been going on?” Trent watched their expressions.
“Nearly a week now.”
“Seems odd it would take that long to deal with the problem, doesn't it?”
“What are you getting at?”
Trent didn't know what to do. If these people didn't know about the zombie issue, what good would it do to explain it, then ask that an infected girl remain in their home for the time being? He decided to prevaricate. “Has there been word of any kind of biological hazard?”
Betty gasped, her attention swinging to the obviously ill Seffy.
“Yes,” Barney said.
“That's what's been taking so long. But what you apparently haven't been told is that someone on the inside was the instigator. My friends and I, including Fenn, discovered the plot and tried to stop it. We were captured instead by a rogue faction of people who apparently disagree with Fenn's leadership.”
“Fenn hasn't said anything about that.”
“I just said it's because he's been captured.”
“And you just happened to escape.”
The man's sarcasm was understandable but frustrating.
“This doesn't make sense,” Betty said, “we were told this problem came from the outside. You're obviously from the outside. Why would we believe you?”
“How do you know we're from the outside?”
“I happen to be in charge of welcoming all the new residents.”
Geez. They skipped us when it came to a visit from the Welcoming Committee. “Ah. Well, it's true, we're not from the compound, but we were taken in by Baxter because we were in dire straits.”
“Dire straits?”
“We were refugees from the outside biohazard issue.”
“You implied that came from the inside.”
Trent's patience took a plunge. “Yes! Someone here developed a virus, used it on people on the outside, who then attacked the compound.”
“Why would they attack?”
“That was the whole point of the virus. The infected people go on to attack, spread the infection, weaken the compound's defenses, then let bad guys gain control of the compound.”
“Bull.”
Trent blew out a disgusted breath. “Okay, this virus? It's a hundred percent fatal, right? Well, they found someone who can fight it.” He pointed to Seffy, who offered a wan smile.
Eyes bulging, the couple backed up until they bumped into the wall. “What have you done?” the man whispered.
Trent put up his hands. “Listen, it's not an airborne thing. The virus was primarily spread through injection.” That and biting. “Myself and others with me have been with Seffy for weeks, we've all been around those already exposed, and we haven't caught anything. That's not how it works.”
“How can you be sure?”
He leaned down to Seffy. “I'm gonna show them your back, okay?”
She nodded listlessly.
“If those in charge of this thing were so worried about transmission, they wouldn't be using an infected person this way.” Trent lifted Seffy's top a few inches, revealing the black, blue and yellow bruises, and small incisions and injection sites riddling her spine and rib cage.
The couple edged over and looked, their faces draining of color. Betty pressed her hand against her throat. “That just can't be happening here. This is a good place. We are self-sufficient and we grow organic food and...”
Trent lowered Seffy's top. “I'm sure it is,” he lied. “But it looks like some people have gone off the reservation, so to speak, and want the compound for some other purpose.”
“You say Fenn has been captured? Do you know who's leading the faction?”
“I don't. My friends and I were kept under quarantine after being brought here. Before all this happened, Baxter was trying to help us get home while keeping everyone here safe.”
“So, you're saying this girl can't spread the disease?” Betty asked, anxiety written all over her otherwise kind features.
“Only if I bite you,” Seffy said, then smiled ruefully. “Sorry, not funny.”
Trent sat on the edge of the bed. “She should've been dead weeks ago. But she's not.” He swallowed. “The bad guys know this and want her back for experimentation. And if they can't have her for that, they want her dead.”
Betty looked at Seffy with large eyes full of trepidation. “Can I get you anything, dear?” She turned to Trent. “Either of you? Are you hungry? I have a fresh batch of chicken soup.”
“That would be great for Sef. We've been living on candy bars for the last few days.” Trent thought hard. He wanted to trust these people and Seffy needed a chance to rest. He faced Barney. “I know it's asking a lot, but is there any way she can stay here? She just needs some food and sleep for the time being.”
Again the couple exchanged looks. Trent wished he could discern their thoughts.
Barney glanced at Seffy, his face unsmiling. “She can stay here temporarily. What about you?”
“I need to see if I can get the others released. It's the only way they can get control of the compound back.”
“I'll go with you.”
Trent knew he didn't have any choice in the matter.
Betty brought Seffy a coffee mug full of soup, which she accepted with
a grateful smile. The woman offered him some again but he shook his head as he watched Seffy take careful sips. He turned to Barney. “We need to gather a group of men you can trust. There will be an increase in the number of guards where they're holding the others.”
Trent waited until Seffy finished the soup. He took the cup from her as she leaned back against the pillow on the bed. Trent sat down next to her and brushed her hair away from her face.
“Better?”
She nodded as her eyelids drooped.
“Are you going to be okay if I leave you here for a while?”
Seffy swallowed. “Yes.”
Trent could sense a qualm of unease in her voice. “I don't know how long it will take.”
She reached out, touching his knee. “I'll be fine. Go help our friends.” She turned on her side, curling up. The movement made her hair fan out on the pillow, revealing a network of faint blue veins along her temple. He wondered if she was too weak to survive what her body was going through. He could leave, attempt to free Fenn and the others, and come back to find her dead.
Weariness tore at him. No matter what he did, there were no guarantees.
“Ready?”
Trent saw Barney standing by the door, his expression grim. He looked at Seffy one more time, then turned to Betty and handed her the cup. “Thank you.”
She took it by the handle with two fingers. “Uh, good luck. And be safe.”
Barney opened the door and headed out he door.
Trent had no choice but to follow.
Chapter Six
“You sugar coated it in there, didn't you?”
Trent sent Barney a sidelong look as they headed down the hallway. “I didn't put your wife in any danger.”
“So you say.”
After taking a series of left turns which Barney assured were in an easterly direction, Trent found himself in an unfamiliar hallway. It was more industrial with open ductwork, different than the concrete block construction he was used to. He wished he could tell which way they were going, but his inner compass was shot to hell.
“So where are we headed? You said you know some men who would help?”
Barney looked back at him over his shoulder. “I'll need a little more information first. What's the real nature of the intrusion?”
Trent sighed. “Have you ever heard of a guy named Popov?”
Barney stopped and turned to stare at him. “Maybe.”
“Look, I don't have all the details. All I know is that he was involved in injecting innocent people with the virus, which made those people...violent and wanting to attack. That's who Baxter and the others were fighting off outside.”
“Popov was kicked out a long time ago. They'd never let him anywhere near the compound.”
“Well, they did and I'm pretty sure he was using some form of leverage. Either way, he started the whole thing in the basement and he couldn't have done that without someone on the inside. So, someone here is behind this, wanting to make it look like the opposite.”
“You said the virus was fatal. How does it make people violent?”
Trent shook his head. “You know what, we're wasting time. You can get all the details after we set the others free. If you want stay out of this, fine. Or, you can get the help we need. Your choice.”
Barney turned and knocked on a door. He looked at Trent. “Do you believe in the paranormal? The supernatural?”
“What?”
“It might be time for you to start praying.”
Trent stifled a sigh. “Dude, what are you talking about?” He heard a step behind him, but before he could react, a beefy arm was around his throat, choking him hard.
“It's nothing personal, kid. They're just offering five grand for your capture. I've got to think of my retirement.”
Trent clawed at the arm, his lungs burning. Barney came at him and clocked him across the eye with his fist. Trent's vision dimmed. As his knees weakened, he realized Seffy was in danger.
***
He was the most beautiful boy she'd ever seen.
He stared at her with his warm brown eyes and shy smile. When he approached her and asked her name, she could scarcely breathe. Something in his steady gaze tugged away her usual reservations.
It took her a moment to realize two girls flanked his sides. A petite girl with china blue eyes and dark curled hair introduced herself. “I'm Lisa. Your dress is so beautiful.”
She looked down at the stiff yellow fabric and noticed the price tag was still attached to a side-seam. She plucked at it, aware of heat blooming in her cheeks.
“What's wrong with your hands?” This from the gangly redhead with strange green eyes. “Why are they so grubby?”
“Amy, shh,” Lisa said.
She peered at her fingers and understood why the redhead had asked. Her fingernails were torn and bloody and covered in dark stains. Her breath came in short gasps. She weaved slightly in the heavy afternoon sunlight.
“It's no big deal,” the boy said.
He took her by the hand and walked over to the park's drinking fountain. Lisa held down the button while the boy directed her hands to the stream curving in the air. Rust colored water swirled into the stainless steel bowl as she fretfully rubbed her palms together.
His skin was warm and soft against hers where he supported her wrists, his eyes fastened to her face. “See?” he said. “It's coming off easy.”
“It might get off the dirt,” the redhead said, “but that's not enough to kill the germs.”
Seffy started awake, her heart pounding like a drum. She rubbed her face and looked around, almost glad for once to wake up in the compound. Through the doorway, she saw the Betty lady doing something in the kitchen.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and wished she wasn't so weak. Her limbs felt like lead and her head ached with best-forgotten memories. And Trent was out there somewhere. He might even accomplish something without her dead weight.
“That was a quick nap.”
Seffy's eyes snapped open as Betty entered the bedroom and perched on the edge of a chair across the room.
“Oh, I...had a bad dream.”
“Well, you're safe now.”
She offered a stiff smile and struggled to sit up.
“So, what kind of infection was your friend talking about?”
Seffy frowned, trying to gather her thoughts and not give too much away. “Uh, it's one of those bio-weapons, I think. Like a terrorist thing.”
“Oh, dear. Did anyone die from it?”
Seffy's vision clouded when she remembered all those innocent people in cages being treated like animals. And she remembered the many more who were killed after the fact. She nodded.
“But no one from the compound.”
“I'm not sure.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don't really have all the details. I just woke up on an exam table, strapped down, and full of holes. Trent got me out of there and now...now we're here, trying to figure out what to do next.”
“How awful for you.”
“Yeah.” Seffy pulled up her legs to sit Indian-style, her muscles creaking in protest. She wondered how to tactfully ask for more soup...or something a little more sustaining. Was there a Krispy Kreme store in 1980s Montana? She relaxed slightly. Craving doughnuts was way better than craving little girls. Maybe her body could fight the virus after all.
“What is that?”
Seffy looked up to find Betty standing, pointing at her leg, her eyes wide. Seffy glanced down and saw a bit of gauze poking out from her pant leg. Tugging up the hem, she saw the gauze was damp with the dark, oozy stuff.
“Oh, that's the site of the infection. Um, do you have a First Aid kit I could use?”
Betty backed up, breathing hard.
“Look, I'm really sorry to impose like this. You must be so scared and—”
The older woman pulled a gun out from behind her back and pointed it at her.
Seffy lifted her hands, unable to believe what she
was seeing. She narrowed her eyes. “Hey! That's my gun!”
“Why did you have it on you?” Betty asked, her voice shrill with anxiety.
“For protection, of course!”
“You were going to hurt us!”
“Lady, think about it. We could've taken you out first thing if that was our intention.”
The gun shook in her hand. “They put out an announcement about you.”
Seffy gritted her teeth. “They did? What'd they say?”
“That whoever brought them in to the compound authorities would get a cash reward.”
“How much?” Seffy demanded.
“Five housand.”
Whoa. She took a cleansing breath. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, Betty, because you won't be cashing in today.”
The woman began to breathe hard. “Oh, I will. The authorities are on their way now.”
“What!” Seffy cried, edging off the bed. “Is the reward dead or alive?”
“Uh...alive.”
“Give me the gun. You aren't going to shoot me anyway.” She tried to sound tough as she fought a wave of dizziness.
“Get away! I'll shoot! I don't want the virus!”
Seffy marshaled her strength and advanced on the woman. “All I have to do is spit on you and you're toast. Give me the damn gun.” She grabbed Betty's gun arm with one hand and retrieved the weapon with the other.
Betty collapsed against the wall, sobbing. “Don't kill me, please!”
“Good grief, what kind of freakish experiment do you think I am?” Seffy shoved the gun back into her pocket and rushed into the kitchen. Searching through several drawers, she found a roll of duct tape. Despite feeling like a brute, she approached the cowering woman and taped her wrists together. One more piece covered her mouth.
Catching her breath, Seffy limped to the front door. She cracked it open and looked out. Just another endless hallway. God, she hated this place. She turned back to Betty, the sting of tears starting behind her eyes. “I'm sorry you're mean because you make really good soup!”
Seffy eased into the hall and closed the door behind her, trying to decide which way to go. The sound of running footsteps came from one end of the hall. Her heart lurching in her chest, she scanned the doors. All probably led into the residents' homes—all of whom probably hoped to win the Trent and Seffy lottery. At the end of the hall, she saw a door with a window. She ran to it, hoping wherever it led, it was unlocked.