by M. D. Massey
A couple of guys smile at me. I snort to myself, and ignoring them, I walk through the double doors into the courtyard. The whole thing occupies half an acre of Bermuda grass – it’s brown now, and freezing out here – with several benches. Little patio tables, a grill, some chaise lounges, and a volleyball net complete the scene. A fountain is the centerpiece of the courtyard. I imagine they plant flowers in the spring. Sitting next to the wall, I put my head on my knees willing the time to pass.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I hear my name as a question. “Kan?” Afraid to look, I do it anyway, and my stomach drops.
“Dalton?” He nods, but he doesn’t look happy to see me here either. He runs a hand down his face as tension permeates his handsome features.
“You were the one they kept sedated,” he states as he shakes his head. “I hoped you escaped while all that was going down.”
“I thought you weren’t there, that you went to find Mac.” My voice shakes, I’m unable to contain it.
“I did.” I stare at him with hope. Sitting down beside me, he slumps and stares at nothing. “The guy I saw told me Mac wasn’t there. He got into a massive fight with another guy and left the community.” My face goes flat as my stomach sinks even lower and threatens to come up in the form of vomit.
“A fight? Who was the other guy?” I don’t want to know.
“I don’t know. I was upset he left.” He peers at me. “I told the guy I knew where you were, that you were kidnapped. If Mac goes back, he’ll know where you were and figure out what happened. I’m sorry Kan.”
“Who was the guy you talked to? Did he know me?”
“Yes, they thought you ran off by yourself. I don’t know why they’d think that.” I do. I found out the truth about Julie. With Mac thinking I had more-than-friends feelings for Rudy, well, I’m not surprised he left. I still can’t help thinking about the morning we shared. Did Mac think I’d leave? He assumed though and that kills me. “The guy was Bart, the bartender dude.”
I nod. Good. Mac’ll know if he goes back, but that’s a big if.
“I couldn’t stay to find out more. When I got back to my post, not ten minutes later I got stuck with a needle. They know I’m from the Coalition, and are keeping an eye on me. I need to get out though.”
“Me too, but I'll find some things out first.”
Dalton takes on a serious look. “No, Kan, you can’t listen to them. You can’t trust these people.”
This pisses me off. “You mean you haven’t even bothered to figure out what’s going on here? What the fuck is wrong with you? I don’t trust them, but something big is happening. I can’t believe you and that damned Coalition aren’t doing anything about it!” I snap.
“We are. No one is in danger yet. Things take patience and time.”
“Bullshit! I’ve been kidnapped twice, because of my age. There is something wrong with that, and I’ve been harmed! Violated, drugged, forced into a psycho marriage, this close to having sex against my will with a minor.” I hold up my forefinger and thumb to indicate how close. “And the same fucking thing will happen here.” I seethe, practically feeling steam coming from my orifices. “I have people coming here to help, just be ready to haul ass and help when you hear boom sounds.”
His eyes widen on the last in sudden alarm. “What? Did Mac know about this?”
“Yeah, he was part of –”
A hand cuts me off. “What? He isn’t supposed to get caught up in civilian issues. Only report them,” he says this quickly. From the way he glances at me, I don’t think he wanted to tell me that. “At least that explains why he left. He went to report it,” he adds, coming to his own conclusion.
Great. I don’t need that complication if it’s true, and a sad thing I don’t know what’s going on with Mac. “I can’t be seen with you. They won’t talk to me if they do.” Getting up and walking away, I fume at the confirmation Mac knows about the guys in black canvas.
A movie plays on the TV screen, and I think it might be some romantic comedy. To my utter delight, it isn’t. I settle on a blue sofa as Will Farrell “The Tank” streaks down the road in Old School.
“You like this movie?” I cut my glance sideways to a guy sitting beside me, locking his hands behind his buzzed, black head of hair. My gaze shoots to his button-up bowling shirt, looking Charlie Sheen-ish. The guy’s got to be at least five to ten years older than me. He laughs. “Such suspicion. Don’t worry, I’m not hitting on you.”
“Yes, I love this movie,” I state and continue watching.
His mouth opens to say something else, but I hold up my hand. “Fuck off.” Saccharine laces my tone.
His brows lower and ripple together, face twisting he says, “What? You think you’re too good for anyone here?” A smirk crosses his thin lips as his dark brown gaze roams over me. Attractive, but I don’t want anything to do with him.
“That never crossed my mind.” I move from the couch toward the open hall door.
“Kan?” The voice is thick with excitement. Knowing the voice right off the bat, I bite the inside of my lip, so I won’t explode on the dumbass.
I do anyway. “What the hell are you doing here, Kale?” He looks around, swallowing. “I thought I told you to go south.” He looks better than he did before, with hair covering his ears, wearing a long sleeved t-shirt with some kind of logo on it, and jeans with a pre-made hole in the knee. I’ve seen Sam wear that logo before but don’t know what it means. Some kind of skater gear, I assume.
“Uh, I followed you here. Speaking of which, where have you been?” he asks with genuine curiosity.
“Around.” I remember how pleasantly relieved I was, getting rid of him the first time.
He grabs my arm. “Let’s go talk for a minute.”
Jerking my arm away, I say, “No.” I stare him down and he shrinks, pissing me off that he doesn’t have the balls to stand up for himself. Although, him flinching from me makes me feel bad. “Later, okay? You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
He nods, smiling his smile that had once kind of charmed me.
“Besides, I’m pissed. You should’ve gone to Birmingham.” Everyone stares at us. A few of the girls glare daggers at me. Apparently he’s been turning on the charm. Turning back to Kale, I say, “You’re causing me to get glares from other people.” I think for a second. “You know Bridget thought you left with me? I had to knock her out.”
“You went back?”
I nod, slipping a quick grin. “To set my house on fire. Then again to get my books.” I pause before going on, “Harley is dead.” Ice blue eyes blink at me, Kale probably assumes I killed him.
“You’re different.” He studies me, my hair.
“No, I think I found myself.”
He shakes his head, throwing hair out of his intense gaze. “Maybe, but you’re talking.”
He’s right. I hardly communicated with them when they were guests in my bunker. Now, I’m chatting it up like he’s my long lost friend. He wants me to elaborate, but I’m ready to get out of here. “You should’ve gone to Birmingham, Kale.” With that, I turn towards the dorm.
A few hours later, I’m under the covers sleeping with Mac’s shirt when someone shakes me awake. I look to see a young woman standing beside my bunk. Her fair, curly blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail, but cute little curls escape in ringlets around her face. A belly sticks out, looking way too large for her petite body. A black and white printed maternity blouse hangs stylishly off one shoulder, and a red beaded necklace with a huge red heart pendant rests between her breasts. I know who this is, and I glare at her.
“Hi,” she says, as awkwardness hangs in the air between us. I keep glaring, better than telling her she’s stupid. She swallows. “I’m Julie. Donna said you asked for me? I’ve never seen you though. Did one of your dorm mates request me?”
“Mistake.” I turn back over.
“I know you don’t want to be here, but if you give it a chance yo
u could have a family, and be happy.” An awkward silence follows, and her feet shift as fabric smoothes together as if she is fidgeting. Good. Let her squirm. She thinks my glaring is for being held captive. That’d make her half right. A dip moves the bunk as she sits. “I hope we can be friends. I guess I’ll take you on the tour tomorrow as planned.” This piques my interest.
“No. Take me now.”
She’s shorter than me, even with her red patent pumps. Who wears pumps while pregnant? Keeping my arms crossed, I don’t look at her as she tells me about the different buildings. I notice she skips over several, and when asked about them, I get the, ‘Dr. Finnegan usually does the tours,’ and she doesn’t know much about them. What is with everyone and their lies? We go to a small setting with little brick houses lining the way. Several mature trees line behind them. She tells me this is the independent family housing. Each house has been landscaped to fit the personality of the owner.
She takes me to her little house, landscaped with holly bushes, and she planted buttercup bulbs for the spring. Like I care. She introduces me to her husband, Jonathan, who’s nice, good-looking, and tall with light buzzed hair and light brown eyes. A nurse at the medical ward, he’s happy to see Julie through her pregnancy, which explains the green scrubs he wears. Being excessively friendly and uplifting, he gazes at Julie with adoration. For how nice they are, they must get some kind of incentive. A bonus if my attitude turns around to become ultra-happy.
She offers me little chocolate chip cookies. The chocolate chips are arranged into a smiley face on each cookie. The house is neat, clean, and normal. Normal for the late seventies, that is. The walls are wood paneled, and brown shag carpets cover the floor. An avocado-green refrigerator sits on top of vinyl flooring, and an old oak table with matching chairs make up the small kitchen.
The living room and its furniture cast a variety of warm colors: yellow, orange, and red with splashes of green to accent. Not a kitten knickknack out of place. Julie’s knitting basket is full of little, pink baby crap.
I snap to as they talk to me. I haven’t said anything the whole time, and Jonathan begins to fidget, feeling uncomfortable with me. That makes two of us. Julie gets me out of there as fast as she can.
We go to a playground where kids play and parents push their children on swings. Laughter heightens as the merry-go-round spins faster. These poor kids don’t know what’s happening, being sheltered and caged like animals, livestock.
“Tell me this Julie – what does it take to be fed to a zombie?”
Her eyes widen as she looks at me, studying me for a time before nodding, coming to a conclusion. “When someone is terminally ill, too old – they need help to live – or as punishment for something severe, like killing a person. Otherwise, they feed them…domestic bovine.” Her tone changes as she says bovine.
“So if your baby… ” I pat her belly. “Comes down with leukemia at age five, you’ll willingly hand it over?”
She pauses, not thinking of this on her own. “There are risks, of course. I’m willing to chance it. We get the best prenatal care. You’re under prenatal care, too.”
Like good prenatal care prevents cancer. “That’s what you want for your child? To grow old and be fed to zombies like a cow? Maybe in the meantime, watching a terminally ill child of their own get thrown to the wolves?”
She gets flustered, her face turning pink. Good. She’ll give me information that way. “If you step back and look at things, you’ll see that it’s the only negative thing about it. Do you want someone to change your shit diapers when you’re old? No? Who does? Before the infection, old people cost money. It’s the same with criminals and terminally ill people, all the housing, food, medical care, and research they needed to stay alive.” Her chin juts out.
My jaw hangs open, and I snap it closed. I can’t believe this is the crap they sell. It’s true, but still. Everyone deserves to live, no matter how they chose to live their life. It’s not up to us to play God.
She goes on, knowing I’m not buying. “Not to mention the six billion people population destroying the earth, and the war coming. Something had to be done. You should consider yourself lucky you weren’t killed in the process, and be thankful you still have a life. You should try to live it as much as you possibly can.”
Chills break out across my skin. “What do you mean something had to be done? How do you know zombies won’t infiltrate this place?” I blurt all at once. My brain is going into information biohazard alert zone.
Her eyes narrow as I try to straighten out my thoughts. “I think the details you want would be better coming from Dr. Finnegan. Besides, this compound has excellent security.”
We stare each other down. By the way her chin is set, I know she isn’t going to say anything else. I’m angry about more than what she told me. I can’t help myself for what I say next. “Looks like you have moved on since the outbreak.” I gesture toward her belly, and purse my lips as this sinks into her thick skull. “Congrats on your marriage. How are you going to break the news to your other engagement?” I ask with a voice that could freeze water. She steps back as her hand flies to her mouth in shock.
“Ru–Rudy?”
I can’t hold it back. “How could you do this to him? He’s been running around figuring out ways to get to you, and you couldn’t wait. You have no idea what he’s been through. You don’t deserve him.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t under–” She freezes and stands straighter, giving me a new kind of scrutiny, baby blue eyes narrowing to slits. “You love him.”
I blink as if in slow motion as my heart picks up speed. “He’s become a great friend.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. That’s why you’ve been so cold. You’re in love with him.” She sounds as if this is amusing. “I’ve seen it so many times before.”
I ignore her, getting angry. My fists turn to hard balls. “No. He helped me, so now I’m helping him. He’s coming to get you, and you better be ready,” I say so close to her face I can see her pores. I release my clinched fists, not willing to hit a preggo.
She looks panicked. “He can’t come here! How?”
I lift a shoulder, and pick at my cuticles. “We’ve been planning it for a while with a team. They won’t stop because I’m not there.”
“He can’t,” she all but screams at me. Her peachy-pale face turns pink high in her cheeks. I wipe her spittle from my face. I want to reply, but she turns and runs the other way. Definitely not my brightest moment.
Julie’s information makes me sit and stew. She made it sound like they’re repopulating to make the world a better place. Bullshit. How does anyone know what goes on with the rest of the world? Something else she said niggles my brain, giving me alarming chills. She said the earth was being destroyed. No shit about that, but she also said something had to be done? What does that mean? I still can’t figure out how the zombies are controlled like puppets. I saw them pick up the living without bringing them to their mouths. Julie hasn’t seen them, so she wouldn’t know. Maybe she does, but I doubt it.
I find my way back to the dorm. The girls hustle about getting ready for dinner. I don’t want to talk to any of them, as they sound happy and worry-free. Don’t they care? Well, I do. I don’t care how safe you are, or how safe it seems to be. Something is wrong with feeding living people, sick, old, criminal or not, to zombies. It makes me sick to think of the world that way.
Even though much was wrong with how things were, and how people thought, it balanced itself out. Still, people are born to live their lives how they see fit. Someone took advantage of zombies and use the situation to their selfish benefit, at least that’s what I got out of it. Why should just the healthy get to live? I need to talk to this doctor.
At dinner, I get a bowl of tomato and basil soup, even though I’m not hungry from lunch. My spoon stirs, swirling the basil specks. Several guys make advances I quickly shut down. Dalton and Kale stay clear of me, even th
ough I can tell Kale wants to sit and talk, but he opts to charm a handful of girls instead. I want to get out of here badly. The smell of this cafeteria will stick with me for the rest of my life.
I can’t believe the Coalition hasn’t taken this place down. It makes me think of other zombie camps, a scary thought. How many of these places are there? And more importantly, what can I do about it? What would I do with the correct information if I get it? Someone snaps me from my thoughts.
“Here you go.” A blonde nurse in green scrubs hands me a little cup with a pill in it.
“What is it?” I’m sure skepticism is written all over my face.
She smiles, not bothered. “A prenatal vitamin.” Julie was right about good prenatal care. It won’t hurt me, so I take it. “Thank you, Kansas.” She says before going to the next person.
Several of the guys in black canvas come in and look around. They have buzz cut hair, and are about the same height. Where did they find these guys? They spot me and make a beeline. Great. What now? I notice Dalton look this way.
“Kansas Moore?” I nod with a raised brow. “Please come with us.”
I stand as everyone stares, making me feel like I’m back in high school. I would flip them off if I were six years younger, but I’ve grown, and stuff the urge back down.
“What’s this about?” I ask in a bored tone as we walk at a rapid pace down the hall.
“Dr. Finnegan has requested to speak with you.”
I perk. “Oh yeah? I feel special having to be escorted by four guards,” I quip. The guy that spoke peers at me with interest. Great. Going across the grounds, we head to a building resembling all the other buildings. Go figure, but one Julie avoided telling me about. It perks me up a little bit more.
We walk through a front waiting room with dark green Berber carpet and wood paneled walls lined with metal folding chairs. I’m thinking the decor isn’t their choice, but it was original when this place was built, or maybe redecorated.