We Are The Survivors

by Vanessa Marie

  I bite my forearm enough to break the skin. It’s red and puffy. Blood starts to surface at the teeth marks. It stays like that until they open the doors for lunch.

  I miss Sara and Alex’s meals. Will I ever eat another one of theirs again? There are so many experiences I can think about never having and I’m thinking about food. I need to sleep.

  I sit in the corner when the door opens. Colt steps in.

  “Get up time for lunch,” he says.

  I hold my arm out to show him the bite mark. “I was bit.”

  He shakes his head. “How?” he asks.

  “Before you took me. None of you noticed it. You can let me go. I’ll leave. I’ll die out there. Blake can’t bring himself to kill me. Let me leave and I’ll die and turn out there. I’ll go away.”

  “No, you’re lying. You bit yourself. I can see how fresh the bite is. Nice try,” he says.

  He pulls me up by my wrist and while holding my wrist with one hand he punches my stomach with the other. I hunch over in pain.

  “That is punishment for lying and trying to escape for the second time,” he says.

  My stomach hurts. I see the key ring with six keys on it hanging from his belt loop. The loop is hanging on by a thread. I stand up straight with the bravest expression I can have then I throw up on his shoes.

  He backs up and I rip his keys off his belt loop without him seeing. He kicks his shoes off at the wall. He cringes.

  “She puked on me guys. Clean it up,” he says. I hear laughing from the living room. I close the keys in my fist and hide it behind my back. “They aren’t your friends. Why are you working for Blake?” I ask.

  “They are my friends. Blake is my friend.” He steps back further in disgust.

  “No he isn’t; he would leave you in a crowd of zombies to save himself.” I slide the keys in my back pocket.

  “He was there when my parents left me on the streets. He talked to me. Told me to come with him, that he would take care of me. He protected me before the apocalypse and during it,” he says.

  “He takes care of you because you are his puppet. A person that evil can’t care for anyone. He had a girlfriend he doesn’t care about. He has no feelings. He is using you,” I say.

  “Maybe I’m using him for something too.”

  He looks up and grabs my arm. He pulls me in the living room. Lunch is a turkey sandwich with mayo and bacon. Colt skips lunch and goes to the closet in the mudroom. He grabs a new pair of shoes.

  I am nervous that the keys are in my pocket. If he notices I tried to escape three times he could kill me. Is there a third strike? The third time I try to escape will they kill me?

  I eat my lunch. I’m hauled back to the room. I tell Alyssa I have the keys. She tells me that I should have waited but it’s good I have the keys. She tells me to go out at night when they are asleep, to grab a gun. One that will shoot many rounds. We can escape later when I can get the keys to her and her sister’s rooms. I agree to it.

  I must be smart. I don’t want to wake them up or put Alyssa and Pamela in danger. This could mean freedom or death. It’s my fault my parents are dead, I don’t want to get them killed either.

  After dinner, they shut the hall lights. I take out the keys and go to open the door. My hands shake with fear while I’m putting them in the lock. I open it a crack. The hallway is completely dark. I unlock the door across from mine. It has guns hung, from big nails, on the walls. Big guns.

  There is a shelf with guns underneath the hung ones. I grab an AK-47 from the bottom shelf. I grab a box of ammo and throw the gun on my bed. I lock the door to the armory up.

  I load the gun with bullets. I hear footsteps in the distance. I close my door and go to lock it then I don’t. He won’t have the keys to unlock it and he’ll now I have them because the door is unlocked.

  I slide the gun under the bed with the box of ammo. I jump in bed with the keys in my hand. I throw the covers over myself. I shake under the covers.

  The door opens. Footsteps come closer. Colt grabs my shirt collar and pulls me up into a sitting position.

  “Where are the keys? I know you have them,” he says.

  “What?” I say.

  He rips the keys from my hands. I shrink back scared he might hit me.

  “I hate you so much. If Blake didn’t tell me not to kill you I would’ve already.” He slams the door and locks it.

  I lay in the bed and sigh a sigh of relief. Blake doesn’t care about my escape. He built this house as inescapable, he has “guards” to watch the doors. In his mind, I won’t get past the front door.

  The best action to take is to prove him wrong.

  I don’t sleep the rest of the night. It takes an eternity for Colt to open the door for breakfast. I hear Blake talking in a walkie talkie at the table. He puts it away. Who could he be talking to? It sounded like an older man.

  Hopefully it’s not more members of his group. I hope he doesn’t have more members.

  He looks at me. I sit in silence. He won’t stop staring.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You look a lot like my sister,” he says.

  “Why do you have kids instead of adults helping?” I ask.

  He leans in closer so the others won’t hear, “Teenagers are easier to manipulate rather than adults. Teenagers look up to adults when they don’t have role models. They don’t turn good money away or food in this case. Speaking of manipulating, I heard that Kay is living with you guys. She’ll be the next to be taken.”

  I try not to show to much anger at his words. “Why do you have to take her? You have me. Leave her alone. You and me can be brother and sister just don’t take her. She obviously doesn’t want to be with you. She’s unappreciative. What do you need her for?”

  He opens his mouth about to say something. I hold his hand to stop him. Maybe if he sees me as wanting to be his sister I can get him to trust me more.

  “Yeah, your right. I know you are. I don’t need her because I have you now. I need to focus on you,” he says with a smile.

  He lets go of my hand and sits back when the plates are put on the table. I wipe my hand on my jeans. I see a dress in the corner of my eye as the plates are set down. I turn around and see Colt escorting a very tall woman in the hallway. I close my eyes and open them again. Am I going crazy?

  I turn to Blake. “Who was that?”

  “She is now a member of our group. She had to do a lot of proving herself but she passed. She helps out.”

  “How old is she?” I ask.

  “You’ll meet her soon,” he says.

  “I want to meet her now,” I say.

  “Not possible. I don’t want you knowing about her much,” he says while chewing.

  I take a bite of toast. “Why?”

  “It’s complicated,” he says.

  I finish a piece of toast. “Why aren’t Alyssa and her sister eating with us?” I ask.

  He takes a sip of his juice. “Since you have been attempting escape I figured your behavior can influence them. After you said what you said, they can influence you instead. I’m glad you’re coming around,” he says.

  I’m a bad influence for trying to escape a crazy killer’s house? Any more hypocritical comments, Blake? I would love some advice from a guy who was in jail. Can you tell me how to make a toothbrush into a knife please? A bad influence? He made the top of my list to kill first then it’s Colt.

  I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Who am I becoming?

  “Your escape attempts are disrespectful and I need you to stop. You try again and I must take drastic measures. I will kill one of those girls. One of them is your friend, right?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “You can’t escape,” he says.

  “Why do you have them?” I ask.

  He bangs his fists against the table. “Don’t question me.”

  I eat breakfast. I plot our last escape plan while in my room. I must kill them all. I will wait a few days. Hit the
m at their weakest like Alyssa planned.

  I should get the keys again. This time the whole key ring. I won’t leave Alyssa or Pamela here. Alyssa gave me an escape plan. I can’t leave her.

  This room has nothing entertaining in it. It drives me crazy. I get bored all the time. “Alyssa, can we talk?” I ask.

  “Yeah, what is it?” she asks.

  “There is nothing to do in here. Tell me about your family,” I say.

  She hesitates for a few moments. “My parents died on the first day of the apocalypse. They got sick and turned. My brother got my siblings and I to a bulk food store. We live there. My two sisters and brothers are there. We had some new arrivals a few days ago, I think. They were looking for their family. I forget who they were looking for. That’s it,” she says.

  “Tell me about your family before the apocalypse,” I say.

  She pauses again. It’s hard to talk about her parents. “My parents were great. They did a lot of charity work. They would donate money to every foundation there was. They considered adopting children when Zane left to be on his own. They went to the adoption agency and wanted a boy. They came back with three girls and Skylar they said they were siblings and that they couldn’t split them up. Tell me about your family,” she says.

  “My dad died when I was young. He was in a car accident. He was a great guy. He took me everywhere. We did everything together. It was my birthday when he died. I insisted on having a certain cake. It was a princess one.

  “Dad went to the store; he didn’t come back. I blame myself for that. If he didn’t go to the store he would be alive still. What would have happened? It’s the butterfly effect. My mom would have never married Fred, Blake’s dad. She would be alive. Blake wouldn’t have kidnaped us,” I say.

  “That is not true. Bad stuff goes on. There is good and bad. Think about what you can change. We kill this group and we can save lives. They’ve killed girls. They aren’t killing us because they are using us to get to our friends, our family. We get out if we die trying it’s better than dying in their hands. We die shooting.

  “Your father’s accident had nothing to do with you. If your dad was alive and she got killed in this world they would be apart. Now they are together forever,” she says.

  “When we get out where do we go?” I ask.

  “We can go to your group first and me and Pam can get a ride,” she says.

  The door opens and I jump on my bed. Colt brings me to the table for lunch. The girl I saw at breakfast is sitting at the table. She has blonde hair down to her shoulders. She is eating with her head down. Blake is in his usual spot.

  Lunch is a sandwich, turkey and bacon. They don’t have any variety.

  I look at the woman. She looks about Nya’s age. She is very timid.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hi,” she says quietly staring at her food.

  Blake is eating. I start eating.

  “What is your name?” I ask her.

  She opens her mouth to speak.

  “Don’t answer that,” Blake says.

  She sits there eating her sandwich. He doesn’t want her to miss her former life so he doesn’t say her name I bet. Why is he so determined for me to know as little as possible about her? I wonder if we can take her with us. I need to talk to her.

  “Can I have water?” I ask Blake.

  “Yeah.” He goes into the kitchen.

  “Do you want to leave here?” I whisper in the woman’s ear when Blake has his back turned.

  She looks in the kitchen. She watches Blake put ice from a tray in a cup. She turns to me with pleading eyes. “Please, stop talking to me.”

  “There are two girls in here that need help. Help me.”

  Blake is filling the empty ice tray with water.

  “Please, I’m going to get in trouble.” She glances over her shoulder at Blake.

  I grab her wrist. “Get me out, get me out of here, please.”

  He turns with my cup in his hand. I let go of her. He sets my cup on the table. I start eating again.

  I need to convince her. We need help. She’s been here the longest she’ll know more about them than us.

  I knock over my glass on purpose when Blake isn’t looking. I jump up. Blake jumps up with me. “I’m sorry. It was an accident. I’ll clean it.” I walk towards the kitchen.

  Blake pulls me back into my chair by my shirt from across the table. “I’ll get it. You stay.”

  Once he is gone I lean over to the woman again. “You have to help us. If you don’t a little girl is probably going to die. He locked her up with her sister. Please help me. I’m begging you.”

  She turns to Blake who is grabbing paper towels out of the cabinet. She turns to me. She closes her eyes and nods. She is silent for a few minutes the she looks at me.

  “I’ll help. I’ll help you all,” she says.

  “Thank you.”

  Blake comes back and cleans the water. He dries under our plates. He picks up my cup and puts it in the sink. He sits at the table. “You are probably wondering why she is here eating with us. She isn’t a hostage. She is a part of this. My father made her get the ransom money from the families, made her cook and clean for members. He had her for years. Ever since she was a kid.

  “After my dad created the group it went on for five years without being exposed. The group made a ton of ransom money in Florida. They were spending it everywhere. One guy decided he would turn them in to the police, do what was right. Everyone was arrested except dad, of course. Other members set up in another place found her in the rooms where they kept the girls. They fled before they were caught. Dad fled to a new place; Las Vegas. He lived there for five years. He was under the radar all that time. He married your mom to keep his cover.”

  I am sorry for her. She has been held here for years. Her family could still be looking for her. I don’t want that to be me. My friends and family worrying about me for years. It’s horrible to think about.

  Blake takes my plate. Colt grabs my arm and pulls me up.

  “Don’t yank her arm. You’ll hurt her,” Blake says.

  “You tell me to do everything. I’m sick of the crap, I do what I please.”

  “You listen or you can find a place yourself,” he says.

  “Whatever.” He pulls me in my room.

  “Why did you argue with him?” I ask.

  He is angry. He shakes his head. “What you said. You’re right. I don’t have to listen to him.”

  This could work to my advantage. He is fed up with Blake. He has the keys. I just need to convince him.

  “Then let us go. It would hurt him. I could leave with you if you want,” I say.

  “No, I have another plan,” he says walking out of the door. I grab his leg and pull him to the floor. I grab the keys out of his pocket while he is pushing me off him. He doesn’t notice. He gets up and slams the door.

  There are only three keys on the chain. I hear him lock the door. He knew I would go for the keys so he separated them. How do I get out? He’ll take them back tomorrow if he knows I have them.

  I open the nightstand looking for something to pick the lock and I find a bobby pin. I stand up and go to the wall.

  “Alyssa, do you know how to pick a lock with a bobby pin?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “How do you do it?” I ask.

  “You straighten the pin out and put the straight end in and fiddle around with it.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I locked myself out of the house and looked it up on the internet,” she says.

  “Oh that wonderful thing called internet, where all your problems would be solved by one search.”

  “Yeah I miss it,” she says.

  “I will wait until after dinner then I will pick the lock and get us guns. There is a woman here too. She is leaving with us.” I straighten the pin.

  “Okay.”

  This is it. This is the last attempt. We are getting out and killing them a
ll. Myself before this wouldn’t even think about killing a person. This is survival. You defend yourself from harm.

  I can’t turn back now. I push forward. I kneel by my bed and pray.

  “Dad and Mom, protect me from harm and know that I have no choice but to do this. I miss you both. I hope you know that.

  “God and Goddess, protect me from harm and give Blake and his friends the karma they deserve,” I say.

  The boys should be sleeping by now. I push the pin in the lock and fiddle with it. I hear a click. I open the door. I did it. I go to the armory door and try to unlock it. The keys don’t work.

  I take the pin out of the door and push it in the lock. I unlock the armory door. I take two high powered rifles and two boxes of ammo. I close the door and look in the living room.

  The boys are sleeping on the couch and on sleeping bags on the floor. They don’t even have their own rooms. I don’t see Blake sleeping in the living room. He gets his own room and they don’t. Don’t they see how they are being treated.

  I load the guns and put them under the bed. I will stay up until they open the door for breakfast then I will shoot Colt and the boys.

  This is it. I feel scared and eager to leave at the same time. Where will I be when I walk through the front door? How do I get back to the community?

  I might die in the morning but it won’t be for nothing. I was kidnaped for a reason. Maybe I’m meant to take down this group. The apocalypse has been bad but if it didn’t happen I wouldn’t be killing them in the morning. Maybe this is a good thing I’m doing. I will save lives. No more girls should go through this.

  What does Colt have planned for us though?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN-MARINA

  We had a funeral for Oakland the day after he died. It was awful. The kids were crying. They clung to Sarah for dear life when they saw his headstone. We gathered around his grave. We put a boulder with his name on it as a gravestone at the top of his grave. I cried myself.

  I didn’t talk to him, didn’t know much about him. He was still one of us here. He protected us because he was kind. He let us stay here. He helped us.

  We got back in the gates and Cassandra was packing her belongings in the car. I ran up to her. “Why are you packing?” I asked.