The Beginning

by Alice I Lunsford

  “That’s what I plan to find out. Mitch, you head on with Andrea and the kids. I’m going back to scan the elevator footage and logs, see where she went. What time did she leave?”

  “Just after lunch, so around one, I think.”

  I nod and quickly turn to head back down the hall.

  “Alex, wait.” I pause at Mitch’s voice. “I’ll come help you after I help Andrea.”

  I nod and start down the hall, ignoring the part of me that is screaming at me to run. Panic won’t help right now.

  It feels like an eternity before I’m at my desk, even though its only been minutes at most, but I quickly pull up the security files and start running them at 10x speed starting from noon. I’m at 12:52 PM when Mitch comes in and closes my door.

  “Anything yet?”

  “No.” I reply, shaking my head. “About to hit 1:00 PM now.”

  Mitch hurries around my desk and leans in, both of us watching the video feed from the hall. At 1:13 PM I slow the video down to 2x speed when a man in a Recovery uniform stops in front of Mitch and Andrea’s door. After a few seconds, Destiny joins him in the hall and they head to the elevators. I switch to the elevator feeds until I find the one they boarded, but the way he’s standing blocks the panel, so we can’t see what button he hits. My blood boils in my veins when I see him pull out a needle and stick Destiny in the hip. Moments later she collapses, and the man turns and grins at the camera before the screen goes black.

  “What the fuck!?” Mitch’s voice rings out in the room, echoing my thoughts.

  I stay silent as I pull up the elevator logs, with the camera feed going blank I’m hoping we can find the floor info in there. When I open the logs for today my heart sinks. The logs are wiped clean, nothing for the last 24 hours on any elevator. I turn slowly towards Mitch.

  “Where the hell is she?”

  Chapter Ten

  Location Unknown

  Destiny Williams

  I wake slowly from a dreamless sleep. I feel the fog trying to pull me back down, but I force myself to open my eyes. Impenetrable darkness greets me. Where am I? I look around, but I can’t see anything. I move to sit up and realize my hands are bound above me. Panic surges through me, and I take a moment to get control of myself. I need to remain calm, figure out where I am and what’s going on. I know I’m laying down on something, probably a bed, and while my hands are bound above me my legs are free. I move them experimentally, there’s a blanket covering me, and my feet are bare but I can feel my jeans rubbing together and I sigh in relief. Thank God, I’m not naked.

  I hear the click of a door closing just before a light comes on and blinds me. I flinch and close my eyes tightly. Fuck, that hurts. I try hard to push it aside as I hear footsteps approach. I’m no longer alone.

  “You’re awake, finally.”

  The man’s voice is strangely familiar, but I can’t place it. I slowly squint one eye open and turn towards it, but I can’t make the person out yet. The light is still too bright for me.

  “Who are you? Where am I?” My voice comes out shaky and weak, not even close to the commanding tone I was going for. I feel like an idiot as soon as the words leave my mouth. I doubt someone who ties another person to a bed is going to just drop all the answers in my lap the second they come face to face with me.

  “I’m disappointed, after all these years you’ve forgotten me?”

  My eye is slowly adjusting to the light, so I squint open my other eye and rapidly blink, trying to focus past the brightness of the room.

  Whoever is with me is standing to my left, between me and the door. As my eyes finally adjust to the light I look up at their face and a shocked gasp escapes me. It’s impossible, the man before me can’t be here. There’s no way. I close my eyes and shake my head in denial.

  “No, you can’t be here. I’m just having a dream.”

  “Oh, I’m here, sweetheart. In the flesh. Don’t look away from me.” His voice is cold and has a tinge of anger that chills me.

  “No, you’re dead. You died six years ago.” I won’t open my eyes, I can’t. He’s a doppelganger, that’s the only explanation. Even though doppelgangers don’t exist. Get your shit together, Destiny.

  “Wrong. Look at me.” The anger is still there, and it’s getting stronger, more raw. He’s never talked to me like this before. Assuming it’s him, but it can’t be him. I slowly open my eyes and look again. My husband, dead six years now, is standing before me. Not a rotting corpse in the ground, but alive, breathing before me. He looks the same as he did the day he was deployed. His sandy brown hair is longer, but it’s the same face, same eyes. How?

  “You can’t be Tom. Tom’s dead.” A tear I hadn’t realized was there slips slowly down the side of my face.

  “God, I’ve missed hearing you say my name.” His eyes closed and he smiles blissfully. “You know, I haven’t heard my name spoken in years.”

  “I don’t understand, how are you here?”

  “I’ve been here, waiting for you.”

  “But they said you died.”

  “They?” Tom laughs, but it’s not the laugh I remember. This one is cold and dark and sends a chill through me. “They lied to you.” Tom says calmly, but his face is a mix of rage and hate, and his burning eyes send a spike of fear shuddering through my limbs. This can’t be Tom. It has to be a dream, but deep inside me, I know it’s not a dream. It’s real.

  “Why am I tied to this bed?” I hope changing the topic will get that look of rage off his face. He stares at me, and the look fades but it’s quickly replaced by a cold grin and wicked glint in his eye.

  “It’s so you don’t hurt yourself.”

  “Why would I hurt myself?”

  “Because of this.” He replies before pulling a syringe out of his pocket.

  “What the hell is that?” I choke out, my eyes glued to the needle. I hate needles in normal circumstances, and this one terrifies me.

  “It’s what you needed so we can be together like we used to be. Be a family again.”

  “There’s no way in hell I’ll let you stick me with that needle!” This has to be a nightmare!

  “It’s too late.” He grins at me as he puts the needle back in his pocket.

  “What?” I ask dumbly as I look from his pocket to his face.

  “I said it’s too late. You can’t stop what’s already been done.”

  Realization hits me. He said needed before, not need. Crap, crap, crap! What the hell did he put in me?

  “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I’m just going to put you back to sleep, so you don’t have to experience any pain. Some of them were in a lot of pain when I tested it, and I love you too much to see that happen.” He says as he gestures and a man comes in through the door behind him. “I can’t touch you yet, not until the medicine does its work, so he’ll be my hands. Don’t worry baby, I’ll be able to touch you soon and everything will be perfect, you’ll see.”

  “No, please, tell me what you gave me!” The mans almost to me now, and I squirm away on the bed as far as I can with my hands bound to the frame. Oh God, let this be a nightmare!

  “It’ll protect you from what they did to me. Without it, you’d just become like all the rest, and I can’t have that. Not you. Just relax. You’ll sleep for a while and when you wake up, you’ll be perfect.”

  The other man has reached the bed and I begin thrashing, trying to keep him from getting a grip on me. “Tom, please! Don’t do this, I don’t want this.”

  “Be quiet!” Tom’s voice lashes out and instinctively I stop moving as my eyes meet his angry glare. “You are mine, always. You’ll appreciate what I’ve done soon enough. Now go to sleep.”

  Vaguely I feel the needle pull free and realize he must have injected me when I froze. Perfect. I can feel the narcotic start to work as my limbs grow heavy and my eyelids droop. Before sleep fully takes me, my thoughts drift to Alex and Chris and my heart aches as I dwell on my feelings for both. I only just met Alex, but
I realize now that I love him. And my baby boy, my Chris, he’s with Andrea and Mitch, so I know he’s safe. They’ll all protect him for me.

  The darkness finally tugs me under, and I drift into a dreamless sleep.

  ~~*~~

  When I wake again my body is tired and aching like I’ve overworked every muscle in some epic marathon, and to top it off my bladder is screaming at me for release. As I open my eyes, I realize I’m no longer laying on my back with my hands bound above me. I’m now on my left side with my arms free. Hope zings through me, and I realize maybe I can get out of here. If my body will cooperate.

  I move a leg experimentally but can only move it a few inches before I stop, gasping for breath while my muscles quiver. Great, I’m definitely in no condition to run and probably going to piss the bed. How long have I been out?

  I look around and realize I’m in a new room. The first room was windowless with a single door and the only furniture was the bed I was on, but the one I’m in now has two doors, a dresser, at least one nightstand, a chair in the corner by a heavily curtained window, and the bed I’m in. There may be more in the room but rolling over seems like an impossible task so instead, I lay on my side and try to ignore the demands of my bladder.

  I’m contemplating which would be worse, falling on the floor or wetting the bed, when the door opens and Tom walks in. He grins at me, and I can’t help but remember years ago when we were first married. He was always the early riser, up before me every morning. He’d always come in shortly after I woke up, while I was still in bed, with a cup of coffee in his hand and a warm smile filled with love. I always felt safe and comforted then.

  Looking at him now, the warmth is gone. There’s an emptiness to his smile, a coldness in his eyes that chills me. I definitely don’t feel safe anymore.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” He used to say that too when he’d come in with my coffee. It doesn’t feel the same either. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like ass.” My voice cracks as I speak, and my throat feels raw and dry. “I’m thirsty…and…I need to use the bathroom.” I flinch, hating that I have to ask for help.

  “Of course, of course. The bathrooms right through there.” He points to the other door.

  “Umm…I don’t think I can make it. Can you get someone to help me?” I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks. Ugh, I’m blushing.

  “No need.” He replies and walks towards me.

  “Wait, you said you couldn’t touch me.” I quickly say trying to hide the panic from my voice.

  “I can now.” Tom says, reaching down and lifting me out of the bed.

  His arms are warm and strong around me as he carries me to the bathroom. I remember how his touch used to thrill me, but now it’s sending spikes of fear and panic through me. He feels real, but at the same time, I can’t believe it’s really him. He was dead for almost six years until yesterday. Wait, was it yesterday?

  “Do you need me to help you with anything else, or stay in here? I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.” Tom says as he gently sets me on my feet next to the toilet.

  Standing seems to be okay, and I probably can accomplish falling on the toilet fairly well.

  “I think I can handle the rest.”

  “I’ll wait in the room, then.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I state quickly, embarrassed. “I should be good now.”

  “You couldn’t get out of the bed on your own. I’ll wait in the room.” Tom replies, an irritated edge to his voice.

  I decide not to argue further and just nod before he turns and leaves. It’s not long before Tom is helping me back into the room again and my face feels like it’s on fire from my blush.

  “How long was I out for?” I ask as Tom sets me on the bed.

  “Long enough.”

  “Really? Long enough? Sure, that’s a great answer. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and just want to know how long I’ve been here, and you say, ‘long enough’. That’s bullshit. How LONG is ‘long enough’? A day? A week?” I realize I’m yelling by the end, which normally would have bothered me but I’m beyond the point of caring now. Too much has happened in a short amount of time to turn my world upside down, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get a direct answer to my question.

  But apparently answering me isn’t on Tom’s agenda. Instead of answering Tom stares coldly at me in silence long enough that my temper starts to cool, and I begin to feel the fear stab at me again. I shouldn’t let myself forget this isn’t the same Tom I remember. It’s been years, can I even predict what he’ll say or do anymore? The thought is chilling, and I break eye contact as I try to steady myself again.

  “Now that you’ve got that out of your system, let’s eat.” Tom says jovially. “I’m sure you’re starving.”

  His sudden perkiness is unnerving, but thankfully I’m given a momentary reprieve as he leaves the room. It’s time to try and figure out where I am. Looking around the room doesn’t help much. It looks like a normal bedroom. Am I in the facility still? There are thick curtains on the wall across from the foot of the bed, but are they covering windows or are they just decorative? While I stare, the corner of one of the curtains flutters and my eyes freeze to that spot. No, maybe I imagined it. It flutters again. A fan, maybe? I quickly look around and see no fan, ceiling or otherwise.

  My eyes dart back to the curtain as a new terror blooms in my chest. I didn’t think I could be more terrified, but what I’m starting to suspect is a thousand times worse than being the captive of my supposedly dead husband. The curtain flutter is larger this time, and a splash of light dances on the floor below momentarily before it comes to rest again.

  Shit, shit, shit! I’m outside!?

  Outside with all the blood and death. Outside where people are being torn apart. Outside where a disease that brings all the zombie movie horrors to life is running rampant through the world. The sound of a bird’s song fills the room momentarily, cementing the fact that I’m outside. Outside. Crap, I’m so fucked.

  Chapter Eleven

  Peyton Industries, Site 1: Ortega Mountains

  Alex Peyton

  It’s been days since I’ve slept, since I last saw Destiny. We searched every room on every level without a sign. The biggest shock was when we reached 7B’s level. We found it empty, not a sign of any off the Recovery members that were assigned to that floor, no sign of 7B. 7B was gone, and so was Destiny. I knew the crazy fucker had her. Was he doing it to get at me? How could he even know about her and me? The questions seemed endless and I had no answers to most of them. I knew only one thing, Destiny was out there somewhere in the shit storm 7B had unleashed on the world and I had to find her, to save her.

  “Alex?” Mitch sounds almost as tired as I feel. “Something’s up outside.”

  Oh yeah, the other issue. Before 7B and Destiny disappeared everything outside was quiet, but a day later the infected came knocking. Or pounding, to be more exact. A ‘horde’, as everyone was starting to call it, had shown up practically overnight and surrounded the compound. Down here it was silent, but if you ventured onto the upper level you could hear their noise. The growls, eerie screams, and sounds of flesh pounding against the walls were overwhelming. I had ordered that floor cleared, more to save everyone from the sound than in fear of them getting in. The facility had been designed with the thought of providing protection in a war, but the design also worked well against the infected crazy’s outside too.

  “What are they doing now?”

  “They cleared the road by the gate and there’s just one standing there now. He’s…well, he’s calling your name.”

  “What!?” Impossible, they’ve been here for days and not a single word from any of them has been heard. Now suddenly they can speak my name?

  “Yeah, I know it’s some freaky shit. And the rest of them are just standing there quietly. What do you want to do?”

  “Shit…I WANT to avoid it because this has all the feeling of a nightmare or horr
or movie and that’s the trap that kills you horribly. But,” I pause as I stand up from my desk. “You know my curiosity always gets the best of me eventually, so I may as well give in to it now.”

  “Are you sure?” Mitch looks at me cautiously. “We don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Jesus, Mitch. I’m not going out there on the road. I’ll be safe on our side of the wall.”

  “I just don’t like it.”

  “No one likes it, Mitch. But what they are doing now is going to freak people out worse than the mindless crap they were doing before. We don’t need a panic in here, so I’m going up.”

  Mitch nods and follows me silently to the elevator before speaking again.

  “Can you at least take your gun?”

  “If they get in, I’m screwed, gun or not. No, I’m going straight up and getting this over with. You can come or stay here, it’s up to you.”

  Mitch stares at me looking torn. I can tell he wants to come almost as badly as he wants to stay here and pretend nothing is going on up there. The elevator arrives, and I look at Mitch before stepping on. A moment later he joins me.

  Getting outside seems to take no time at all, but once we step outside the building doors an eerie silence envelopes us and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s dawn, the sun slowly peeking over the edge of the mountains, but no sounds break the silence. No birds, no crickets, nothing. I glance up at the sky, half expecting to see dark storm clouds blowing in to complete the scene, but the sky is clear. I shake my head to clear it, I’m letting my imagination get the best of me.

  Mitch and I walk across the yard and stop about 15 feet from the gate. The silence is still unbroken, whoever was out there remained silent this whole time. I glance at Mitch, wondering if maybe someone else had a runaway imagination earlier, when a voice calls out.

  “Hello, Peyton.” While the voice is unfamiliar the way he says my name isn’t, but I can’t place it.