by Roberts, EM
The door to the small apartment slammed open, and Arnold strode into the room. It was unusual for him to be home this early, and Roe knew she’d hear about the cigarette. It wasn’t like she smoked every day. She only smoked one occasionally.
“What are you doing home so early?” Roe asked, as she walked into the kitchen area and started running water for dishes.
“I thought I’d surprise you,” he said, holding her gaze ith his own. There was something odd about the way he was looking at her.
“I’m surprised,” Roe answered dryly.
“I thought I might come home and have a romantic afternoon with my wife,” Arnold replied, coming into the kitchen to stand beside her.
“Imagine my surprise when Nosy Nellie across the hall told me we just had company,” Arnold gritted out, grabbing Roe’s shoulder with one hand and spinning her around to face him.
Roe’s stomach heaved. This didn’t bode well. Arnold had that look in his eye. It was his determined look, and he was no fool.
“This apartment stinks like cigarettes and sex,” he yelled angrily, spit flying and hitting Roe in the face.
“How would you know what sex smells like?” Roe yelled back, just as the baby started crying.
“I know what a whore smells like,” Arnold responded, shoving Roe away from him.
“I’m not a whore. I’m just a lonely woman who needs a man’s touch. A touch you haven’t given me in six months,” Roe cried passionately as she stood in front of him.
“Because I’m tired Roe. I’ve been working twelve hours a day to try and buy us a house! I wanted to surprise you with a house! Fuck that, now.” Arnold replied sadly as he made his way into the bedroom.
“Arnold, we can work this out. I’m sorry. He didn’t mean anything. It is you that I love” Roe pleaded as she followed along behind him.
“No, we can’t. I love you, but I can never trust you again,” Arnold replied as he tossed clothes into a bag.
Roe didn’t know what to do. She knew this was her fault, but he just didn’t seem to understand that she needed to be wanted. She needed a man’s touch, and she needed someone to let her know that she was still attractive. Just because she was a mother and married didn’t mean she suddenly stopped living.
“I want my son, and as soon as I figure things out, I’ll take him,” Arnold said, as he walked to the door.
“What do you mean? You’ll take him? He’s our son,” Roe asked, grabbing Arnold by the arm. He angrily shrugged her off.
“I know you wanted to travel, and I know you didn’t want children. I’m giving you that chance now. You can have what’s in the bank to go do what you want,” Arnold replied sadly.
New York City, 2003
Roe watched the young man walk across the stage with his diploma, and she felt regret. She regretted she hadn’t been the mother she should have been. She regretted that she’d put her own selfish needs in front of his. But, he’d graduated as Salutatorian of his high school class and had been accepted into a good college, so his father and step-mother had done something right.
Later when he walked up to her and enveloped her in his arms, she broke down and cried, shocking him.
“Mom, what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you cry. It’s just high school,” her son, Dion, laughed.
“I’m just so sad because I feel like I let you down,” she murmured. It was true, she did feel that way.
“Mom, I love you. All the summers I spent with you were great,” he replied, patting her consolingly on the back.
Those summers had been great, Roe thought. They’d gone everywhere and did everything. Museums, zoos, and aquariums. They’d shopped and laughed. But, she’d always been ready for him to return by the end of summer. It’d been bittersweet saying goodbye to him because as much as she loved him, she’d also felt relief that he was leaving. She was a sorry excuse for a mother, she thought, wanting even now to leave and be on her way.
Now
After that summer, she hadn’t seen him as much. They’d met once or twice a year for holidays, and eventually that had tapered off to phone calls. When the outbreaks had hit, Roe somehow knew she’d never see her son again. She’d just felt it. The grief had been overwhelming. She’d grieved for what hadn’t been and what could never be. But, here he was now. He was with her now. How could that have happened?
He looked different as he walked into the lodge’s room and sat on the edge of her bed. He smiled down at her, his teeth bloody and menacing. Roe reached a hand up to his face, and he caught it bringing it to his own mouth….
Roe jerked awake, her heart beating rapidly and looked around in confusion. Carly sat on the next bed, playing the Nintendo DS that Roe had charged in the Jeep last night. Roe sighed and remembered they were at a lodge in Colorado on their way to Yucca Mountain, Nevada. Hopefully, once they were there, they could rest and take advantage of the contents of the secret government survival facility.
Roe looked down at the bite on her arm and frowned. It was red and swollen. But, then again, she’d expected that it would be. She was a nurse and knew that it would probably become infected. Even though she was likely immune to the virus, she was sure the creature’s mouth contained all sorts of vile bacteria. She treated the wound again and groaned in pain at the headache she felt. She took a couple of pain-killers and made her way to the door, indicating Carly should come with her.
Once outside, she flinched at the sunlight and the pain it caused her eyes. She made her way to the front yard where Parker and Jax were being relieved by Izzy and her boyfriend.
“You guys had anything to eat?” she asked gruffly.
“Yeah, we had a couple of cans of soup,” Parker replied tiredly.
Roe turned to Izzy and the young man, noticing they were holding hands. She’d done the same with her first husband, Arnold, when they’d first met all those years ago. She imagined the two of them had the same look she was now seeing on this couple’s face. Roe didn’t know why, but she was thinking more and more often these days of that young love. She’d never met a man that had lived up to Arnold, and now she knew she probably never would.
“Roe, are you feeling okay? You look a little feverish.” Izzy asked, as she placed a hand on Roe’s forehead and frowned.
“Well, I’m not one hundred percent, but I don’t need to be to cook up some of your favorite—ramen noodles,” Roe smiled and winked
“Uhhhh, I used to love those things, but I swear I am so sick of them now. What I wouldn’t give for a pot of Theo’s chicken and dumplings right now,” Izzy exclaimed, holding one hand over her heart and sighing dramatically.
“Well, this is chicken flavored ramen—the closest you’ll get,” Roe responded dryly, smiling a little.
“Oh my god, Roe, you’ve been bitten. I just noticed it. Please say that’s not why you’re not feeling well,” Izzy cried, the look in her eyes reflecting abject terror.
“I’m fine. The last time when I was bitten, I felt the same way…no big deal, and don’t say anything in front of Carly. She’s lost too many people already. Her mother, Theo, Ella, and I don’t want her to think I’m next.” Roe admonished, leaning over to add the noodles to the boiling pot of water.
Later that evening, Roe had to admit something seemed off. She was burning up, and her vision was blurry. This definitely wasn’t like the last time. Plus, she was angry—very angry. She could feel rage boiling up inside of her, and she feared that she’d become one of the infected. She needed to write in her journal, she thought with sudden clarity. She needed to have a just in case note. A few minutes later, she opened the door of her room and saw Parker standing on the balcony.
“Parker, I need---to talk---to you,” she ground out.
“What’s up?” Parker asked walking over to her.
“I’m infected,” she confessed, showing him her arm. By this time, the swelling had increased and the bite oozed a yellowish infection.
“Roe,” Parker said sadly, “Please say it�
��s not true. You were immune before.”
“Third time is a charm. You can’t keep cheating it,” she smiled sadly.
“You might just be sick from the bite and not the infection. Have you ever thought of that?” Parker asked anxiously.
“Yeah, but it just seems off. Take Carly and let Izzy keep her tonight,” Roe ordered as she turned and walked into the room.
Parker followed her and sat on the edge of the bed.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I—want you to tie me down—just in case,” Roe requested. She knew she didn’t want to be a danger to any of her friends. She couldn’t imagine attacking them.
“If I turn, I want you to kill me, and I want you to remember me the way I was—promise?” Roe asked, smiling a little tremulously.
Roe grabbed a small ball of nylon rope and handed it to Parker. Roe watched as he, uncomfortably, cut two long pieces of rope. She lay on the bed as he tied her hands and legs together. She hoped this was just a fluke. She hoped she would wake and feel better, but if she’d learned anything during this last year, it was to expect the unexpected. It could go either way.
A few hours later, she thought she might possibly go out of her mind. She could barely see, and her eyes pained her. She was hungry, so very hungry. She could eat anything, she thought, angrily. Why was she being tormented like this? She heard the door open and the sound of voices:
“What should we do? I don’t want to say this, but she’s turned. She’s one of them. Look at her eyes. They’re completely red now,” a woman’s voice sad sadly. Roe thought it might be Izzy.
Food! Roe thought in excitement. There was food at the door. If she could just make it there! Food! She writhed on the bed.
“I told her I would do it, and I will, but I just want to wait a little longer and make sure there’s no hope,” the man replied.
Roe heard the door close, and the hunger eased a little. She imagined she could see a small boy in the daze. He looked at her and smiled.
“Dion,” she whispered. She smiled. Dion was here, and he was waiting. A tall, dark man walked up to the little boy and picked him up. Arnold. Arnold was here also. He’d returned for her, but had he forgiven her?
“Please forgive me,” Roe whispered through dry, chapped lips.
“We forgive you. Come with us. We love you,” her son and husband smiled as they held out their hands.
Roe smiled. They were here, and they had forgiven her. It was time to let go. She would be just fine. She gave into the redness.
Chapter 4: A New Kind of Terror
Hector was a strong man. He stood well over six feet and was solid muscle. His time in prison had taught him the value of maintaining and conditioning himself. That was how he’d been able to carry the woman out of the woods and onto the highway without even breaking a sweat. Slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Ella hadn’t even made a sound or a whimper during the trek.
He laid her down on the grass and walked to an abandoned car. He looked in. No keys, but he could still check and see if the battery was working. He flipped on the headlights and looked. Lucky for him, the battery hadn’t died from lack of use. He leaned under the steering column and attempted what he’d researched while in prison. Hotwiring a car. He’d researched because he thought it might be useful someday if he ever escaped prison. Today was that day.
With the car running and a quarter of a tank of gas, Hector walked over to a dead body on the side of the road. Fascinated, he squatted down and poked the gray, dried out flesh of the creature. His finger sunk into the skin and hit bone. He reached down and unlaced the shoes adorning the creature. Taking his prize, he walked back to Ella and used them to tie her hands. He realized he also needed to tie her feet, so he took off his belt and used it as a restraint. Hector had seen the woman in action, and he knew if she thought there was a way to escape she would try it. With that in mind, he threw her into the trunk and stabbed a couple of holes into the metal so she didn’t suffocate. After this, he looked down at the atlas he’d brought with him.
He hadn’t really cared when Ella had shot Adams in the head. In fact, he’d thought it quite comical. Adams had been convinced the woman wouldn’t do it, but she had. She’d killed the bastard, and Hector couldn’t help but feel a little bit of admiration for her. Now, however, she was his meal ticket. He would do what Adams had been attempting to do. He would take Ella to Yucca Mountain, and it would be Hector who would rule and gain control of the facility.
He heard Ella’s muffled groan from within the trunk. For a moment back there, he was worried he’d hit her too hard with the butt of his gun. He guessed he hadn’t since he now heard her moaning and moving around. He thumped on the trunk:
“We’re gonna take a ride now. You behave.”
“Fuck you!”
She had spirit; he’d give her that. He was a man, however, who would enjoy breaking that spirit. He’d killed lots of people before, and he didn’t mind violence. He didn’t mind admitting he wondered what it would be like to rape her. He’d never had sex with a woman before. When he’d been arrested, he was a pimply-faced virgin. And, in the joint, he’d had sex with men, but it wasn’t the same. A woman was soft—Ella was soft. It was something to think about. He didn’t delude himself—it would be rape. He knew a woman like her would never come willingly. He had no problem forcing her.
He drove about thirty miles when he noticed smoke in the distance. He kept driving toward it, his curiosity piqued. A few miles later, he found the source of the smoke and was somewhat surprised. A barricade of cars sat in the middle of the road, preventing him from traveling further. As he slowed to a stop, five men with weapons drawn approached the car.
“Get out nice and slow, buddy,” a man ordered gruffly. He was dressed in jeans and a leather vest with a black and white bandana wrapped around his head-doo rag style. The man’s beard and mustache were unkempt and his teeth gleamed gold in the sunlight.
“There’s a toll for going down this road, and you gotta pay up Mister,” another man announced, smiling sinisterly.
“Well, I can appreciate an enterprising attitude, but the truth is, I don’t have anything to trade,” Hector said easily, as he stepped from the vehicle and crossed his arms, flexing the prison tattoo on his forearm.
“You done time?” the man who’d ordered Hector from the car asked, glancing at Hector’s prison tattoos.
“Yeah. Since I was seventeen. Six lifers,” he replied, flexing his arm again. Hector wasn’t worried. Shit happened, and if he died, he died. That was just the way it was. He wouldn’t go down without a fight, though.
“Well, shucks, man. You ain’t got no need to pay toll,” the man clapped him on the back and stuck his weapon back down the back of his pants.
“Yeah, have a drink with us, and we’ll swap some stories about the good old days.” Hector had no choice but to follow the men. Plus, it wouldn’t be so bad having a drink. Adams wouldn’t let him drink alcohol when he’d been with him, and he’d developed a taste for it while living on his own during that time after the outbreaks.
“My name’s Joe,” the first man introduced himself and then went around and introduced the remaining four men. He pulled a fifth of bourbon from a box on the ground and handed the half-empty bottle to Hector who promptly unscrewed the lid and took a health swig. Man, it tasted good. He took another big gulp of it and smiled.
Just as Hector was about to introduce himself and thank the man for the drink, a thump came from the trunk of the car. The men looked amongst themselves. The thump came again, and Hector dropped the bottle of booze and grabbed his weapon.
“Now, what’s in that trunk of yours? You holding out on us? I thought you said you didn’t have anything to trade?” Joe asked, pulling his own weapon and aiming it at Hector.
“Man, I don’t want no trouble. I’m just on my way to Nevada—traveling—looking around,” Hector said, backing towards the car, his weapon still aimed at the m
en.
“Now, you know, we can’t let you go until we see what’s in your trunk. It might be something we need,” Joe replied, his gun never wavering. Hector had no doubt the man would shoot him if he didn’t open the trunk. He sighed and reached in the car for the hood release.
Hector popped the trunk and the men crowed in delight.
“Well, lookee there, a girl. He’s got a hot piece of ass in his trunk!”
“A woman---look at all that purty red hair!”
Hector sighed. If the bitch had only stayed quiet, he could have sat a spell and then lit out, but she’d had to move around in the trunk. These men were unpredictable anyway and throw a woman into the mix, and he wasn’t sure what would happen. He had to think fast. Now was the time for prison protocol.
“I challenge Joe,” Hector stated. Upon his pronouncement, the men’s attention swiveled back to him. Comprehension dawned in their eyes.
“What the fuck you talking about?” Joe sputtered. He stared at Hector, sizing him up.
“The woman is mine. Rules of the house. When someone wants your bitch, you have to fight for her. I’ll fight you for her,” Hector stated. If the man had been in the big house like he said he’d been, he’d understand Hector’s challenge.
Joe definitely understood. Hector could see the light bulb go off in understanding, and he was pretty sure Joe didn’t want to fight him, but now that Hector had brought it up, there was no going back for either man. There was a certain type of code that prisoners followed even after they’d been released back into society. He knew that if Joe declined his challenge, he would lose favor among his men.
“Man, you’re gonna let a woman come between a brotherhood?” Joe asked, handing his gun to one of the men.
“Yeah man, we could just share her,” another of the men piped up, nervously.
Hector had about ten seconds to formulate a plan in the time that the men had found Ella in his trunk. To his way of seeing the big picture, he needed Ella to trade for the codes. He wanted control of the facility or at least part of it, and he was tired of being on the road. He wanted some kind of good life, and it looked like the facility was the only way to get it. He needed her alive, and these men looked like the kind to use and discard. Plus, if he could gain control of the group, these would be extra men when he did get to the facility. If there was anything he’d learned from Adams, it was the need for backup.