Serena Rogue (Book 1): Zombie Infestation

by Bushman, LJ

  Andrea watched me like a bug under her microscope. My hands were still free and I knew she tempted me to earn more punishment, but I wasn’t taking the drugs without a fight. Something on my face must have shown my intentions. She moved to intercept the guard.

  I swung my arm and flung the tray up and over his head. I managed to twist his wrist before she could stop me. Andrea caught my arm and snapped it like a dry twig. My scream of pain echoed into the main room.

  “Shut the door!” she demanded.

  Tweedledee rushed to do her bidding. They didn’t want the workers to hear—I filed the information away. Never knew what detail could come in handy. Plus, thinking in details helped me push the pain away.

  I breathed hard, hissing between my teeth. Tweedledee grinned, even though he cradled his wrist. I wanted to hold my arm, but Andrea grabbed my other arm and put it under lock down. She pulled her phone out of a pocket in her skirt and made a call.

  “We need an arm set.” She paused. “Yes, already. I’m that good. You’d do well to remember it.”

  “Do you ever wear pants? Wait, you were wearing pants when I shot your knee, weren’t you? It must be a façade for the factory workers. Miss boss lady. Or is it easy access for Gene?”

  She slapped me across the face. I tasted blood in my mouth. Yeah, I deserved that one. It was crude, but fucking hell, my arm hurt. I wasn’t about to sit there and pretend I was at a damned tea party.

  “You’ll speak to me with respect at all times. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Crystal. That doesn’t mean I will,” I said, earning me a slap on the other cheek. “You’re fucking holding me captive and you just broke my arm. What the hell do you expect?”

  “I expect your obedience. You’re intelligent. How are your injuries going to help you?”

  “How’s being drugged and turned into a mindless beast going to help me? I told you I didn’t want the drugs.”

  “Funny. It’s like you think you’re in charge or something.” She leaned in close, holding my broken arm, pressing her weight down on it. The pain made me sweat. Fuck. Fuck. Shit.

  She put her mouth to my ear and whispered, “I’m in charge.”

  I really wished she’d just yell. But no, she exerted complete control. Whatever inroads I’d made on her confidence were gone. She’d completely regained her confidence. And I was completely screwed as long as I remained chained to the damn chair.

  I refused to give in to the fear. It helped me face her squarely. Respect flickered in her eyes and it made me feel good. Shit. Hello, Stockholm syndrome. If I kept reminding myself, maybe I could mitigate the effects. Maybe. Would Joseph hurry up already?

  Tweedledee picked up the tray and the syringe, and stood like a waiter at an expensive restaurant waiting to be recognized. It wasn’t long before someone came in carrying a duffle bag with paramedic patches sewn along the sides.

  “You really must be more careful,” he told me, gently probing my arm. “Fractures will weaken you.” Was he for real? I was chained to a metal chair and he wanted me to be careful? What the fuck universe was I in?

  The medic explored my broken arm. As gentle as he was, I couldn’t hold in the scream. Breathing through my mouth again, I fought to control the pain. Tweedledee smirked and it pissed me off.

  “What the fuck you laughing at, Tweedledee? If it wasn’t for your skirt here, I’d have killed you with one hand. I’d keep that smirk to myself if I were you.” Yes, I felt much better. Snarling wasn’t weak. It was strong.

  The medic pulled my arm, aligning the bones. Oh. My. Shit. “Fucking hell,” I yelled when I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  The paramedic jumped back. A look of wariness crossed his face. He looked to Andrea for assurance.

  “She won’t hit you. Or kill you. She wants the use of her arm in the future. Don’t you, Serena?”

  It sounded innocuous on the surface, but I swore she just threatened to make my arm permanently useless if I hit her medic. I looked in her eyes. Yes, she had.

  “I won’t hurt him while I’m in the chair.” I turned to look at him. “Hey there, almost doc. What exactly do you think is happening here?”

  “You’re a prisoner of war. It will go much easier on you if you’ll give them the information they need. You’ll get proper help then, and a trial,” he said, wrapping my arm.

  The pain made me suck in a breath. “You really believe I’m a prisoner of war? That all of this is government sanctioned?” Okay, maybe some of it was, but it was definitely not kosher. Shit.

  He ignored me and continued to bind my arm. Setting aside the wrap, he pulled out a container of white slop-textured goo. He dragged the gauze through the goop before wrapping it around my arm. He was casting the break this time, instead of bracing it like my leg.

  Andrea leaned over his shoulder. “What’re you doing? I told you, I didn’t want casts.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have twisted her arm when you broke it. Even without the right equipment, I can feel it’s not a clean break and will have to stay covered. I’ll be back to check on it after the cast has completely hardened to make sure her fingers are still getting circulation.”

  Oh ho, med boy has balls after all. Problem with keeping secrets, one had to maintain the pretense in front of people like him.

  Andrea’s anger smoldered and her darkened eyes should have fried a hole through the medics back. He ignored her. No doubt she wanted to amuse herself like earlier when she put her weight on my injured arm.

  I looked away before she caught me smirking. The medic looked up at me and winked. He knew he’d pissed her off, and apparently didn’t like her chosen methods of torture. I bit my cheeks to keep from smiling back. Maybe I wouldn’t kill him when I broke free from the chair. I had to remember, some people believed this was a government facility working on the production of a miracle vaccine. They’d probably been told I was bio-terrorist or something.

  Menace filled the room. Andrea looked at me with hatred in her face. I didn’t know if she’d caught my smirk or if she was angry with the interruption of her torturing session, but I knew I’d be the one to pay.

  She stepped back and motioned to Tweedledee. She took the tray from him and sent him out of the room. I hated to consider what they were planning. He looked entirely too happy for my tastes.

  The medic finished the cast and cleaned up the excess gooey stuff. “I’ll be back in about forty-five minutes. Then I’ll have to be by frequently over the next seventy-two hours to make sure the plaster hardens correctly.” He picked up his bag and the empty water bottle he’d used to mix the plaster and left.

  I expected Andrea to start in on me the second he was gone, but she didn’t. She stood there silently. It was nerve wracking. Of course, I had no wish for her to torture me in her current mood, so I stayed silent as well.

  I heard a ticking, like an old fashioned clock marking the seconds. The pressure to say something sassy or pissy built. It was a defense mechanism. I had to remind myself it was better to defend myself by being quiet at the moment. Silence didn’t come easily.

  Finally, Tweedledee returned. He’d brought Tweedledum with him and carried another tray. This time, full of knives. I wished I could get my hands on one. I’d stab him in the eye.

  For the first time since the medic left, Andrea looked at me properly. “Now, I can continue with your lessons. Unfortunately, until the doctor’s visited again, I can’t do too much. You aren’t healing that fast,” she said in a detached way I associated with scientists watching lab rats in a maze.

  She picked up the syringe from the tray she held and handed the tray to Tweedledum, who put it on a shelf behind me. “However, we can begin your conditioning.” She nodded to the two men. They closed in on me. One held my broken arm just above the elbow and the other tilted my head away from that arm.

  I struggled as she came near me, but they had me good unless I ruined my cast. I decided to do just that when she put a hand on my cast. “If you hu
rt yourself worse by struggling, I won’t let the medic replace the cast.”

  Which meant the arm would heal badly and I’d lose the use of it. Maybe permanently. The thought froze me long enough for her to jab the syringe in my shoulder. A chill spread across my skin. The top of my shoulder went numb. The men let go of me, but I was furious.

  I would kill Andrea if it was the last thing I did. Anger helped wash away my last bit of fear. I’d take the pain and turn it to anger. Anytime I felt fear, I’d think of my kids being kidnapped and focus on revenge. As powerful as she was, I would outlast her.

  She walked to Tweedledee and put her arm around him. “Why don’t you get your wrist looked at? Stall him if you can.”

  I narrowed my eyes. So that’s it. Now I knew why she hadn’t given the Tweedle boys their Resurrection Vaccine. In their human state, they couldn’t resist her sexual allure; it was stronger and more addicting than any drug on the street. Even Tweedledum’s breathing changed, and he wasn’t her target.

  Tweedledee’s face became slack with lust. He reached for her. She laughingly brushed his hands away. “Not now. Later. If you’re good, I’ll give you extra.”

  At her last words, I heard Tweedledum behind me whimper. She turned to him and smiled. “You can come too,” she purred. “It’ll be our private party.”

  “Without Gene?” the two asked in unison.

  “Without Gene,” she said and gave Tweedledee a gentle shove. “Now, go and stall the paramedic. I need to see how fast this drug works on our subject.”

  Shit. These two were addicts, hooked on her allure. And like true addicts, they’d do anything for their fix. She was fully aware of their addiction and used it against them—another form of rape. Only instead of a gun, she used her Infected body to bend them to her will.

  She turned to Tweedledee, and the weight of her sexual power shifted our direction. I was hit with a dose of it. Holy fucking hell. The testosterone levels in the room were so strong, my head reeled. It called to my primitive side. I tamped it down with my anger, but that only excited Andrea when she noticed. She pumped up the volume.

  “Darling, Serena. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll beg to be my obedient dog just like everyone else.”

  Not if I could help it. “You mean like Gene? Sorry, sister, but it looks like you’re losing control of him. Maybe you’re getting old?”

  Anger flashed in her eyes and that was all the warning I received. She yanked up my shirt and scratched my abdomen. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. Damn the woman had some nails. She stared into my eyes, giving me a seductive smile.

  “Sorry, Charlie. No tuna for this girl,” I sneered.

  She scowled and stepped aside. “I’ll admit, you’re harder to crack than I expected. Not that it matters. Makes it more fun for me. And the boys. Maybe I’ll let them have a go at you.”

  The heavy breathing behind me became little gasps. He had it bad. I gave off a little sexual power; she’d called it out with her own. Despite my best efforts to tamp down my response, my body still wanted to go on the prowl. Just not with her. Either way, the addict behind me smelled the special pheromones unique to the zombie virus coming from us and he wanted a fix.

  “You won’t. They’re too valuable to you the way they are. If you let me loose for that kind of activity, you know I’ll kill them.” I purposely didn’t say sex. I wasn’t sure how the addict would react. The desperation came off him in waves. Soon, I was afraid I’d get a peep show.

  “And,” I continued. “If you’re stupid enough to do something like that, I’ll never write the story you’re pining to have written.”

  “You’ll write it,” she says confidently. “And you’ll write exactly what I want you to. Of that, I’ve no doubt.”

  And she didn’t. I saw it clearly and it scared me. The drug she’d pumped into me must be something else. I glared at her, but lost it when I couldn’t retain my focus on her. She’d gone blurry and morphed into two people. Wow, she has a doppelganger? I shook my head. Must be one of the side effects of the drug.

  “I see the drug is starting to work. Your vision getting a little fuzzy? Seeing double?” Andrea checked the clock on the wall. “Just over six minutes. Impressive. That’s double the time it takes to work on others we’ve experimented on. You’re unusually strong for someone with the early form of the virus. Then again, maybe it mutated to the Ultimate form.”

  I clenched my teeth. She talked like I was a lab rat, using her false cheery voice. I hated it.

  She walked closer and stroked my cheek gently. Andrea smiled sweetly and said, “Now the real fun begins.”

  Chapter 18

  Deep seated fear pierced my chest and spread like wild fire up and down my body. I shoved her hand away with the cast and leaned back. I half expected her to get angry, but she laughed. Tweedledum put a hand under my chin and held my head back, not letting me relax. With his other hand, he stroked my neck, up to my ear and down to my clavicle.

  I whimpered. My skin’s sensitivity was higher than normal and it felt like a million ants crawled over my skin, racing in a jumbled marathon. He tilted my chin back further and rubbed his hand across my throat.

  Tweedledee’s voice echoed in from just outside the door. “You have to knock before entering an interrogation.”

  I didn’t hear the medics’ response, but Tweedledum let go of me. He stayed behind my chair. I tasted his excitement on my tongue. I blinked to bring Andrea into focus, but my vision remained blurry.

  The medic slammed open the door. “Nice stall tactic,” he said pointedly at Andrea. “But your flunkie here has a minor sprained wrist and it takes a minute to wrap those.” I thought he looked at me. At least, I saw two of his faces.

  Next thing I knew, he held a penlight over my face and propped my eyelids open. I whimpered when the light hit my corneas.

  “What have you done to her,” he demanded of Andrea. “Scratch that. I can see you’ve drugged her. What have you given her?”

  “Something for the pain. She’s not reacting well to it.”

  “I’ll say she’s not.” His voice pulsated with anger. It made me feel slightly better. “Her pupils are nonreactive to light, and she can’t focus. She needs to get to a hospital right now. In the U.S., not here.”

  “That’s not possible at the moment. I’ll watch her and let you know if her condition worsens.”

  “Why isn’t it possible? We have the ambulance available.”

  “It’s not because I say it isn’t. I had a call a minute ago. Robins says there’s someone hurt in the lower fields. You need to take the ambulance and check.”

  My vision started to clear enough to see that both of his faces didn’t like her orders. “Run,” I said, but it came out an unintelligible croak. It did get his attention, though.

  “What’s the matter?”

  He knelt near me and with my broken arm, I pulled his face close to mine, like a lover. I made sure my lips were at the ear opposite Andrea so she couldn’t read them and spoke again.

  “Run. They’ll kill you for standing up to them. Go see Agent Joseph Connelly in the El Paso FBI field office. He’ll help,” I whispered, but my throat still felt like someone on hot ice skates glided up and down my airway.

  “Your wrist still hurts? It’s probably because the medication they gave you isn’t reacting well with the rest of your body. I’ll go make a few phone calls in my office before heading to the lower fields and see if we can get something here for you.”

  He turned to Andrea. “You can tell Robins I’ll be in the lower fields in twenty. If the situation is more serious than that, have him page me and I’ll get there sooner.”

  My head whirled. I hoped what he said was to cover up what I’d told him, but I was too dizzy to know for sure. My head was too heavy for my neck to support.

  I vaguely recalled seeing the medic leave, but things were a blur in my memory. I wasn’t sure how much time passed in that befuddled state. When I came to, Tw
eedledee and Tweedledum were sexually satisfied and the place reeked of sex and fear. I looked down at my clothing. Nothing had changed. More importantly, I didn’t feel like I’d had sex.

  My cheeks hurt like I’d been slapped a few times. Stinging cuts covered my arms and my belly burned. I couldn’t bring myself to look and see if there were more than the scratches she’d given me earlier.

  Andrea stared at me like the cat that ate the canary. “Serena?”

  “What?” My mouth tasted like pissed over cow shit again. What the hell was in that drug?

  “So you’re yourself again. Good. We’ve had fun so far. What do you remember?”

  “About what?” It remained hard to talk. My vision had cleared. It must be a temporary reaction to the drug, but my mouth was dry.

  “About our training session today. We’ve spent hours working on your obedience training, and your triggers. We made good progress. How do you feel?” I was going to scratch her eyes out if she kept using that cheery voice.

  “Like shit on a cracker. How do you think I feel?”

  “I thought maybe you’d want to get in on the action.”

  Bile rose in my throat. I didn’t consciously remember what happened, but my subconscious knew.

  Her laughter offered no comfort. She dismissed her goons. They left, each giving her a long goodbye kiss. I dry heaved again. Whatever I saw while drugged had a powerful effect on my gag reflex.

  She walked behind me to the tray of knives they’d brought in earlier. Andrea chose a long thin surgical knife. I needed to use the restroom and was thirsty as hell. Getting cut seemed more likely. My mind detached emotionally. I watched what happened to me like a film.

  Andrea twisted and turned the knife, making the lights reflect off it like she was mesmerized with the pattern. Maybe she wanted to up the fear factor, but I didn’t feel it. My mind decided it had had enough. She came closer. She’d already broken two of my bones and made me bleed. She’d drugged me and done God knew what else. So what the hell? What was one more cut?