Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set, Vol. 2 [Books 4-7]

by DeGordick, Jeff

  The three of them ate in relative silence, and everyone seemed okay. Sarah could tell that Tommy was worried about Carly, though he barely knew her, and that he was upset that Axel had taken her at all. But Carly genuinely seemed okay after her experience, and it appeared that no harm had come to her. They told her about what they found in the woods and she wanted to add her two cents, but she was just as mystified as they were.

  Sarah discussed with Carly what she was going to do with Macklin's camp now that he was dead, and she knew that she would have to head over there soon before his men got restless and any kind of power struggle occurred once they realized that he wasn't coming back. They also talked about the plan going forward and about how they were going to get more bandits from Durham to assist them in their cause, since that was supposed to be Macklin's job.

  She didn't know why, but Sarah put a lot of stock in Bill. He seemed to be a bit of a mystery, even making her wonder why he was a bandit at all; he certainly had the cagey look like the rest, but there was a certain wisdom and calmness to him that almost made him seem like a transplant from another world of people.

  He wouldn't have even known what happened after he left their company in the wee hours of the morning, but she had a feeling she would be working directly with him a lot more closely now that her only other point of contact was Axel. Axel she would keep at arm's length, and only for as long as necessary, and she certainly wouldn't let Carly or Tommy anywhere near him again. In fact, if she could work out a way with Bill that she didn't even have to see him until their assault, that would be all the better.

  In her last moments of clarity before her fork started slipping out of her lips and she tried to fight against sleep and shove in more food, she thought about what the two soldiers at the building in the woods had said about Bill. They obviously spoke vaguely in a way only one of their kind would understand, but they implied that he and Glass were closer than he'd let on.

  And then in the next moment her head fell down and her cheek hit the sharp tines of her fork. Her head snapped up and her eyes opened wide.

  Carly got off the couch and took the plate away from her. "I think you need some rest," she said.

  Sarah nodded, and on the third nod her head didn't come back up.

  "Can you make sure she gets to bed?" Carly asked Tommy. "I'm going to wash up and then go to bed myself."

  "Yeah, no problem," Tommy replied. He got off the couch too and he helped Sarah up to her feet. She stumbled around like a drunk, bumping into furniture and walls, periodically snapping her head up and muttering something then falling back asleep. But Tommy navigated her deftly around the house to her bedroom and set her down to rest. An underlying sense of pride came to him, and he realized that he was honored to take care of her, feeling like he was paying her back for saving him from a life of misery with the bandits.

  Carly stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. They kept a bucket of water and a few rags in there for washing up, and she began to remove her clothes. Her ribcage ached as she pulled her shirt over her head, and she turned and looked at her torso in the mirror. Her ribs on the left side were bruised quite badly. She ran her fingertips lightly over the area, feeling pain ripple across them. More pain shot through her like a knife as she reached behind to unhook her bra. She inadvertently let out a cry and immediately stifled it as her eyes widened in horror. She stared at the door and listened, but she didn't hear anything in the house and she didn't think anyone was close enough to have overheard.

  She turned back to the mirror and pulled her bra off, almost cringing at what she was going to see. More bruising surrounded her left nipple and the nipple itself felt like it was on fire, finally relieved that nothing was chafing against it anymore. It ached so badly that Carly wanted to cry, but she held it together. Almost the entire area of skin stretching across her other breast looked a little discolored with minor bruising, but it felt okay.

  Carly unbuttoned her black jeans next and bent forward to pull them down. When they were by her ankles, she glanced down and looked at her panties.

  "Oh no," she whispered.

  The front of them were soaked red. She grabbed one of the rags sitting against the tub and carefully removed her underwear. She dipped the rag in the bucket of water and gingerly patted it against herself. The pain was horrible and this time she couldn't stop tears from running down her face.

  She squatted over a second bucket they kept and urinated into it, feeling the desperate need to cleanse herself. The pain was excruciating and she had to bite down on her wrist to stop from yelling.

  When she was done, she stepped into the bathtub, shaking, the cool feeling of the ceramic against her bare feet the only nice thing that she felt in that moment. She took the other rag and used it to wash her body, going slowly when she got to any bruising or cuts. She turned and saw her back in the mirror and the welts and bruising sitting over top of her kidneys, and she had to turn away in revulsion. The whole thing became overwhelming to her and soon she crouched down and hugged her knees, crying silently.

  Eventually she composed herself and tried to wash up quickly so as not to arouse any suspicion. When she finished, she began to dress herself. She put on her jeans first and then she began to tidy up, taking her soiled panties and placing it on the bloody rag. When she grabbed them, she realized that she had accidentally thrown it on top of her shirt when she piled her clothes on the floor, and now the olive t-shirt had a very pronounced splotch of red on it.

  Carly had a small panic attack. She was terrified that she wouldn't be able to clean up everything, that someone would figure out what happened to her. She bunched up her shirt with the rag and underwear, and she put her bra back on, as painful as it was. She left everything else as she tucked the bundle of soiled garments under her arm and slowly opened the bathroom door. She poked her head out into the hallway to ensure the coast was clear, then she made her way toward her bedroom. Sarah's was on the way and she stopped and surreptitiously peaked in, but found her facedown and passed out on her bed. Carly quickly continued on for the next room down the hallway, reaching out and pushing open the door.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," Tommy muttered from behind her.

  Carly spun around and saw him standing at the end of the hallway. She stood awkwardly in the threshold of the doorway, and she quickly tossed the clothes under her arm into the room so he wouldn't see them. But his mouth hung agape as he saw the marks on her torso. "It's okay," she said quickly and then she hurried into the room, shutting the door behind her.

  Tommy barged in a moment later as she struggled to get a fresh shirt from the closet over her head.

  "Hey!" she cried. "What are you doing?!" She backed away from him and he just stood there in the doorway staring at her.

  "What did he do to you?" Tommy asked. His voice was frightening, like there was an underlying tone of violence to it.

  Carly hesitated for a moment, then she said, "Shut the door. Shut the door and I'll tell you."

  Tommy complied and he sat with her on her bed. "It was Axel, wasn't it?"

  Carly nodded.

  "Was it just him?"

  She nodded.

  "You can tell me," he said.

  "I swear, I'm not lying to you!" she urged quietly. "It was just him. Come on, I think the cat's already out of the bag. I would tell you if anyone else did something, but he uh... he kept me all to himself." Her lip started quivering and she broke down crying again.

  Tommy pulled her in and she wept on his shoulder as he stared at the wall behind her and felt rage bubbling up inside of him. It felt strange holding her like this, considering that she was probably twice his age, but in a way it felt like he was holding his older sister in his arms. The memories of what Axel had made him do to his own sister haunted him and he bit down on his lip so hard it bled.

  "I'm going to kill him," he said calmly. The anger shifted and moved through his entire body like a hurricane, but on the surface he was deadly calm.
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  Carly looked up with red eyes. "Don't talk like that," she said. "I don't need anyone to protect me. Just... please don't tell Sarah."

  When he continued to stare blankly at the wall, she physically turned his head toward hers and made him promise that he wouldn't tell Sarah.

  He promised.

  The three of them all got to sleep at various points throughout the day, and they were up and about at their own paces, but they all stayed inside. Tommy was better rested than the other two, so he took care of things like making sure they got fed and had enough to drink, but Sarah and Carly were both pretty zonked out.

  The whole day had passed by and the sky turned to night. Sarah arose from another hour-long nap and sauntered around the kitchen, trying to find something to nibble on. She was almost upset with herself at how out of it she felt, but she knew she had a long day. She came back to the living room after finding nothing in the kitchen, and she looked at Carly who was gently resting and drifting in and out of sleep on the couch. Tommy had taken care of the important things for them that day and she was grateful for the help.

  But now that Tommy had crossed her mind, she realized that she hadn't seen him lately. She walked around the house, poking her head in and out of rooms and searching for him, but he was nowhere to be found. She came back to the living room and woke Carly.

  "Have you seen Tommy?" she asked.

  Carly's eyes blinked open groggily and she took a moment to get her bearings. "No, why?"

  "He's not here."

  Carly's heart jumped. "Oh God."

  "What?"

  Carly looked at Sarah nervously. She hesitated, but she knew that telling her was the right decision given the circumstances. "I have something to tell you. Promise not to be mad, okay?"

  "I'm not promising anything, what is it?" Sarah demanded.

  Carly was scared, but she pressed on. "I lied when I said Axel didn't do anything to me."

  Sarah just stared at her.

  "Don't look at me like that," Carly pleaded. "Please, I'm going through enough shit on my own, you know? I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to think I was weak."

  But Sarah didn't have time for niceties at that moment. "What did he do to you?" When Carly paused on her words, Sarah skipped the question and asked, "How bad is it?"

  "Pretty bad, I guess," Carly replied, still nervous and unable to judge exactly what Sarah was thinking. "This has never happened to me before, so I don't have anything to compare it to. But fuck, it hurts so bad." She paused, unsure of the next words she was going to say. "Can you... can you hold me?" She didn't know how to say it any other way and she wasn't sure how it came out. In that moment, she just felt an undeniable urge to be held by a pair of strong arms and feel the comfort of another human being's company. But in this case, even one arm would do.

  But Sarah just asked, "Where's Tommy?"

  Carly didn't want to answer, knowing that Sarah would leave as soon as she said the words. But she knew she didn't have a choice. "I told him what happened," she said quietly.

  Sarah immediately crossed the room and armed herself. "Son of a bitch. He's going to get himself killed." And with that, she rushed out the front door.

  Carly sighed, then got up and followed her.

  10

  Prisoner Swap

  "Didn't think I'd see you back here, boy."

  Tommy tried to look Axel in the eye, but even after all that happened he couldn't help but divert his gaze.

  "What'sa matter?" Axel asked. "Thought that bitch wanted to take you off our hands? Well go stand watch at a post while I get some sleep, you little shit stain! I don't want to see your sorry face again until the morning." Axel worked up the phlegm in his throat and spit it on the ground by Tommy's feet.

  "Yes boss," Tommy muttered. His fists clenched tightly and he quickly turned and walked away before his hand was shown.

  Axel disappeared into his tent and Tommy took up a post next to an empty chair sitting at the guardrail overlooking the grassy field below. He stood around uncomfortably and he saw the other few remaining bandits left for guard duty giving him sour looks, then turning their gazes away and going back to their business.

  His heart hammered a thousand times a minute as far as he could tell. His hands were clammy and he felt a bead of sweat running down his forehead even though the night was only a little warm. He turned and glanced around him at the other bandits when he could without arousing suspicion, and he did a headcount. He recorded each one's exact location in his mind and he surreptitiously watched a couple men who sauntered around near Axel's tent, watching to see when they moved away.

  When no one was looking at him he lowered his head and slid his fingers into his pocket. He pulled up the very edge of the switchblade just so he could see it and confirm it was still there for the hundredth time.

  The moon was full tonight and seemed to be directly above his head, like it was looking down on him and blessing him or urging him to do what he had to. He didn't really know what it meant, but as the warm breeze rolled by the bridge and tickled his skin and flaky wisps of cloud lazily dragged themselves across the sky, he was filled with a sense of finality, like everything was counting down to a single culminating moment.

  Tommy sat down in the chair and waited. He waited until even the guards on skeleton crew yawned and started to doze off a little. Then when the coast was clear, he quietly stood up and snuck over to Axel's tent.

  He crouched down outside the front flaps and looked over his shoulder. He heard snoring from inside and knew that Axel was fast asleep. He gingerly clasped the zipper between his forefinger and thumb and unzipped the tent at an excruciatingly slow speed. When it was halfway up, he crawled inside and rose to his feet.

  Axel lay on a wide cot with his portly belly pointed up to the ceiling and his arms wrapped across each other over his chest. His mouth hung open as his throat reverberated with thunderous snores, occasionally snoring so loudly that he disturbed his own sleep and unconsciously fidgeted around before continuing.

  Tommy crept over to him without a sound and stood right by his side, waiting to see if he would stir. When he didn't, Tommy slid the switchblade out of his pocket. His entire body was shaking and he tried to quiet his heavy breathing. The rage he felt was a black and horrible thing, but still even greater than that was his sense of fear.

  He pressed the release on the switchblade with his thumb and then the sharp steel sprang out the end of it with a little sound. He paused for a long time, struck by a surreal feeling, as he couldn't believe that he was actually standing there about to do what he was about to do.

  With a sharp intake of breath, he stepped forward and thrust the knife at his throat.

  Axel's eyes shot open and his arm flung upward. Like a flash of lightning, he caught Tommy by the wrist and diverted the blade before it sunk into his skin. His head slowly turned like a creepy owl until his crazed eyes were firmly set on Tommy's. His lips widened into a terrifying grin, part triumph and part insanity.

  Tommy tried to yank his arm away, but Axel's grip was too strong, to the point of feeling like he was going to crush his bones. And then Axel leapt up off his cot and was standing toe-to-toe with him, that twisted, delirious face and foul breath right in his.

  "You think I'm stupid, boy?" he said. Then he pulled the switchblade away from Tommy with his other hand and led him out of the tent. He threw him onto the ground and prowled around him in a semicircle, holding the blade by his side. Tommy cowered in fear as he looked up at him, pleading in his eyes.

  But Axel just grinned as he sized Tommy up and down, wondering what he was going to do with him. "Why you wanna kill me, boy?" Axel asked, holding his arms out to his sides in a peaceful gesture. "What did I ever do to you?"

  Tommy wanted to answer him, to shout it out and make him cower the way Sarah did, but his throat seized up in fear and he couldn't choke out a single word.

  "No matter," Axel said. "But now... I'm gonna make you h
urt."

  Tommy's teeth chattered as Axel approached him, and he tried to scoot backward on the ground.

  The other bandits who were on watch for the night began to come over and take a look at what was going on. Some who were sleeping even started to come out of their tents to catch a piece of the action.

  Tommy held out his hand. "P-Please, don't!" he cried at last.

  Axel knocked his arm away and drove the switchblade under his ribs. Tommy shrieked and Axel retracted the blade and stuck him again. He writhed around on the ground and tried to get away from Axel, then Axel held the blade up, glistening in his blood, and stabbed him over and over in various parts of his torso and legs.

  Blood poured out of him and turned his clothes into a red mess. Splotches of red stained the asphalt as he rolled around, and then he curled up and started convulsing.

  Axel tossed the switchblade away and stared down at his sorry shape. The other bandits gathering around began to cheer and holler, many urging Axel to kill Tommy and do various nasty things to him beforehand. He stepped forward and rammed his foot into Tommy's ribs. Tommy let out a loud and pained grunt then continued to shake. Axel bent down and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up until he was sitting on his ass. He squeezed his throat, more to hold onto him than anything, then he drove his fist into his face. Tommy's head rocked back as his eyelids drooped and he began to fade. His nose was busted and his cheek was cut. Axel hit him again, and again, and again. Three teeth dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin like kernels of corn from a tired baby.