His only regret was that he had not been able to witness the destruction for himself. He had longed to stay, to see the sweet slush of gore that was sure to appear, but he needed to set up for Act 2. The sound of the explosion was guaranteed to draw crowds of more dead, and if they were left to their own devices, they would descend on the building with violent intent.
He couldn’t allow that, of course. If the rotters were allowed to find his audience, they’d slaughter them. Worse than that, they wouldn’t even appreciate the kill. His new survivor toys were worth more than a meaningless butchering. When it was time for them to die, it would be a good show. An event that he could truly savor, something to take pride in.
If he wanted to have that chance he needed to create a distraction, and so he had set about luring the coming hordes away. It had taken time, but he was confident his prey would need to recover from the detonation. If they were half as capable as he believed, they’d make their move to leave once the street was clear, likely heading straight for the military outpost that was nearby.
He had predicted their movements to a T, at least for a time. Every path they took had been accounted for, every action expected. It had been thrilling to experience, and even the memory brought a rush to his heart. There was nothing he loved more than playing a game of cat and mouse, but he had been wrong, in the end. They had gotten the better of him. It was in that moment that he felt true exhilaration.
Everything had been going according to his plan, at first. His playmates had escaped the apartment building and made their way toward the outpost just as he expected. Watching them scurry had been an entertaining diversion, but he was impatient. Observing was not as fun as participating, and he had many ways to play all ready for him.
First came the surprise of sudden company. He had a small group of undead set aside for just such an occasion, and removing the crossbar on their cage had allowed them to break through and into the street. He wasn’t impressed with how quickly his playthings had escaped his trap; he knew they were capable already. The real fun would come next.
He had watched them pass the car in the street, marking their distance until they were right where he wanted them. A click on his keychain brought the vehicle to life, and he counted to three. He did want to play fair, after all, and a warning was only courteous. Then he let the alarm scream.
They ducked into the only alley available, primed for his next surprise. All like clockwork, and he had felt a burst of anticipation. How far would they make it? What trap would be their downfall? It was only a matter of time, but he had high hopes for these mice.
They were smarter than the others, more willing to do what must be done in order to survive. They might even make it to the sewer gauntlet, a feat that had yet to be accomplished by any others.
Then, things began to change. He heard the alarm that signaled his window had been taken, but before he could rush to the next trap, there came a sudden bright light. He couldn’t see into the alcove from his position, unable to understand what was happening, but his heart had begun pounding. All he knew was that this was not something he had anticipated, and that uncertainty brought with it equal parts rage and elation.
It wasn’t until the explosion echoed through the building that he had felt his hopes sink. He’d known it was a possibility that they wouldn’t notice his tripwire, but he had expected more of them than that. Sullen, he made his way toward the building only to dive down behind cover as all of his guests came running around the corner, completely unharmed.
A giddy squeal of joy had escaped his lips before he could choke it back down, and he flinched as the young woman he had taken such a liking to reacted. She had heard him, of that he was certain, but the pressing nature of her situation had kept her from investigating further. It was the first time in a very long while since he had ever been that close to getting caught, and the swell of emotion that accompanied this revelation was nearly overwhelming.
To add salt to the wound, he had no more tricks prepared. He had possessed absolute confidence in his ability, and was certain that no one would be able to avoid his carefully planned detours. They hadn’t just confounded him once; they had beaten him entirely.
Abruptly, the memories became too painful for him to recall. Everything that came after that moment of defeat was a blur of rage and gore, his sad attempts at reasserting his dominance via butchering the undead serving only to make him feel more pathetic. The zombies were meaningless. He needed to get to his quarry in the outpost, but his orders were clear: he was to stay put outside and continue his work.
They were his! They had escaped him, proved to be the best prey he had ever had, and now they were out of reach because of what? Some weak, meaningless, mewling little fuck with a shiny medal and fancy clothes said so?
He had accepted his invitation to this little society of theirs because they had promised things like that wouldn’t be an issue anymore. They were falling through on their end of the deal, so maybe… maybe it was time he fell through on his. A slow smile found its way back to his face, and the rush of anger that had been causing him such trouble began to subside.
The outpost would provide a different game. Daggers in the dark, and an opportunity for him to do the killing for himself. An even better plan than his first. As he started to collect himself, he even suspected he could find a replacement for his good clothes that had been sullied. Better. Much better. Let those pricks try and stop me. No one can tell me what to do; I am the alpha. I am the apex predator. Superior.
In the span of less than a minute, he had gone from fuming rage to giggling joy. Some part of him found that deeply amusing, though he wasn’t sure why. In a haze of impulsive laughter, he dismissed the thought from his mind and instead began to plan.
He’d pose as a refugee and head out in three days. Enough time would have passed by then that no one would connect him to the havoc that had transpired this night. His fingers tensed reflexively as he considered the possibility that he’d need to hunt them down again once he was inside. Another wave of elation rolled over him, and he gave a visible shudder of delight. He was going to have so much fun.
The only obstacle left was looking the part. There was a broken mirror stashed away in the corner of his hideout that he’d need to dig up, and he’d need to dirty himself if he wanted to pass as another ragged, desperate soul just looking for safety.
Frankly, he couldn’t fathom how anyone could believe he was that pathetic, even in costume. If nothing else, it was either a testament to his acting ability or a reminder that his audience truly was comprised of lesser creatures. A cruel smirk curved his lips into a twisted grimace, a hint of unstable laughter caught burbling in his chest.
He was practically bouncing with anticipation as he moved to retrieve the items necessary for his disguise. After setting aside a half dozen of his most prized mementos, his hands seized on what felt like a jagged piece of glass. With a bark of triumph, he removed his mirror from the pack and placed it ceremoniously on a nearby table for his viewing pleasure.
The man who looked back at him from within it was more handsome than he’d remembered. He had sharp features, his cheeks and jawline pronounced and noble. Even his eyes, a rich shade of brown, burned with a passion and intelligence that gave him shivers. Everything about him was perfect, right down to the carefully placed lock of long blonde hair that was draped over his ivory skin. A deep sigh of contentment billowed from his mouth.
This would be harder than he’d expected, but he was nothing if not committed to his art. His features would need to be downplayed if he wanted to pass into the outpost without much notice. As much as he despised anything that would take away from his pristine appearance, this was the sacrifice he was willing to make for his performance.
Dirt and grime were easily accessible, and his knife would suit him well enough for an impromptu haircut. The only thing he’d need to retrieve would be suitably filthy clothing, and there was an ample supply of that available at
every turn.
For all of his excitement at the coming events, there was a part of him, buried and far off in the back of his mind, that was afraid. He was going to be going against his orders, and there were strict repercussions for doing such a thing. But then, that was assuming they might be able to find out what he had done. He knew there were moles inside the outpost, but he should be able to go unnoticed by them.
A bead of sweat trickled down his neck, and he realized how clammy his skin was. Being tense, especially on the eve of such a magnificent undertaking, was simply not acceptable. Returning to his evening project was a viable option once more, now that he had at least managed to calm his shaking hands, and it would likely take the edge off of his nerves.
The rest of his prep work could wait until morning. For now, he would relax and enjoy his playtime. Reaching down to retrieve his knife, he began to whistle a merry tune as he returned his attention to the corpse in front of him.
He had managed to remove nearly half of her face before his anger had forced him to stop. He didn’t want to scar the flesh, and unstable knife-work made that a very real risk. It wouldn’t do to harm such a wonder. She had been lovely to behold, as near a match to his own splendor as could be expected, and he had decided to keep her.
Once again, he pictured the girl he had first spied at the apartment, who had nearly discovered him in the street during her escape. She wasn’t as beautiful as his current specimen, but ooh, she was impressive enough to earn her place with him, regardless. A thin line of drool cascaded from his mouth to spatter across his shirt, though he was too immersed in the thought to notice.
Sawing neatly back and forth through his newest pet, his mind was lost in a haze of hedonistic pleasure. He was going to have a new acquisition soon, no matter what his supposed masters had to say. They didn’t control him; no one did. The world was his for the taking, and he was going to prove it in three days’ time. Three short days, and he’d reclaim the prey that was rightfully his.
Natalie awoke to the persistent hum of human activity, still surrounded by sleeping bodies. To her surprise, she noticed that her immediate neighbors had changed sometime during the night, and BJ was nowhere to be seen. That she had managed to sleep through people moving so near to her was unexpected.
Laying in her sleeping bag, she took a moment to relax. Waking up in a fit and ready for a fight had almost become a part of her morning routine. Actually getting a good night’s sleep was something she’d come to view as a fairy-tale. But hey, here I am! Calm and refreshed, ready to see what impossible nonsense I’ll have to deal with today.
A twinge of anxiety dampened her mood. She had meant to make a joke, but the reality of her statement settled in before she had finished. Just because she was behind fortified walls didn’t mean life was all sunshine and kittens. She’d need to check on her job assignment, and if the growling in her stomach was any indicator, she’d need to find some food as well.
She had supplies in her pack, but she had come to consider those as being for emergencies only. The thought of her backpack jolted Natalie upright, hunting for her gear. Had she set it down somewhere? Or… no, BJ had taken it from her as she bedded down. A quick sheepish glance around her revealed that no one had seen her sudden panic, or if they had, that nobody cared.
Having been startled from her lounging and with the day’s work ahead of her, Natalie tore open her sleeping bag and began to pack it up when she noticed a note tucked into the folds. She suspected that it was from BJ, and a quick glance at the signature confirmed it.
Natalie,
Had to handle your security clearance into outpost. With the issue at checkpoint, your registration wasn’t submitted. Would have caused problems with your assignment. Took your gear too, moved to safe place while you sleep. Thieves everywhere around here. Left your pistol, no ammo boxes, hid it under foot of your bedroll. Hide it tight, and do not draw unless absolutely necessary. You’re not supposed to have a gun in here. Stay safe.
BJ
Natalie had to re-read the note a handful of times before she set it down with a sigh. Thank you, BJ, for casually leaving me with serious contraband. Very good. I need to be caught smuggling weapons on my first day.
She knew his intentions were good, but her nerves were instantly put on edge. Sure enough, a brief pat at the base of her sleeping mat revealed a conspicuous lump that could only be her handgun. Casually as she could muster, she scooped it up into her jacket while folding up the rest of her bedding. Once it was safely inside an inner pocket, she finished her packing and took a deep breath.
This is never going to work. I am so screwed. The hunk of metal in her coat felt impossibly heavy. If anyone caught her with it, the ramifications wouldn’t be pretty. She briefly considered abandoning it, but the idea of being without a weapon struck her as being just as problematic. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Natalie shook her head.
Better to stay armed. Besides, unless the guards suddenly take to roaming the streets, it isn’t like I’m going to get searched. Just keep it out of sight. Easy. Natalie had to stop herself from jamming the gun deeper into her coat, painfully aware that the outline would be visible to anyone passing by if she pressed too hard. Her confidence waned.
After another handful of awkward seconds passed by, during which she was certain she looked very strange to everyone around her, she set her jaw and forced herself to relax. Anything else. Just do anything else. The growling in her stomach reasserted itself, and she nodded in determination. Food it is. Wherever food actually is around here…
The prospect of having to find her way through the camp on her own made her skin prickle, especially now that she was technically smuggling illicit goods. Natalie had never been comfortable around groups of people, and the outbreak had done nothing to improve her fears. At least the zombies were predictable; there was no telling what humans would do until it was too late.
Forcing her feet to move, Natalie stepped outside of the sleeping quarters. The sun was up and shining merrily, but as cheery as the day was, the scene it revealed was anything but joyful. The streets had become even more crowded, and with the world outside now brightly illuminated, every miserable detail was put on display.
From the throngs of refugees barely containing their fear and anger at the situation they found themselves in, to the guards watching them from above with cold eyes, the outpost was a despondent mess. Even so, they all knew the truth of the matter: inside was better than outside. They just had to sit tight and wait it out.
Natalie briefly wondered how long they could dangle that carrot in front of these people before impatience overtook them. It didn’t take a genius to see that the only thing holding a riot at bay was the hope that they’d all be free to return to their lives soon. As convincing as the soldiers’ presence was, Natalie couldn’t help but believe that desperation would eventually be enough to outweigh fear.
Her musings were cut short by a sudden multi-colored flash of movement heading in her direction. As usual, Natalie’s grip on her weapon hardened as she prepared to deal with this new attacker. She froze just short of tearing her pistol out of her pocket, remembering what BJ had said about drawing her gun, and it was good that she did.
Natalie’s “attacker” was a man maybe a year or two younger than she was, and what she had mistaken for aggression was only excitement. He was beaming at her from underneath a worn yellow beanie, and his jacket was so offensively bright orange that Natalie had to shield her eyes. He was waving at her almost frantically, though his eagerness slowed as he noticed her discomfort.
“Hi there! I’m Stephen.” He quickly extended his hand for a handshake, everything about his attitude seeming to suggest that he had been expecting her. Natalie furrowed her brow, considering the possibility that he may have been sent by the assignment office. Would BJ have told them where I was? Slowly, her eyes dropped to his outstretched hand, then back up to his face.
He had a poorly shaven stubble of a bear
d, complete with numerous nicks and cuts that suggested he had no idea how to use a razor. He was grinning at her, though it had started to fade into an awkward smile as she remained silent. The longer she went without a response, the more uncomfortable he looked. Finally, Natalie nodded her head slowly.
“Hi, Stephen. Was there something you needed?” Realizing that she had no intention of taking his hand, Stephen retracted his offer to shake with the slightest hint of red flushing his cheeks. Natalie recognized that her actions might be considered rude, but it wasn’t worth taking risks just to be polite. For his part, Stephen seemed content to let it go, instead clearing his throat nervously.
“Ah, no, actually!” He flashed another smile, but as Natalie continued to appear unimpressed, he quickly continued. “I usually hang out here, outside the sleeping area. Well, this sleeping area, anyway.” He nodded his head as he spoke, as if confirming his words for himself, before noticing that Natalie now looked more uncertain of him than ever. Revealing that he casually wandered the place where people slept had not done wonders to improve her impression of the man.
Now, the subtle blush on his face erupted. His eyes widened for a brief moment as his mouth went slack, the realization of what he had implied suddenly dawning on him. Immediately he tried to stammer out an explanation, but his embarrassment refused to cooperate. At a loss for words, his hands began making rapid movements as if to help him convey his message. The whole sight drew a reflexive laugh from Natalie.
Hearing her chuckle, Stephen slowed down and heaved a sigh. He brought one hand to his face in flustered defeat, weakly trying to cover up his dismay. His cheeks were still shining red as he managed to regain enough composure to force an exasperated smile.
“Hooray, I made you laugh, and I did it one hundred percent on purpose, too.” He shook his head then, he and Natalie both knowing full well that nothing he had done had been intentional.
The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire Page 17