by Gayle Katz
As I roll a couple more times, I get sand in my mouth and I hit my head on the gravel. When the inertia my body stole from the Jeep eventually gives out, I just lie there for a couple seconds until I process what’s happening. I look up, hold my head, and scan the area. Some of the zombies Damar ran through are now following me. Some of them are still running after the Jeep as he speeds off with the zombie still on the hood.
Chapter 17
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I manage to get to my feet and I stumble toward the building. Running toward my destination, I spot blood on my hand. It’s then that I feel my head throbbing from my injuries. Ignore the pain. Keep moving.
As I get closer, I can better see the sharpshooters stationed around the perimeter of the structure. Their guns are pointed at me.
“Don’t shoot! Help me. Please help me!” I yell, raising my hands in the air.
No response.
“They’re gonna get me. Please!”
I hear loud popping sounds. Scared and nervous, I stop in my tracks and look back over my shoulder. Some of the zombies closest to me fall down. I start running again to the front door of the building.
I see some of the men move from their positions. I run as fast as I can manage. The door opens. I sprint inside. The doors close. Safe inside, I hear more guns exploding with bullets.
I stop running and try to catch my breath. I collapse on the ground, face down. A few of the men come up to me. One of them grabs me and flips me over. I look up at the crowd forming around me. They don’t look like they’re in the mood to talk. I try to crawl away from them crab style. I need to put on a good act, but I’m scared. That’s no act. I flip over so I can crawl faster, but I can feel them staring at me. I hear them say something in another language that I don’t recognize or understand. Trying to keep my heart from exploding out of my chest, I stop crawling and turn around to face the men.
“Do any of you speak English?” I ask, on my knees.
“Yes. No more zombies,” one of the men says.
“That’s good. Thank you.”
“Are you going to turn into one of them?”
“No.”
“But you’re bleeding. Explain please.”
“A man threw me out of his car. I hit my head on the ground. Can you help me?”
“No. Anyone who comes must see the leader.”
“The leader?”
“Yes. On your feet!” another of the men says as he grabs me by my ripped shirt collar.
As he’s manhandling me, I can see his eyes look me up and down, smiling for just a moment when he sees my bare skin peek out from under my torn clothing. Maybe my plan is working. Maybe I won’t die today after all. Maybe.
Two of the men walk me down a grimy, dimly lit hallway. I can feel the barrel of a gun poke me in the back every so often.
“Hands up!” I hear the first man shout. I raise my hands above my head.
Down the hallway, there’s a pair of doors that slowly open as we approach. As I step inside the room, it’s pitch-black. I can’t see anything, except for the light from the hallway shining on my back and then it’s gone. There’s nothing. I’m alone in the darkness.
“Why are you here?” a man’s voice breaks the nothingness.
“Hello? Who are you?”
“Answer the question.”
“I was traveling with a man I met. We started to fight. He pushed me out of his car. Zombies were chasing me. I needed somewhere safe to hide.”
“Who is this man?”
“I don’t know. I was lost, and I needed a ride.”
“Do you know what we do here?”
“No. All I know is you have guns to shoot zombies. Thank you for helping me.”
“You’re welcome. At least you’re polite. It looks like you’ve been though a lot.” I hear his voice coming from every corner of the room.
“Yeah, I have,” my voice shakes.
Lights come on, but they’re dim. I look up to see the man who had been speaking circling me. He has short black hair that’s starting to go gray, five o’clock shadow, brown eyes, and tan skin that reminds me of Damar, except for the facial hair. “Come,” he says as he takes me by the hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
We exit the room through another door and walk down a corridor. I’m looking forward in order to get a sense of my surroundings, but I can feel the man’s eyes on me. I glance over and he’s definitely staring at me. He’s not even trying to hide it. Maybe Damar was right. Maybe coming here was a bad idea.
We approach another room, and he opens the door. This room is a sharp contrast to the other one. It’s brightly lit and has almost all the comforts of home, comfy-looking sofa, flat screen TV, and fresh flowers. We walk inside and he leads me to the bathroom. The bathroom is large, but there’s no delineation between the shower, the sink, and the toilet.
Standing there on the tile floor, he says, “You can shower here.”
“OK. Thank you,” I say, standing there, hoping he’s going to leave.
“But first we need to make sure none of those monsters roaming around out there bit you,” he continues.
“I told you they didn’t.”
“I need proof.”
“Proof?”
“Yes. Proof. Take off your clothes. We can’t compromise our secure facility because of your entitled sense of modesty.”
I have no choice but to comply with his order. If I’m going to ingratiate myself with these people, I have to follow his rules and do as he says. I take off my torn shirt, and toss it on the floor. I start to unzip my pants, pull them down to my feet, and slip them off.
“This should be good enough,” I say as I twirl around letting him look at me.
“More,” he instructs.
“More?”
“Yes.”
Continuing my act, I start to tear up as I remove my underwear. He’s probably just a dirty, old man looking for a cheap thrill. In the past, I may have been modest and squeamish, but ever since I was infected, poked, prodded, and cured of the zombie plague, those days are long gone.
“Hands up,” he commands.
I put my hands up as this strange man gets closer to my naked body. Inspecting every curve, I can feel his hot breath against my skin. I feel sick to my stomach. And then I think about why I’m putting myself through this hell. For Jack. Only for him. For a moment, I’m not even there. I’m with Jack.
I snap back to reality when he pokes the bite mark scar on my arm.
“You are a zombie in disguise? Liar!”
“No. I’m not a liar. That was a long time ago. I’m human. I’m not a zombie. I received treatment.”
“We’ll see about that. Now clean up,” he says as he turns on the shower. The water blasts me in the face. “I’ll have food sent. If you’re not a zombie, you’ll be hungry…for human food.”
“Thank you,” I say as graciously as possible, backing away from the water pounding me in the face.
He walks out of the bathroom without saying another word.
I watch the water hit the floor, soak my dirty clothes, and run to the drain in the middle of the room. Not allowing myself to think too much about the predicament I’m in, I take the opportunity to scrub off today’s dirt, grime, and blood. I close my eyes and let the water run down my body. The water feels good, even relaxing. Ten minutes later, I turn off the shower, grab a towel, pick up my dirty clothes, and make my way back to the main room. I didn’t notice before, but the floor is nothing more than a concrete slab so I lay my old clothes on the floor to let them dry.
As I stand up, I see new, clean clothes have been laid out on the bed. Not just any clothes, but a beautiful black dress with ornate beading. Next to the dress, there’s food. Two plates of it! In contrast to the single piece of torn bread I ate earlier with Damar, this is a hearty meal that’ll fill my belly. There’s also a hot cup of tea. The dress is much too pretty to get dirty, but I’m naked and my old clothe
s are still dirty and soaking wet. I have no choice but to put on the dress and then chow down.
I grab a piece of what looks like meat pizza and stuff it into my face. Running around in this part of the world is tiring and I’m ravenous, especially from the sweltering heat. I take another piece and pace myself this time. It’s difficult not to gobble it down all at once since I don’t know when I’m going to eat again.
After I finish the second slice of pizza, I poke the sweet, bready substance on the second plate. It’s sticky and has a variety of nuts sprinkled on top. I break off a piece and sample it. Mmmm. It’s delicious. I pop a couple of them in my mouth and savor the sweetness. Next, I pick up the tea and drink it down. I guess this adventure isn’t too bad, except for the part where someone kidnaps my husband, I run into zombies, and I’m probably going to be held hostage by some cartel.
After drinking most of the tea, I listen to my stomach digest the foreign cuisine. It rumbles a little, but nothing crazy. I try to relax and give my stomach time to do its work. I stand up and look down at the dress. It’s gorgeous. There’s no mirror in the room so I don’t know how I look, but I twirl around anyway. It helps me forget what’s happening and I can just focus on me in a beautiful dress. It doesn’t matter really. At this point, I need to start exploring and find what I came here to get. Jack’s life depends on it.
I go to the door and turn the doorknob. It doesn’t move. The door is locked. How am I going to get out of here? I scan the room for other means of escape. There are a few small windows in the room that I may have been able to squeeze through, but they have bars so that’s not going to work. Plus, I can’t leave yet. I still need to get what I came here for.
I turn around, sit on the bed, and wait. Someone has to come through that door eventually. Getting tired, I lie down. After what feels like thirty minutes later, while staring at the cement ceiling, my stomach is acting up a little more now. Pain is resonating through my gut. I get up and run to the bathroom, but I’m bent over from the pain. I didn’t notice before, but the toilet is at floor level. Immediately, I squat down and my bowels let loose. I’m sweating and, after a few minutes of squatting, my legs are burning. I reach my hands out in front of me in order to balance myself and wait for round two to come and go.
I wipe, get up, and drag myself to the bed. I’m sweaty, exhausted, and feel downright disgusting. Maybe it was the water I ingested from the shower making me sick or maybe the food was a shock to my system. Whatever is making me feel ill might also be making me sleepy. I fight the wave of sleep rapidly approaching for a minute or two, but I’m not going to win this one.
Chapter 18
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I open my eyes, realize where I am, and sigh as I begin to comprehend this nightmare that’s my life right now. When I wake up, I see the same man who led me to this room staring at me.
I try to sit up, but it’s difficult to move. I look over at my right arm and it’s handcuffed to the bedpost. The same is true for my left arm. “Why did you do this?” I continue to yank at my restraints.
“You’re just going to tire yourself out if you keep doing that,” the man replies.
“I don’t understand. Why do this at all?”
“We have to be sure you’re not one of them.”
“I told you I’m not.”
“We just need to observe you for a little while longer. In some cases it takes a few days for the change to happen.”
Upset and missing Jack, I stare back at him. “Who are you?”
“My name doesn’t matter. What matters is why you’re out here. We don’t get many visitors out here so I’m curious what brought you to us.” He steps closer, reaches out, and brushes my hair away from my eyes. “You’re sweating?” he asks, as he steps away.
“Yes, something I ate doesn’t agree with me. It’s making me sick. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“This happens often when you’re in a new environment. Your body has to adjust. Give it time. However, if it’s not the food and you’re changing, we’ll discover that, too.”
“I’m not turning into a zombie.”
“And that brings me to my first question.”
“What?”
“Why are you here?”
“I told you. I met up with a man. He was nice at first, but then we had a disagreement. He got angry and pushed me out of his car into that horde of zomb—” I feel that horribly familiar rumbling in my stomach again. “Gah. You have to undo these,” I plead, pulling at my shackles. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You don’t want me to ruin this beautiful dress, do you?”
I see him contemplating his options in his head.
“Come on! Please!”
After a moment, he unlocks the cuffs and grabs a gun from his holster that was hidden under his jacket. He points the gun at my head. “If you do anything threatening, you’re dead.”
I get up off of the bed and sprint over to the bathroom. I throw up into the toilet and then I sit down to get the rest of whatever is making me sick out.
“You don’t look so good,” he continues.
“No. I don’t imagine I do,” I reply, still squatting on the pot.
“Hurry up. Until we’re sure why you’re sick, we can’t let you roam around freely.”
“Roam around? I can barely stand.”
The cramping is intense. It’s like my innards are twisting and turning inside of me. I don’t know if it’s from the diarrhea or the heat from the area, but sweat is pouring off of my head. I manage to stand up, off balance, and vision compromised. I feel almost dead, but this is a different feeling than before. I feel the pain now.
I stumble out to the bedroom. The mystery man grabs my arm. He tries to hook me back up to the bed, but I can’t lie in the bed. I’m already overheating; the bed will only insulate me. I feel the cool floor under my feet. “No bed. Please. The floor.” I sprawl out on the colder concrete floor. It feels good against my hot skin.
I feel him pull my arms and I hear the click of the cuffs ringing in my ears. “I’ll be back when you’re feeling better.”
Unable to argue, I let go. The pain is too much for me. I pass out again.
Chapter 19
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I feel the room rumble. When I wake up, the bed next to me is shaking. The nameless man who I’ve seen a couple times now is standing in front of me again. “Time to wake up,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
“I should hope so. You’ve been sleeping for three days.”
“Three days? Oh crap!” I touch my head in disbelief. No more handcuffs.
“Yes. And I believe that you’re not a zombie. You would have turned by now. We would have killed you.”
“Uh-huh. Makes sense.”
“My name is Odon. And you are?”
“Jane.”
“Well, Jane. Now that I’ve done something nice for you by keeping you safe, it’s time you did something nice for me,” he says as he grabs my hands and helps me to my feet.
“Uhhh. OK.”
“Here we treat women well. We give them clean water, delicious food, and beautiful clothing,” he says as he touches the black dress I’m wearing. “Do you like it?” he asks, gesturing for me to sit on the bed.
“Yes. It’s very beautiful. Thank you,” I reply, sitting on the bed as he requested.
“A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman.” He moves closer to me and sits on the bed.
“Thank you,” I repeat, giving him a nervous smile. Play the part, Jane. This is the only way to save Jack. Stay calm.
He inches closer. “We’re not used to exotic women from other lands here.” He turns his head and starts kissing my neck. He wraps his arms around my body. I sit quietly and pretend it’s Jack kissing me.
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well,” I blurt out as I escape his grasp and
run back to the toilet. I lift up my dress and squat. I don’t have to go, but considering my other option, I’d rather fake another bout of diarrhea.
He follows me into the bathroom and watches me pretend. Nothing happens.
“Let’s go,” he says after a few moments. “I want to show you something.”
He yanks my arm and I fall forward onto the floor. I’m able to brace myself with my hands and, after a moment, I stand up. Luckily, my dress does its job and covers most of my body down to my ankles. He grabs my arm tighter and pulls me out of the bathroom.
He continues dragging me and opens the door that was previously locked. We walk down the hall and turn right. He opens another door, pulls me inside, and I hear moaning ahead. That’s when I begin to smell something putrid, but familiar, in the air. It accosts my nostrils.
As we walk deeper into the room, I see zombies, lots of them, in jail cells. The noises they’re making are horrible and I try to cover my ears. He pulls my hands away so I can hear them screeching.
“If you don’t do as I say, I’ll open their cages and throw you in with them. Is that what you want?” The man holds my arm tight and drags me toward some buttons on a control pad on a nearby desk. “All I have to do is push a couple of buttons and your life is over.”
“No! No! No!” I scream.
“They’ll tear you to pieces or turn you into one of them,” he says as he grabs a tuft of my hair and pushes me dangerously close to a zombie reaching out of his cell. “And you’re so pretty. It would be a shame for you to turn into something so ugly.”
“Stop. Stop. I’ll do whatever you want.” My heart is beating faster than ever.
“Good!” He throws me to the floor. “I’m glad we have an understanding.”
As Odon is threatening me, I turn my head and spot a refrigeration room. It’s made of a clear material so I can see inside. It looks high-tech, at least compared to everything else in this wasteland. If there’s something in here worth stealing for the Rat, it’s probably in there. I have to get in there.