Jane Zombie Chronicles Box Set Books 4-6: Crisis Cell, Ominous Ordeal, Running Rampant (Jane Zombie Box Set Book 2)

by Gayle Katz

  “Is there anyone else awake or alive in here?”

  Same noises, but no responses.

  Lying there, naked under a sheet, strapped down, unable to move, I can’t help but feel a menacing sense of hopelessness. Staring at the grooves in the ceiling, of what I assume is a van, I try to talk to Jack. Some people talk to God, but I’m not religious or spiritual, so I’m going to talk to my husband. I still have faith in him.

  “If you can hear me, Jack… I love you. Wake up and realize something is wrong. I’m not sure how much more of this crap I can take before my time is done,” I say aloud as tears run down the side of my face. The quiet of the ride, the white noise from the other oblivious passengers, and the stress overwhelming my body are too much and I pass out.

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but the screech of the brakes wakes me up as the vehicle stops moving. Believe it or not, the rest of the drive was uneventful, even peaceful. Now I can hear people get out of the front of the vehicle. They’re talking and walking around to the back. One of Brie's team members opens the back doors and bright light invades the darkness. He yanks me out of the vehicle. As they unload other patients, daylight hits my face. Being outside feels fantastic. A breeze tousles my hair. For a moment, sunshine envelops my body in comfortable warmth. Everything seems natural. I haven’t felt this normal in such a long time. Then my stretcher's driver pushes me indoors and abruptly snaps me back into the reality of another science lab. From the banging around of the gurney and tossing me around while getting into the new facility, they don’t notice the restraints loosen a little. The numbness begins to go away and I get feeling back in my arms and legs. I can see Brie walking quickly down the hall.

  “That head of security is going to get an earful from me. For what we’re paying him, he needs to be doing a better job. A toddler could have secured our facility better than that lunkhead! If we lost research because of his incompetence, I’m gonna tear him a new one for sure.”

  “Where’s Cate?” I ask, not seeing anyone rolling her gurney down the hall with mine.

  “I don’t have time for you right now.” Brie doesn’t so much as grace my question with a glance in my direction.

  “Where’s Cate?” I ask a second time.

  “Please shut her up. I can’t handle her crap right now. I need to secure this facility ASAP!”

  “Tell me where she is. Please.”

  “Shhh,” one of the lab coats whispers.

  “Tell me where she is!”

  Refusing to answer, he turns his back on me. This is my chance. I wriggle my arms out of the restraints, unlock them, sit up, and then undo the strap restricting my legs. Swinging my body to the side, I get off the gurney and touch my bare feet to the floor. It’s cold and my feet are so hot. My legs are like jelly, barely able to stand. I look around. No one is watching me. I don’t know where I am, so I decide to make a break for it and go back the way we came. There has to be an exit.

  As I’m sneaking down the hallway, I see other people in lab coats walking around. I duck down and take cover under a decorative ledge to avoid being spotted. I look around again to make sure the remainder of the corridor is clear. While there are no people, per se, there is a security camera. Dammit! How am I going to get around it? Instead of going straight down the hallway to the exit, I make a right and explore more of the lab. I remain on all fours and crawl down the hallway. There are windows surrounding the main lab in the center of the facility, so I think it’s best to take cover.

  I come across a janitor’s closet. Creeping up to it, I reach up and twist the doorknob. It’s unlocked! I slither into the small closet and close the door behind me. I stand up, flip on the light switch, and look around. Nothing ground-breaking in here, just traditional janitor supplies, mops, buckets, trashcans, and various other cleaning supplies and equipment. I could set the building on fire, but then I’d potentially be putting innocent peoples’ lives in danger. Bad idea. If I’m going to make it past the security cameras without arousing suspicion and exit the facility prepared to go the distance, maybe this janitor uniform would work? I pull it off the rack and slip into it. The fabric is rough, immediately chafing my skin. I search around and look for some sort of hat to hide my face and protect it once I get out into the harsh environment. I also grab the mop and bucket.

  Inhaling deeply, I open the janitor’s closet door dressed as the janitor. I step a few feet and nothing happens. No one notices me. I walk slowly and as I come to the dead end in the hallway, I make a right toward the exit and away from the lab coats. Peeking up, I see the camera above me. I take the mop out of the bucket and begin swabbing the floor. Back and forth. Over and over again. I keep this up until I get close to the exit. Once I get close, I see a PIN pad to the right of the door with a small flashing red light. What’ll happen if I ignore it? I don’t know the code, but I’m so close. I can’t turn back now. I have to at least try.

  I push open the door to the exit without inputting the code and alarms go off. I drop the mop and run as fast as I can as far away as possible. Even outside of the building and off the premises, I can still hear the alarms. Looking behind me, I see guards chasing me in a Jeep. I keep running, knowing I can’t possibly outrun a vehicle. It doesn’t matter. I have to keep going. I have to keep running. Within seconds, they catch up and point some sort of strange gun at me. I look forward and continue running as fast as my feet can carry me. I hear the gunfire and, instead of bullets, it’s some type of netting that envelops me. It trips up my feet. I lose my balance and fall flat on my face.

  Once I’m neutralized, the guards pick me up, still in the netting, and deposit me into the back of their vehicle. Tying each of my arms to the Jeep’s roll bar handles, I’m on my knees looking up at the beautiful coral-pink dusk sky. Dejected that my escape attempt didn’t work, I don’t say a word. Neither do the guards. We drive back to the facility, where they untie my shackles, and return me to the lab from which I originally escaped. I recognize the researcher in the room with me. It’s Malik.

  “Smart girl,” Malik says as he unzips the uniform from my body with the guards still present so I can’t escape again. “Disguising yourself as the janitor to escape – I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

  “Just let me go,” I cry.

  “Not possible,” he replies. “Put her down on the exam table, boys,” he instructs the guards.

  The few moments of freedom seem even sweeter now that I’m strapped down and helpless again. I can feel my eyes tearing up and watering, as I spot one of Brie's researchers open a medicine cabinet and take out a bottle. He grabs the roll of paper towels sitting on top of the cabinet and walks back over to me.

  “Let me out of here!” I jerk around on the table, hopeful I can break free.

  “I’m trying to be nice. You have to pipe down. You can’t make such a scene.”

  “You want to be nice? Let me go! I need to get out of here!” I’m freaking out. I thought I didn’t have control before. Now I had even less and it scared the crap out of me.

  “Fine. We’ll play it your way,” he says as he pours the liquid into a paper towel, then covers my nose and mouth.

  I hold my breath, but that only lasts so long. The smell is gross, like the noxious odor at a gas station. Ugh! I try to move my head unsuccessfully and, after a couple of minutes of fighting, my whole body relaxes.

  Chapter 10

  ________________________________________

  I wake up when something rubs against me. Caressing me. When I open my eyes, I notice Malik walking away from me. What was he doing? Touching me? That was strange.

  Laid out on another medical exam table, I spot an unusual device right above me that I’ve never seen before. It’s got a somewhat squared-off ring that looks like a handle and it’s connected to a metal base that goes behind the exam table. I also see a shiny metal tray off to the side on a bedside table with wheels. This new place seems more high-tech than the last lab.

  I have to
get out of here. On the plus side, I feel energized – hyper, even! I can’t even begin to explain how my focus has increased. I don’t know if it was the rest period or the medication, but some combination of the two must have worked wonders.

  I see Malik return with a huge needle. He wraps my arm with another tourniquet and jabs me with it.

  “Ow! What are you doing?”

  “Drawing additional blood samples.”

  “How often are you going to do that?”

  “Every hour, on the hour. It’s protocol.”

  “Protocol?”

  “Yes.”

  “After you finish, can you loosen these restraints? I can’t move.”

  “That’s the point of restraints. We can’t have you getting away from us again.”

  “But they’re digging into my skin. And it really hurts.”

  “No. I can’t. It’s against protocol. I’m sorry.”

  “Please. Haven’t I been through enough? For whatever little time I have left, I just want to be comfortable before you throw me back into hell.”

  “I-I’m not allowed.”

  “It’ll be our secret, OK? No one has to know and I’d be ever so grateful.”

  “Grateful? How grateful?”

  “Extremely grateful,” I stress.

  “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Nothing is right about this situation. It’s screwed up, but we can at least try to make it a little more… enjoyable, don’t you agree?”

  “Enjoyable? What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure, but listen – I know you were touching me.”

  “I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me. I liked it. It felt really nice, ya know? I haven’t had anyone touch me like that in a while. Would you like to touch me again? Maybe touch more of me?”

  “Y-yes… I’d very much like it. I don’t know what it is about women like you, but I love the ones who turn into freaks. I’m getting excited just thinking about it.”

  “Then I guess you must love Brie. Since she was attacked and lost her arm, right?”

  “What are you talking about? She’s my boss, but also Brie was born like that. She didn’t lose her arm in any attack. Who told you that?”

  Why would she lie to me? To gain my sympathy? I don't understand, but no matter. I have to focus on the end goal here, which is getting free.

  “Uh... Never mind. If you undo these straps, I’ll let you touch me. I’d even touch you back to show you how grateful I am.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Uh-huh. It does. Doesn’t it?”

  “You promise you won’t tell?”

  “I promise. Who would I tell, anyway?”

  As he reaches over me to free my arms, he inhales deeply. “Infected women are my weakness. Oh. I can’t get enough of them,” he murmurs as he unbuckles the straps holding my legs down, desire in his eyes.

  “Why is that?”

  “You’re so… so… exotic.”

  “Exotic, huh?”

  “Yes, very.”

  As I slink out of my restraints and get to my feet, I rub my arms and my legs to ease the dull aches throbbing through them. In the meantime, the same metal tray I saw before catches my eye again.

  “May I?” he says as he reaches out to touch my face.

  “Yes, go ahead,” I say, giving him permission to get closer.

  As soon as I feel his creepy, clammy fingers touch my skin, I jump. “Sorry!” It’s not that he’s bad-looking or anything, but he’s one of the bad guys. His job is to experiment on me and, if I can help it, I’m going to stop him by any means necessary.

  “That’s OK. It makes it more exciting that way.”

  “Hmmm. It seems you’re a little bit of a freak yourself.”

  He continues getting close to me. “You might be right,” he admits, as he runs his hands down the sides of my naked body, his fingers exploring the indentations of all of my bite marks.

  Completely unencumbered by the restraints now, I reach out for the metal tray, making sure this perverted lackey is preoccupied with his dirty fetish. I grasp the tray with my fingers, slowly move away from him to get a good angle, and then slam it into his face hard and fast with a metallic clang and a loud roar. I hit him a couple more times. I can’t seem to stop. Each time I smack him in the face, I feel a perverse sense of power wash over me. I’m finally in control of something. I don’t want that feeling to stop, so I hit him again and again.

  With his nose crooked and bleeding, he’s disoriented. Malik falls back against the wall and slides down onto the floor, unconscious. Anger and madness take over my body. As I bring the tray above my head, I’m ready to go in for the kill, but then I stop in my tracks. I hear something. It sounds like a snarl or a grunt. Who made that sound? I look around the lab to see if I can identify the source, but there’s no one else in the room with me. If there’s no one else in here with me, did it come from my mouth? I couldn’t have made that sound. I cover my mouth with my hand as the realization sets in. No, no it can’t be. Was that me? It was. What’s happening to me? I have to get my actions and emotions under control.

  Breathing heavily, I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. It feels so good to let loose and regain some of my freedom, especially from this sicko, but I can’t kill him. I’m not a murderer. That would mean I’m no better than he is and I just can’t accept that. I’d rather die. He gets off by taking advantage of women who are turning into zombies. That’s a new one.

  Hovering over him, he’s still unconscious. I search his lab coat pockets for his phone. Nothing. I pull him by the legs so that his body is lying flat on the floor and proceed to search his front pants pockets. Still nothing. It drains all of my energy, but I manage to roll him over and start going through his back pockets. There it is. His phone! I grab it, but it’s locked.

  The screen reads: Fingerprint identification required to access.

  Still out like a light, I grab his hand and start placing his thumb and fingertips onto the phone, hoping that I have the right finger in the right spot on the phone. I drop his hand to the floor, but I still can’t unlock the phone. It must realize there’s a problem because it displays a picture of how to unlock the phone. There’s a pad on the back near the camera lens and it shows the pointer finger swiping against it. I take his hand again and place his pointer finger on the flat surface next to the camera. I rub it back and forth, drop his hand again, and flip over the phone. Voila! It’s unlocked!

  I start to punch in Jack’s number, and then I stop. I have to get a message to Jack. Tell him what’s happening. Warn him. Get him to realize his happy ending is not what he thinks, but I can’t call. I want to, but I can’t. What if he picks up the phone in front of the clone me? What if he lets on that he knows what’s happening? I can’t do that. I can’t jeopardize his safety. Maybe a text message would work? He’s always on his phone checking news alerts. With the would-be molester’s phone still in my hand, I locate the text messaging app, click New Message, and start to type. But what should I write? I close my eyes to calm down, collect my thoughts, and think. I don’t have much time.

  Think, Jane. Think! What the heck could I possibly write that’ll get his attention? Anything I send might come off as a prank, but maybe it’ll get him thinking. Hunched over this lab coat guy who I just knocked out, I enter Jack’s cell phone number and then start typing a message into the phone. My hands are sweaty and shaking. The pressure is on and my fingers are having a tough time typing out the message.

  “Jack, stay calm. This is your wife, Jane. The woman you’re with now isn’t me. I know this is going to sound crazy, but she’s my clone – at least that’s what they told me. When you were being held hostage, I tried to rescue you, but they captured me and I don’t know where I am. DO NOT respond to this message. Don’t call the number, either. This isn’t my phone. You’re being watched. Don’t let them know you know so
mething is up. I love you.”

  I hit send on the message and watch the status change from sending to delivered to sent. Breathing a sigh of relief, I click the message I just sent, delete it from the phone history, wipe the screen clean against my unconscious captor's lab coat, and replace the phone to where I found it, in this guy’s pants. Oh, how I wish I could send myself as a text message.

  The lab coat guy makes a noise. He’s starting to stir. If he wakes up, he’ll overpower me and I don’t know what’ll happen then. I can’t think about that now if I want to get out of here. Instead, I turn to the exam table and grab the restraints. I take one of them and start to wrap the guy’s wrists together, when his eyes pop open, scaring me.

  “Boo!” Malik shouts. “Guards!”

  Taking advantage of the element of surprise, he quickly unwraps his arms and instead entangles my wrists together as additional men in uniforms enter the room. Unable to get myself free, he holds me while the two guards take the restraints and wrap them around the medical trapeze hanging over the exam table. Once I am secured to it, he pushes a button and it starts to ascend, lifting me up with it until I’m completely stretched out. Only the tips of my toes touch the floor.

  “You OK, sir?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. We’re good now. Get out!”

  The guards walk out of the room in a huff. “What a jerk,” I overhear one of them mumble.

  “Let me go!” I scream.

  “No way. You can’t be trusted,” he says as he lifts me higher. Blood is still dripping out of his nose.

  Given my relatively short stature, it’s not long until my feet are dangling in the air off of the ground and my arms are completely outstretched.