by Annie Walls
“Cold? Want a blanket?” I ask and she shakes her head no. I want to make her as comfortable as I can. Tying Bryce up in the same fashion, I lay him down facing her. It takes longer, since he is dead weight. I go into the bedroom to apply some heavy make-up. I don’t want to be recognized. Locking the sliding glass door, I go to the front door and lock it behind me as I leave. I take the time to write down their house number and slink away into the night.
*
By the time I get to the women’s dorm, I learn two things. One is the black-canvas men patrol. The other is this place is worse than a maze. The building I’m at is huge, like an apartment building, complete with balconies. I have no idea how I’m going to find Mya. I’m so screwed, but I push on, walking right through the front door into the lobby.
First thing I do is search around for a directory. No such luck. Damn my mortal soul. Silk plants strategically decorate the corners. A full-length mirror that can be used by twenty people at one time hangs on the wall. The ladies need one last look at themselves before mingle time with the bachelors. I try not to gag.
“May I help you?” A voice echoes through the lobby with extra loud vibrations.
I turn and see a young woman watching me with a hand on her hip. I don’t know what to say, but she helps me out.
“I know it’s hard adjusting, but you’ll get there. You must be new. I’m Cynthia.” She holds out her hand. I don’t take it because I don’t want to get too close, but she doesn’t seem all that bright. Or maybe she doesn’t think the armed and dangerous Kansas City Sunshine Moore would waltz in here like she owns the place.
“Uh, Stacy,” I say so my voice won’t carry. “I’m meeting a friend down here,” I explain. “Have you seen her?”
She cocks her head to the side and glances at my pack. Before I came in here, I had stuffed everything inside in case I ran into anyone and wanted to appear harmless.
“Running away isn’t the answer. I can get someone you can talk to.” Her eyes move to my absurd pants. I should have borrowed some clothing from Ashley.
“Oh,” I giggle. “I’m not running away. I’m giving some clothes that don’t fit anymore to my friend. She loves them.”
Skepticism crosses her features as she checks out my pants, but she brightens. “Oh, well then. Maybe you missed her. Do you what room she is in?”
Double bingo. “Uh, no. She told me, but I forgot.” I try to put some distress on my face.
“What’s her name? I’ll probably know.”
“Mya.”
Her brows furrow as her face changes. “Who the hell are you kidding? Mya isn’t friends with anyone. That weirdo is some kind of recluse freak.” Taking a deep breath, I stuff down the rising anger and keep calm.
“That’s not nice. I like her is all. Maybe if everyone looked beneath the surface, they’d see what was really there.”
Her eyes narrow. “I’ll call her to see if she is expecting you.” Her steps echo all the way to the lobby desk, drowning out my own soft stepping behind her. I take the gun from the back of my pants and pistol-whip her before she dials the first number. I catch her as much as I can and slide her to the floor. Glancing around, I hang the phone up without making a sound. Shock courses through me at the feel of a phone. I stare at it a little too long before catching sight of a lobby bathroom. I pull her in, wrapping her hands and legs up good and tight with the duct tape. I turn on the faucet and water trickles out. The pressure is really low, but I try to splash her face anyway. She doesn’t stir.
I drag her into a stall. Her cheeks are warm as I hold onto the sides of her face. The water ripples with the vibration of the stall right before I shove her face in it. It takes a second but she starts thrashing, and I pull her up. Gasping in air, she glances around with wet hair stuck to her forehead, taking in her situation, including the Bersa I point at her. “You scream and I’ll shoot you.”
“Floor three, room sixteen,” she says in matter of fact way. I blink.
Her mouth opens to say something else, but I hit her before it comes out. She drops to the toilet seat. Cursing myself for jumping the gun, I begin checking her pockets. She probably didn’t have anything important to say, anyway. Finding a key, I pocket it in case I need it somewhere along the way.
I make it to the third floor without another incident. The carpeted hall keeps my steps silent as perfumes reach my nose. Different sounds blast from everywhere—music, laughter, and TVs, all in a big jumble. Picking up my pace, I find room sixteen and take my toboggan off to release my locks. I knock on the door.
A miniature version of Leila opens it. I stare at her, every bit like her mother with her father’s pointy nose and dark skin, but whereas he is handsome, she makes it look cute. I don’t put her past twenty years old.
Her dark eyes widen as her gaze slides eerily beside me. The small hairs on my arms stand straight up. Great.
I peek but there is nothing there. Rubbing my arms, I say, “I wish you guys would stop doing that.”
She swallows. “Can I get my backpack?” she asks, turning, and her long, black hair swishes around.
Her small apartment is nothing like her parent’s house. I wonder if this compound has a special place for her to do her Voodoo stuff.
She seems wired with wide eyes and dilated pupils, licking her lips. “I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t wait to see my parents.” She grabs her backpack out of a closet. “Don’t look so shocked, Kansas. You should know how much I already love you, and I will do everything I can to help you.”
I stuff down my shock of her obvious affection. “Good. Then you’ll cut out the zombie mojo, so my team can come in,” I say, borrowing Sander’s wording.
She smiles at it. “I know you need the computer systems, but they are kept under heavy guard. I can keep the living dead at bay, but I can’t do anything to get you in there. Also, we have to act quickly, because once they notice I’m gone all hell will break loose.”
“Well, with the people I have tied up, it’ll be sooner than that. Not to mention, the team is four hours away.”
“What?” she asks me, placing folded clothes in her bag.
Since she is in a hurry, I stuff my toboggan on my head. “The famished, it’s overwhelming. We couldn’t do it without harming anyone. We barely made it out of the last attack unscathed.”
“I guess we’d better gear up for a long night.”
I agree and point to her bathroom. “Grab a towel.”
*
I quickly realize stealth is not Mya’s specialty. Every move she makes behind me bounces around the space surrounding us as we rush through the shadows. Several times I’ve pushed her against the wall as we wait for guards to pass, or in one instance, stagger as if drunk. After an eternity of this, we make it to the fence. The famished automatically part like the red sea.
I smirk at her. “Nice.”
“Comes in handy,” she whispers as I grab the fence for the climb.
*
The four hour drive is hell on my nerves and worst of all, I’m exhausted. The good news is I think I can get some sleep later, since the famished are subdued. After Mya checks over Ashley’s map and adds to it, I speak to her about something.
“I have an idea.”
“What would that be?”
“This whole idea of going in and letting zombies run amok doesn’t sit well with me. Is there anyway you can direct them?”
“Maybe. Depends on what you’re thinking.”
I smile, and we make plans. Eventually, she falls asleep. My eyelids droop, and I’d turn off the heater to keep me awake, but I don’t want to make Mya uncomfortable. When I pull into the parking lot where the team waits for us, people jump out of vehicles and come from the small building.
“You made it!” Leila yells, rushing to Mya. It makes me happy. Mago gives me one of his rare smiles.
“Best part, no casualties. They’re quite comfortable with their fake sense of safety.” Everyone congratulates us and I introduce them to M
ya. I yawn and wave the map. “I have a pretty good map of the compound, and Mya knows the rest.”
Reece takes it, looking it over. Nastas and Sander peek over his shoulder. I flinch when someone grabs my sore arm.
Rudy loosens his grip. “Sorry. Are you hurt?”
I shake my head. “Just held someone in a headlock for a bit.” His lips tip up as he rubs the soreness.
“We’ll make some concrete plans in the morning, but it’s good to get a peek now,” Nastas says. They gather around the map.
Everyone else jumps the gun and starts throwing up tents now that they know they are mostly safe from famished because of Mya. Climbing into the truck, I grab a pillow and pass out.
*
Someone shakes me. When I open one eye, Rudy tries to hide his amusement. “You’re drooling on my pillow.” He holds up a fingertip covered in my saliva before wiping it on his jeans.
“Sorry,” I stammer, wiping my hand across my mouth. It’s still dark out. “How long was I asleep?”
“You’ve only been sleeping an hour, but Gwen cooked while you were gone.” He holds up a cup. “Vegetable soup. Just for you. Canned, but it’s good.”
“Thanks,” I say taking a sip. “Mmmm. It’s hot.” I watch Rudy as he plugs in a little heater, turning it on the lowest setting.
“Can’t leave this on for too long.”
I agree with him and pull out the leaflet, holding out it to him, “Your reputation is holding up swell.” His eyes widen and then he smiles. Flipping page by page, I know when he gets to Gray because his face hardens.
“Yours is, too.” He studies the front, his eyes skimming back and forth, and he cocks a brow. “Government?”
“I guess that’s what they are telling themselves.” I relate my brief conversation with Ashley.
“You were way too young to have a mug shot.” He smiles at the picture. I throw a pillow at him. It bounces off his head.
I sigh. “I was young and dumb once.”
“You mean you’re not now?”
I grin. “Okay really young and really dumb.” I blow out a breath. “I was arrested for trying to change a grade. Malachi’s grade. They never found out what I changed, but they knew I was there. Traced it back to me. They thought I had changed my own grade as if I’d go through the trouble,” I scoff. “My teachers confirmed that I hadn’t while I claimed to do it just to see if I could.”
He thinks about this for a long moment. “Lucky guy.”
“He didn’t know I did it for him until he got his grades and his GPA was still a 4.0. By then, I had already gotten off. Not gotten off, but my dad pulled as many strings as he could and I had to do stints of community service. I was extremely lucky to have it written off. When Malachi found out, he was going to turn himself in, but I talked him out of it. He was furious at me for a long time. But somehow the revolutionists know about it, hence the mug shot. I don’t know why they used that one. There’s another one floating around.” Rudy’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead. “A year later, I took Malachi’s truck as a prank while he was in class one day. He thought it was really stolen. Truthfully, I thought he would call me first, not the police.” I laugh and shrug. “Needless to say, my days of pranking were over. Especially after paying to have all of his ignition wires put back.”
Malachi deserved it after constantly pranking me with small things.
He frowns. “Bet you didn’t think stealing cars and hacking into computers would have gotten you into this mess.”
“No. I did not,” I say in a small voice. “Look at your picture. You look like you’re ready to kill someone.”
“Of course I was pissed. They threw me in a cage for quarantine after fighting off some guys manhandling Michelle. Remember the little girl who took care of Dex?” I nod. “It was a mess. For days, I put up with some fucked up shit. You really don’t want to know the details of being up close when someone turns and seeing it over and over. Keeps me up at night sometimes. And the smell of burning bodies…” This is true, from what I’ve gathered about him, he doesn’t go near a fire when it’s burning zombie corpses. “This was after a grueling trip there with Julie and the few others we picked up along the way.”
My face pinches. “I can only imagine how Julie was when everything first went down. Understandable.”
“You have no idea, Darlin’.” We laugh, but he calms his tone, searching my face.
Grabbing the pillow again, I lie back down fully clothed. Just in case. It was too easy to get Mya, and guilt hounds me knowing Ashley and Bryce wait, bound and gagged. Not to mention, the girl in the bathroom. I voice all of this to Rudy, who agrees with my assessment. I have an icky feeling.
*
The next morning I wake up and my eyes are stuck together, but after rubbing out crust, I blink them open. My nose is icy from breathing the chilly air, but my body is warm from its entanglement with Rudy.
I smile at him because he takes up the entire space, leaving me in a ball beside him. It’s really hard for him not to. His stubble is days old with his hair tossed about. The serenity on his face is something I like seeing as his thick lashes shadow the top of his cheeks.
He opens his eyes and catches me watching him. Smiling, his arm tightens around me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?” he asks, searching my eyes for any hints.
“For being patient with me. It means a lot.” The dream of him turning rushes through my mind. “Don’t…” I can’t even say it.
Somehow, he knows. “I’m not going anywhere.” He grins. “You were right.”
“I’m always right, but for clarification purposes, what am I right about this time?” We both laugh.
“These people are my family. You are, too.”
The doors open and sun streams in. “Okay, you two. I have two words for you,” Reece says when he climbs in with Glinda right behind him. “Wake and bake.” He grins. His goatee is freshly braided and the sun bounces off his colorful head.
“That’s three words,” I say, no longer whispering.
His head moves back and forth as if he’s counting. “Two important words,” he emphasizes. Rudy laughs and it’s rich with sleep.
“Go right ahead.” I grab a jug of water. “Any change of plans?”
Reece shakes his head and glances at Rudy. “Nah, we don’t want to get there until dawn. Mya says that’ll be the best time.” He takes a drag off his joint and passes it to Glinda.
“We’re going to be outnumbered,” I say, throwing in some logic. No matter how long and much we plan, it’s not enough.
Glinda scoffs. Reece says, “Not when we have a Voodoo king, two zombie queens, and one immune.”
“I’m not immune,” I disagree, taking the joint away from Glinda. I think about the rogue at the fence, deciding not to mention it.
“Might as well be.” Rudy sits up, tying his white bandana on top of his bed hair. I pass him the weed.
“It doesn’t help you guys any.” I dig in Rudy’s bag for a brush and pull off his bandana. He raises his eyebrows and moves so I can brush his hair.
“I’m not worried, Suga. We got this,” Glinda says, watching our every move. Reece is, too. He doesn’t even notice Rudy hogging the joint. I think they have a lot to worry about since we’ve decided to only blow up any labs we find. After scouring them, of course.
Rudy exhales, “I think we’ve taken the extra precautions, but you’re right to worry about it. We’ll get whoever we can, even if we have to drive to Arizona riding on top of one another.”
“You’re planning to go to Arizona?” I brush through the tangles, and the sun makes his hair shine with golden honey-brown colors.
He takes a minute to answer. “To get the survivors there, yes.” Rudy’s deep voice vibrates through his scalp. Glinda tries to hide a smile.
“What are you smiling for?” I ask Glinda, letting go of Rudy’s hair.
She grins wider. “Nothin’ Suga, I think it’s funny
, yew brush Rudy doll’s hair, but not yer own.” She takes a deep puff of smoke and hands it to me.
Rudy ties his bandana on and grins at me, too. Exhaling smoke, I roll my eyes at them and toss the brush in his bag. “Is there any of that veggie soup left?” I smack my lips. Everyone laughs.
*
My buzz makes the rest of the day a peaceful one instead of an anxious one. Rudy shows everyone the leaflet I acquired, and just like us, the team dismisses it as a scare tactic. Rudy and I are the butt of everyone’s jokes because of our outdated pictures. I take a long nap after I eat and wake up to a bored Glinda wanting to paint my fingernails.
“You brought nail polish?” I ask, watching her dig through what I deemed the bag of torture. She brings out the metal pointy thing used to push cuticles back, and her pink lips smile at me.
“I gots my priorities,” she says, checking out my nails. “Yer cuticles are nasty!”
I sigh. My nails are long, but I chew and pick at my cuticles. “At least I don’t bite my nails.”
She scoffs, buffing out some ridges. “Yer nails don’t mean shit, if yer cuticles are all roughed up and bleedin’.”
I shrug, watching as she buffs, bases, and paints them a lavender color. “I don’t know why you’re even going through the trouble. I’m going to chip it away.”
“Betta that, than yer skin. Anyways, yew used to paint ‘em.” She’s right. She knows this because you can clearly see my nails holding up my case number in the mug shot. She’s smart and doesn’t say anything about my picture perfect hair. I was a vain person then. A lot has certainly changed.
“I didn’t like Mac cause he killed my husband.”
My body tenses from the shock of her words. “I’m sorry.”
She sniffs and continues with my nails. “Don’t be. Took me a long time to realize he did it out of mercy. My husband, Justin, was in a bad way. All messed up with some kinda infection.” She looks at me now with seriousness. “I didn’t know whut to do. So I hid him and tried to take care of him the best I could.” Peering at what she is doing, she keeps going, “I couldn’t kill him, but he was sufferin’. Sufferin’ so bad, Suga.”