Windows had been curled up for God knew how long when she heard voices outside the unit, followed by the clanking of the sliding metal door being raised. She bolted upright and pushed herself into the corner, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and the intruder. Her heart pounded, her skin flushed, her stomach went nauseous. The door slid open and a woman stepped into the unit. Windows recognized her as the same woman who had brought her dinner and the sleeping bag on her first night. Windows finally had a chance to get a close look at her. At one time, she probably would have been considered attractive, but not now. Her five-and-a-half-foot frame was gaunt, and she walked with her shoulders hunched forward. She wore shabby, filthy clothes. Scraggly red hair flowed over her shoulders, and appeared as though it had not been washed in weeks. Several strands covered her face. When the woman ran a hand through them and pushed the hair behind her ear, Windows saw that the woman’s beauty had been beaten out of her. Hollow eyes stared vacantly from sockets blackened by lack of sleep, remnants of bruises darkened her cheeks, and a scar ran across her upper and lower lips. She carried a tray with a plate of food, a bowl of water, and a towel and facecloth.
A young girl about eight years old followed behind the woman. She had long brunette hair pulled into a ponytail that hung past her shoulders. The girl wore overalls, a sweatshirt, and sneakers that had seen better days. Like the older woman, she was dirty and haggard, although the girl looked more scared than abused. She held clothes in her arms.
The two stepped over to the table without saying a word. The older woman placed the tray on top, and then took the clothes from the young girl and set them alongside it. Only when the guard outside slid shut the metal door did the woman speak.
“I’m Debra Caslow. This is my daughter, Cindy.”
The young girl raised her hand and waved.
Debra regarded Windows and sighed under her breath, “Fucking animals.”
“Mom, it’s not nice to swear.”
“You’re right, dear.” Debra ran her hand across Cindy’s hair. The barest hint of a smile crossed her lips. She turned back to Windows. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Windows sat there, not sure what to do. Debra went over to the bowl of water and immersed the facecloth in it, soaking it for several seconds before wringing it out and returning to Windows.
“You have to keep going. Trust me, I know. Every woman here has spent time in the Clubhouse.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“No. The men call it the Clubhouse. We call it the Rape Room. You get used to it after a while. Every day in this hellhole is a struggle to maintain even a shred of self-respect.” Debra motioned with her head. “Come on.”
Windows stood up and walked over to the table. Debra began cleaning her face as if she was a child. Windows made no effort to do it herself, desperate for any gesture of kindness. Cindy passed behind her mother and stood by the opposite end of the table, playing with the towel.
“What’s your name?” asked Debra with the nonchalance of a hair stylist chatting with a customer.
“Windows.”
“Is that your last name?”
“That’s what they call me.”
“You mean the people back at the fort?”
Windows nodded, fighting back tears.
“I’m sorry about that.” Debra let the conversation lapse. When done cleaning Windows’ face, Cindy handed her the towel.
“Who are these people?” Windows asked as she dried herself.
Debra glanced over her shoulder to make certain no one could hear. “Most of them are criminals who broke out of a nearby federal penitentiary during the first weeks of the outbreak. They set up camp here and have been preying on anyone unfortunate enough to wander past, or anyone they come across on raiding missions. Most of the men are killed outright, unless they have a skill that can be put to use. Or if they fight back, in which case they’re brought back here and put on the Line. All the women are raped. The lucky ones are murdered afterwards. The unfortunate ones are brought back here to be sex slaves. When the men grow tired of them, they join the others on the Line.”
“What’s ‘the Line’?”
“That’s what they call the defense perimeter. Anyone who pisses off Price gets sent outside where they’re chained to the ground outside the wall surrounding this place. It’s his sick idea of an early warning system. If any of the deaders get close to the compound, they stop to feed off of someone on the Line first. The screaming warns the guards.”
“Has it happened before?”
“Only once since I’ve been here. Others said it happened a lot in the early days. You can hear the screaming all over the compound. It’s terrible.” Debra took the towel. “Take off your clothes.”
Windows wrapped her arms across her chest and squeezed tight. “Why?”
“I have clean clothing for you. You don’t want to wear those. Trust me, I know. They’re soiled with them.” Debra spoke the last word with bitterness.
Windows slid off her shoes.
“The Line is the reason most of us put up with what we do,” Debra continued. “It’s worse than being dead. At least death is quick. Out there, you slowly die of starvation, or you become a meal for a deader.”
“Don’t they feed those on the Line?”
“It’s a punishment detail. Everyone gets a cup of soup and water a day, plus a blanket to cover up at night. No one has lasted more than a few weeks. That’s why most of the people in here do as they’re told. It’s better than the alternative.”
“Is it?” Windows sneered as she slid off her jeans. Semen that had leaked from her vagina stained the crotch. Windows fought back the urge to vomit. “How often do you have to give yourself to them?”
Debra avoided her gaze. “Every night.”
“I’d rather take my chances out there with the rotters and the elements than submit to them.” She flung the soiled jeans at Debra.
The woman grabbed them in mid-air. For a moment she glared at Windows, then her expression softened into one of self-contempt. “So would I, but I have other considerations.”
Windows realized she meant Cindy and regretted her accusation. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I’m sorry for what I’ve done to keep her safe.” Debra knelt in front of Windows and began wiping down her pubis, trying to clean off the encrusted remnants of the assault. “It’s not as bad as you might think if you learn how to play the system. There’s a lot of girls around here who haven’t figured it out, and they get gang raped every night. Not me, though.”
“So, what’s the system?”
“Figure out which ones want a girlfriend and be nice to them.”
“You mean fuck them?’
“Yes, but also treat them well. Compliment them, do special things for them, make them feel special. If you become their girlfriend, they’ll be protective and won’t let the others have their way with you.” Debra stood up and handed Windows the towel. While Windows dried herself, Debra rinsed out the face cloth. “I have that relationship with Meat. That’s what he makes all the women here call him.”
Cindy glanced up. “He makes me call him Daddy.”
Debra’s face expressed the humiliation for both of them. “He won’t share me with others, and he keeps Cindy safe as long as I do what he wants. I’ll do anything to protect her.”
“I’m sure you have.” Windows meant it as a gesture of sympathy, not a condemnation.
“You have no idea.” Debra smiled, but the anguish in her eyes and the quivering around the mouth said it all. “Meat likes you. It’s why he wouldn’t let you be killed back at your camp.”
“I thought you were his girlfriend?”
“I’m expected to be monogamous, not him.” Debra held up the facecloth. “Take off your shirt.”
Windows unbuttoned it and let it slide to the floor. “I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this? Do you figure if he’s fucking me, then you get a break?”
>
“Stop being a cunt.” Debra threw the facecloth at Windows. It slapped across her chest. “I’m trying to help you. If you prefer to be gang banged every night, then that’s your choice.”
Visions of last night flashed through Windows’ mind. She would do anything not to have to repeat that. “Sorry. It’s just that… you know.”
“I do.” Debra motioned for Windows to clean herself. “And yes, I have an ulterior motive for arranging this.”
“What’s that?”
Debra glanced over at Cindy. Her face beamed, the first positive emotion Windows had seen from her. “I’m terrified for her safety if something happens to me. If I help you out, if I arrange it so you’re Meat’s girlfriend, you have to promise to take care of Cindy if something should happen to me.”
Windows nodded halfheartedly. “I promise.”
“No,” snapped Debra. “I mean this. You have to swear on your life that you’ll protect her.”
Cindy gazed up at the two women for just a moment before glancing back down at the table. Windows’ heart ached for the girl. Her world had been turned upside down in the past year, first by the rotter outbreak, and then by winding up in this place. All she could look forward to was growing up to be molested. It probably would have been better if she hadn’t survived the first few days. She had, however, and fate had dealt her the shittiest hand in the deck. Nothing Windows could do about that now. She could at least try and prevent the situation from getting worse, although deep down she knew she had about as much of a chance of that as stopping the rotter apocalypse by herself. Still, she had to try.
“I promise that if you help me, I’ll help you protect your daughter.”
“Thank you.” Debra rushed forward and threw her arms around Windows, hugging her tightly despite the awkwardness of Windows being naked. “Cindy, honey, bring the jumpsuit.”
Cindy did as her mother asked. When she approached, Debra kneeled down to her daughter’s level. “Miss Windows is going to be our friend and she’s going to help keep you safe.”
“Thank you.” Cindy’s expression remained unenthusiastic, though her eyes expressed gratitude.
Debra took the jumpsuit and handed it to Windows. “This is the only thing we have that will fit you. It used to belong to a female Air Force major who the raiding party stumbled across.”
“What happened to her?”
“After a week inside the compound, Price put her on the Line. By then she was so far gone she lasted only a few days. Now get dressed and eat. Afterwards, I’ll take you to see the doctor for a regimen of morning after pills, and then you’ll move into Meat’s quarters with us.”
Windows tried to conceal the fear that began to well up inside of her.
CHAPTER TEN
Price slowed the black Hummer H3 as he approached the facility and turned left off of Suncock Valley Road. He felt the tension in himself and his three passengers replaced by a sense of security at having safely arrived home. One of his men on guard duty raced out to the perimeter fence and pulled aside the gate, letting in the vehicle. As Price passed through, he glanced off to his left at those staked to their positions along the Line. The ones within eyeshot averted their gazes or bowed their heads. Price smirked. Nothing like fear to keep his followers under control.
Another guard pushed open the security gate leading into the facility. Price drove into the compound, made a U-turn, and parked in front of the storage facility’s main office, which also served as his headquarters. The others climbed out and headed back to their units. Price gave a final check of the gas and oil gauges before shutting off the engine. As he slid out of the Hummer, he noticed Carter standing a few feet away. Holding the keys in his right hand, Price raised them over his shoulder and pressed the lock button. The lights on the Hummer flashed and the alarm beeped twice.
Carter chuckled. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Lock the Hummer. It’s not like anyone’s going to steal it.”
Price shrugged and headed for his quarters. “We’re surrounded by criminals. Better safe than sorry.”
Carter fell in beside his boss. “Any luck?”
“Not a thing. We found plenty of evidence of them going through the area on their way down to Pennsylvania, but nothing indicating they’ve come back this way.”
“Considering what’s out there, I doubt they made it that far. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“I have to worry about it,” Price said. “It’s how I’ve kept us safe all these months.”
“I understand.”
“Besides, I wouldn’t count them out yet,” said Price, now more conciliatory since he had made his point. “They have vampires with them, which gives them an edge against the deaders. You saw what they did to Ike and his team. I don’t want to think about what will happen if those things get lose in here.”
“Do you think that’s a possibility?”
“We can’t rule it out. If they make it back to their camp and find it wiped out, they’ll probably figure out we were involved and try to get revenge. Fuck, I know I would.”
“Do you want me to send a scouting party back to their camp and watch out for them?”
“No,” said Price. “It’s too risky. Chances are if the survivors don’t kill our people, the deaders will. We can’t afford to send enough men to keep the scouting party safe.”
“I could put skirmishers around the perimeter and set up roadblocks.”
Price stared off to the west to where a hill overlooked the storage facility. He studied the high ground for a few seconds and shook his head. For the first time since taking over this compound, he felt nervous about their safety. “If there are vampires in their group, they’ll take out anyone you post outside the compound before we can be warned.”
“Well, we have that cherry picker we found here when we took over the place. I could put it at one end of the compound and post guards on it.”
“You mean a makeshift watchtower?”
Carter nodded. “We have those night vision goggles we took off that National Guard unit we ambushed a few months ago. It would give us an edge.”
“Do it.” Price opened the door to his office and stepped inside, waving for Carter to follow him. “However, we have a bigger problem than this raiding party and its vampire pets. We have an internal threat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Close the door.” Price leaned his M&P15-22LR against the wall. He dropped into his chair, pulled out a drawer, and propped his feet on it. When Carter sat opposite him, Price continued. “Half of this compound poses a threat to us.”
“I haven’t heard any dissatisfaction from the men.”
“Not them. They’re loyal. I’m talking about those on the Line and the whores we’re keeping here.”
Carter looked confused. “You don’t think they’ll rise up against us?”
“Not on their own. They’re too beaten down. And I doubt most of those on the Line would have the energy. But if that renegade patrol comes after us, I don’t rule out the possibility that some of these people might take up arms against us. We’d then be facing a threat from inside as well as out, and we could find ourselves outnumbered. If that happens, we’ll need to even the odds.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“It’s more of an order than a suggestion.” Price pointed a finger at Carter. “I want you to develop a contingency plan to murder everyone on the Line and all the whores in the compound if we come under attack.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The medication seemed to be working. After they had set sail from Portland, Bethany had moaned for several hours before finally drifting off to sleep. Natalie stroked her hair. Bethany’s wound was worse than they had first thought. The rotter had not only bitten deeply into her cheek, it had scraped away parts of her gum, exposing the teeth.
Natalie had volunteered to sit with Bethany for a while longer when most of the other Angels left to find a pla
ce to bunk down, leaving Emily topside to teach Ari and Josephine how to operate the yacht. Natalie had told the others she wanted to sit with Bethany in case Bethany woke up and needed anything. In truth, the situation scared her and she wanted to hide her fear from the others. Acquiring the vaccine to the Zombie Virus meant the outbreak entered a different phase. Prior to this, even the smallest bite meant a death sentence for the victim, leaving the only questions as when and how to put them down. With the Angels now immunized, even several bites would no longer condemn them to turn into a rotter. However, that brought with it a host of other, vastly more complicated issues. In Bethany’s case, how were they to treat a massive wound without the necessary medical facilities, especially large-scale trauma that would leave a disfiguring scar when it healed?
If it healed.
A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” she said softly.
Josephine stuck her head inside. “Sorry to bother you. We need you topside.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked nervously.
“Yes, but you need to see this.”
Natalie followed Josephine out of the room and up to the bridge. Once she was topside, she saw Logan International Airport, which she recognized by the twin supports of the air traffic control tower, a mile to their rear. The two women climbed the ladder to the flying bridge. Ari manned the helm, and every few seconds she glanced to the left in the same direction as Emily. Natalie made her way to the port beam and stood beside Emily.
“What do you see?”
“The ninth circle of Hell, honey.”
Natalie followed their gaze and gasped.
Boston stretched out in front of them. She had made enough trips to the city to be familiar with the skyline, and felt a mixture of shock and despair over how significantly the outbreak had changed it. Two miles in the distance in the Back Bay area, the most iconic landmark, the sixty-story John Hancock Tower, was literally a shell of its former self. The sun had risen over an hour ago, bathing the city in warm light; however, the reflection on the Hancock’s all-glass façade appeared disjointed because half the panels were missing, giving the impression of a partially-finished jigsaw puzzle. Its neighboring structure, the fifty-two-story Prudential Tower, no longer existed. Only wisps of white smoke marked the location where the building once stood, more than likely from fires still burning underneath the debris. Glancing toward the bow, she saw the remains of the Tobin Bridge, which connected Boston to the North Shore. The eight-hundred-foot-long, double-deck center span was gone, leaving only the on ramps and the twisted steel girders of the cantilever trusses mounted atop the cement supports.
Rotter World (Book 2): Rotter Nation Page 7