Page 6 of All Your Days (Mayhem Manuscripts Season One: 1nf3ction #4)

“Perfect.” He tells me when we move on to Snap. “She’s bloody perfect. The docs aren’t sure if she’s immune yet. But they keep running their tests.”

He doesn’t say any more about her after that. And I don’t ask.

I let him win this round; it seems like the least I can do.

We play for an hour and a half before the door buzzes, announcing someone’s coming.

“Jacob, boss wants you on nine.” Huey, a fellow guard—and one of the few people I would maybe call a friend—calls in way of a greeting as he swings the door wide open.

Tobias, Kennedy, and Goontie—real name Gunther—the guards on my crew who were meant to be on duty with me follow Huey, dragging the food and lab carts behind them.

Kennedy is the only one to show any signs he’s noticed the cards I’m packing up, his eyebrow raising questioningly.

It’s no secret Kennedy is a stickler for the rules ‘cause he’s gunning for a position in leadership.

One time he got too pissed at a fire pit night and I had to listen to his whole plan for himself—and our entire fucking crew—for leadership.

Good luck to him, I reckon, even though it’s not something I spend my nights dreaming about like he does.

I try not to think about the future too hard.

Too easy to get disappointed when it all turns to shit.

“Ah, fuck. They’re fucking. The docs are gonna be pissed.” Goontie throws his hands in the air at the scene on the tables. He looks despairingly between the cart and the tangle of limbs a few times before wandering to the control panel while shaking his head.

“Why didn’t you stop ‘em?” Kennedy crosses his arms over his chest, trying to look intimidating.

I mirror the look he gave me with the cards, not giving two shits about his bluster.

We’re roughly the same height, but Kennedy’s got a couple of kilos more muscle on him than me.

That and a few years of seniority too—in years on the guard at least. I’m not exactly sure when I was born, as there’s never been anyone around to tell me.

All we’ve had is a rough guess. Not that any of it matters, he’s obviously just got a bug up his butt about something and taking it out on me. That doesn’t mean I have to take it.

“What’d you want me to do? Go in there? Drag them apart? Get a bucket of water and throw it on ‘em?”

Kennedy opens his mouth to say something, but the loud groans of the orgy reaching its climax interrupts him. Just in time for lunch.

“Ignore Kenny. He’s just mad because Union’s playin’ funny buggers' and now Command is switchin’ up everyone’s shifts.

It’s why we’re late. They fucked us around and had us in the wrong section.

” Tobias explains, locking the wheels on the black trolley loaded up with trays holding bowls of meaty stew.

Sure it’s secured, he slaps Kennedy on the shoulder, moving past him to set up the food hatch, where they pass the trays to the residents.

“Grub’s up!” He calls, opening the hatch.

“Too right they’re playin’ with things, the dickheads.” Goontie agrees from the control centre computer. His white-blonde hair falls in his eyes when he looks over his shoulder at the group. “And anyway, Doc knows it’s impossible to get blood samples from this lot, let alone their splooge.”

I take deep centering breath and look across the confined space to Huey who gives me a sympathetic grin and an eye roll when Kennedy turns his back.

“You want Stevie’s splooge, I got some here for you.”

I recognise Rebecca, the former grunt, rubbing her naked body against the bars. She worked mainly outside as an expert forager and it was a real blow to her team when she got sent down.

True to her word, the remains of Stevie’s cum trail down her thighs. Despite the guards recoiling at her display, or maybe because of it, she drags her fingers through the mess, bringing it to her mouth and sucking it off with an exaggerated moan.

“Mmm…” She taunts us, her eyes too bright and shiny, her grin unstable. “Delicious.”

“Keep that shit up, Rebecca, and I’ll assume you don’t want your food.

” Huey announces, expertly manoeuvring himself between the bars and Tobias, relieving the younger guard.

Most of our shifts are on watch, so Tobias is still green enough to be stunned stupid by the infected’s antics. Huey, on the other hand, isn’t.

“Arm.” Huey insists, holding out his hand for Rebecca.

She complies, but barely, letting them collect their hair, saliva, and blood samples with only a little bit of fuss. She’ll be moved down sooner rather than later, no doubt about it. She’s too far gone to stay, with the risk that she’ll turn at any moment.

It’s not a perfect system—the risk is there for all of us, even with our testing here. We never know exactly when the switch will flip. If nothing else, it gives the residents an illusion of safety.

The line moves quickly with Huey helping Tobias take the samples. Until one resident bumps another, sending both their food spilling over the floor. In a flash, it’s on, the residents jumping on the excuse for violence.

“Oi! Break it up!” Goontie booms out, smashing the bars with his baton.

This is the other reason why I looked the other way. If there’s a choice between a brawl or an orgy, I’ll always pick the second—and one or the other is inevitable down here. Sometimes both. What else have they got to do with themselves?

The fight continues until one resident is on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. Huey makes notes, while Kennedy aggressively stares down the mob egging on the fight. I edge away from them all, back to Kelly huddled in his corner, tears running down his cheeks.

“Will he be okay?” Kelly whispers, unable to take his eyes off the unconscious man on the floor.

The man's face is already so swollen, it’s impossible to recognise him. But the shallow rise and fall of his chest is still visible.

“Yeah. He’ll be fine. You’ll be sent to your rooms after lunch and locked in so we can deal with this.” I reassure him, or at least try to.

I almost want to reach through the bars and offer him some kind of comfort. But as much as I might take some risks, even going so far as to play cards with him, I know better than to reach between the bars. There has to be some lines.

“Thank you.” Kelly whispers eventually, when he finds the ability to make his feet walk to Tobias to give samples and take his food, under the watchful eye of Huey.

I let the thanks roll off me. It feels wrong. I didn’t do anything more than what I thought was right.

“I’m gonna go see the boss.” I tell my crew, needing to get out of here. It’s been too long underground and it’s making my skin itchy.

“Actually, before you go see them, can you run these to the labs?” Huey asks, capping the last sample vial and placing it carefully in its allocated spot. “Save us the trip, yeah mate?”

I hesitate at the door, eyes flicking between the cart and the smirk on Huey’s face.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. My obsession with the pretty-eyed lab grunt has escaped the notice of my crew—all of them except Huey.

He caught on a year or two ago, when I was keeping an eye on Eli during a visit from the armymen, though I reckon he suspected before that.

He’s been at me ever since. Telling me to make a move instead of creeping on him from a distance.

Huey’s lived at The Facility his whole life. Try as he might, he doesn’t get it, not really. Doesn’t get why I like to keep to myself. Why I don’t ‘make a move’ on Eli. His attempts to push me into doing more are getting less and less subtle and this is just another one of his tricks.

It’s like he can see the way my stomach has tightened with nerves and excitement at the idea of going to the Labs.

Part of me wants to say no. To tip the cart over and stroll out. But I don’t, because that would be a fucked up thing to do, and my days of being a petulant teenager are long over.

Huey’s got me over a barrel and he knows it.

“Yeah, right. Too easy,” I grit the words out and snag the cart, dragging it from the room.

The Labs and then Command. What a fucking day.