Page 3

Chapter Three

I ’ll take my chances out there again , I think as I’m dragged along behind Ben towards the west side of the compound, anything is better than here, even if it means starving to death. He lets go of my arm as he enters the bathing room. When I say bathing room, it’s just an old toilet block with a couple of buckets of cold water lined up in the corner, with rags to wash yourself as best you can. Only the best for survivors of the apocalypse. Ben orders me to stand in the corner while he undresses and thankfully forgets to order me to leave my weapons at the door. Seems like he’s in a rush.

I take the opportunity to quickly examine myself in the scratched and broken mirror. Fearful, sea-green eyes meet my stare underneath pale eyebrows that are in desperate need of some tweezers. My pale gold hair is lank and a bit matted, darker in color than it used to be when shampoo was available. It hangs over the swelling on the right side of my face, making my skin itch. I’m lucky my right eye hasn’t closed over, I’ll need my vision tonight. My arms are a patch work of scars and wounds, both new and old and I know without looking most of my legs and torso would be the same.

I quickly scan down my body taking stock of my condition. It’s not good. I do have more weight on me now than when I came here, but not by much and I think most of the weight is lean muscle. Underneath my threadbare dark blue shirt, I know my ribs are visible, my stomach is sunken in and my loose, dark jeans are tightly belted around my bare hip bones. Before the apocalypse I hardly knew what a thigh gap was, and God knows I could never achieve one. It’s not that I was fat, I just liked food. I used to be an average girl doing her best to work off her chocolate addiction. What I would give to have my thighs touch now, I think as I pull my eyes from the depressing image in front of me. At least I still have my boobs I add, glumly, trying to cheer myself up. It doesn’t work, it’s honestly just a pain in the butt to have big boobs in an apocalypse, finding a supportive bra is near impossible. It’s why I guard mine so closely, thanks, likely dead washing line lady I think to myself the girl might have a thing for lace panties, but she knew a good, supportive sports bra when she saw one .

I’m trying to lose myself in my inner monologue of breast complaints, so I don’t have to look at Ben. He’s handsome enough, but the sight of him makes me want to vomit and stab something at the same time. I risk a glance over at him to see he’s just finished washing most of the grime of his trip off and he’s looking my way.

“Pity about your face, Lacey” he says as he comes over to me, stark naked. “Don’t worry though, I can give you something else to think about”. I keep my eyes on the ceiling, watching the light fade through the skylight and try to control my ragged breathing. Everything hinges on the element of surprise, I can’t blow this, I only get one chance. He closes the distance between us and reaches up to touch my injured face. I flinch slightly and he smiles as he digs his fingers in, just enough to cause a bite of pain. Nothing new there, he loves a bit of hurting, it gets him off, I think. “Look at me!” he demands, and I force myself to loosen my muscles as I grit my teeth, running over everything David’s ever bothered to teach me. Silently weighing up how fast I can pull one of my knives and cut his throat… if he will make a sound when I do . That thought’s enough to let me draw in a deep breath as I bring my eyes down to look into his heartless, chestnut eyes. I do my very best to look at him like I’m not about to vomit on his bare feet.

“Strip for me Lacey, like you used to” he breathes the words into my face, I flinch away from his breath, and he grins. I take a deep inhale and cast my eyes to the ground, showing him that I’m giving in. I can practically feel his slimy smile as he relaxes completely, getting ready for his favourite show. I begin by slipping my bow and quiver of arrows from around my shoulders. I let them fall to the ground with a crash, wincing slightly at the abuse of my favourite weapons.

“Look at you, so fierce now with all your weapons” Ben breathes, a sneer evident in his voice “but you’ll always be my toy, Lacey. Don’t you ever forget that. You’re nothing. Just a whore that dresses like a warrior. Tell me Lacey, what are you?”

I know the answer he wants; he’s asked this question many times before. I just can’t seem to get the words out this time. I struggle but eventually mutter the words he wants to hear “A whore. Your whore, Ben” I say through gritted teeth. Only, I’m not. Not anymore, you fuckwit. I am a warrior now. I’m not just pretending.

Ben smiles at my words, oblivious to my thoughts, and reaches out to run a hand over my breast. “Good girl.” He purrs, then gestures for me to continue stripping.

I bend slightly as though to take off my flimsy shirt but instead I grab one of my blades. I push myself to move faster than I’ve ever moved before, using every ounce of lean muscle gifted to me by David’s brutal teachings. I lunge, pushing all my weight behind the attack, just like they taught me. I aim for his heart but slip and end up stabbing him in the stomach. Shit . He stares at me in shock, as though he genuinely never thought I would hurt him, his hands automatically clamp around the weapon embedded in his abdomen. He draws in a shaky breath, and I use my other blade to slice open his throat, the thought of him calling for help making me faster than I thought possible . Yay, adrenaline . I watch him bleed onto the floor, kicking feebly, a horrible gurgling noise sounding from his open throat as he tries to call for help… and I take a step back, out of reach of his pooling blood and weakly flailing arms. I stare numbly at him as he eventually goes limp, and I try to muster up some feeling of remorse, of guilt, anything other than a fierce sense of satisfaction. I can't. I guess whatever part of my conscious that thinks killing bad people is wrong has left the building. I’m ok with that.

I yank my blade from Ben’s dead body and stab it into his eye, giving it a sickening twist, just to be sure he’s not coming back. I briefly consider cutting off his dick and jamming it down his throat, like I used to fantasize about doing when he had me in his room, but that would mean touching the disgusting little thing and that’s something I will never do again. So, instead I wander over to his discarded pile of clothes and use them to clean both blades. I rifle through his things and come up with a trove of weapons including a rifle and an extra handgun with ammunition. I check the gun over, a .44 magnum, before strapping it on my opposite hip and check my own weapons again out of habit. Everything’s there. I pocket the extra ammo. I choose to leave the rifle, his knives and the rest of his weapons behind. I already have everything I can carry. I glance over at the body and notice he still had his watch on. I need a watch, I think absently. As I crouch next to him and lift his lifeless hand I have the strangest urge to laugh, I think that might be a little unhealthy though, so I stamp the urge down and quickly strap the watch to my own wrist. It’s a bit big but I’m fairly sure it won’t fall off without me noticing, which is good enough. The blood stains mostly wipe clean on his shirt.

Checking the skylight, I see it’s nearly completely dark, I pick up my bow and arrows and sling them over my shoulders again, immediately feeling more comfortable. I hunker down in the corner and watch the darkness take over the entire room as Ben’s body cools on the floor. I run over a list of what I need to get so I can survive outside the compound and mentally map out where I am in the camp. I’m near the west fence, it’s only a couple of hundred yards away, and between me and it are a couple of hovels and about fifty yards of cleared ground. I could go left from the bathroom and scout out the hovels - but the king ordered everyone inside, and they would easily recognize me. If I go right, I will come to the building that houses the Knights, undeniably riskier, but there is the chance they will be patrolling the walls, waiting for the attack. I could hide in here and wait for the dead to distract everyone, but the longer I stay, the more chance someone finds me here with a naked, very dead, right-hand man to the king. Decisions, decisions .

It’s a long time later when I finally start to move, using my memory of the room to navigate quietly to the door. I have a couple hours until midnight, according to my new watch. I really hope the zombies move faster than Ben estimated. Once I have the door open, I stroll out like there isn’t a dead body jamming the door behind me. Nothing to see here people, everything’s fine . I reach behind me and push the button on the inside of the door to lock it. It won’t hold back the knights, but it should stop ordinary folk from stumbling across the permanently dead asshole inside.

I straighten my shirt and check my weapons before heading right, striding along like I’m meant to be there. I figure I’ll tell anyone who asks that Ben needed me in his rooms, but I really hope no one sees me. I’m just as surprised as anyone when I get to the knights building and I haven’t been stopped or challenged. I head in through the front door and make my way straight to Ben’s room. I see one knight, but I don’t know him, and he looks busy as he rushes by the candlelit hallways, so I doubt he even notices me fade into the shadows as he passes. I make it to Ben’s room and slip inside, closing the door behind me.

Ugh, I hate this place, the smell alone brings back scenes from my nightmares. I don’t light the candle by the door, I remember every inch of this place and Ben is, was, too clean to leave shit on the floor. I let my eyes adjust to the light from outside, enough to let me make out most things, anyway. I creep slowly to the old wardrobe at the foot of the bed, where he used to keep his knights gear and a fully stocked pack for long excursions. I swing the door open and stare blankly at the empty space for a few heartbeats.

“Fuck!” I whisper yell at myself. Of freaking course he took his stuff with him to scout, you idiot! I silently berate myself, still staring at the mostly empty closet where a fully stocked backpack should be hanging. That kid’s probably restocking it as we speak. It only now occurs to me that I might not be running on full steam. I left behind his rifle for God’s sake! I’ll blame it on a concussion from the brutal blow Jacob dealt me. Maybe even the overload of adrenaline that’s been pumping around my system since my blade sunk itself into Ben’s loathsome guts. Yeah, that might have something to do with it too.

Oh well, nothing to be done for it now, I can’t go back and get it, and I’ve made it to his room without drama, I might as well take what I can find. So, I start to feel through the remaining items in the closet, using touch to figure out what’s what. I find two candles and a half box of matches as well as an undetermined length of nylon rope and a candy bar, hidden in the furthest corner under an old hat. It’s not the full set of supplies I was hoping for, but it is a start. I straighten from the wardrobe and glance around, trying to find something to make carrying my haul easier. My eyes land on the bed and I stride over to swiftly remove a pillow from its covering. Perfect. I dump all my stolen treasures into the pillowcase and continue my search. There is a hard plastic water bottle next to the bed, like the ones people used to use when they went to the gym. I shove it in the bag half full. On the desk in the corner, I find a Swiss army knife and a marker pen, they go in the bag too. I hesitate at his clothing, I don’t want to wear anything that’s been on him, but thankfully common sense prevails this time and I hastily shove in two pairs of socks, an extra black shirt that will be far too large on me and a slightly moth-eaten green hoodie. My pillowcase bag is nearly full to bursting as I scan the room one more time in case I missed anything. I check my new watch in the limited light of the moon, I still have an hour and a half left until midnight. I can’t stay here because this is the first place they will look for him when he doesn’t show up wherever he’s supposed to be at midnight. And the first place they will look for me will be with the harem.

I feel a small, unwelcome pang when I think of the harem girls and how I won’t be able to keep them safe anymore. I squash that feeling pretty quickly. When did I get so sentimental ? Still, I kind of wish I could say goodbye. But that would mean crossing nearly the entire compound to get to them, it’s not a solid idea, I shouldn’t even be thinking it, so I push it aside and concentrate on where to go from here. I need a place close to the fence, a place where there will be cover while I try to figure a way to get through. Of course! I think excitedly, the West gate ‘market stalls’, where the poorest of this society go to trade anything they have for more food. It’s not regulated and has spilt over into the cleared area near the fences. It’s perfect.

I make sure everything is as I found it, minus the stolen items, before quietly leaving Ben’s room. I slip down the hall and down the stairs, making as little noise as possible, but no one is around to hear me anyway. It seems like they are already at the walls. Luck might be on my side tonight. When I’m outside I decide to stick close to the building instead of crossing through the open, it’s going to take longer, and look more suspicious if I’m caught, but I need to make sure no one knows where I went, just in case they find Ben before I’m out of here.

I creep along the buildings so slowly that it takes me ages to get to the West gate markets, but I’m fairly confident no one saw me. I only had one close call when a messenger boy went sprinting through the courtyard, towards the knight’s rooms. I’ve never been so on edge. I’m terrified I’m about to be caught. I make my way through the dodgy, rickety stands propped up around the market, until I’m crouched by the one closest to the fence. I’m so close I can nearly touch it! I’m just about to reach out to the fence when movement catches my eye. One of the knights moves into a patch of moonlight and sweeps his eyes over where I’m hiding.

“Did you hear that?” he asks the darkness sharply, and I swear I’m wound so tight I nearly reply ‘No’ but thankfully manage to keep my stupid mouth shut as his friend replies for me.

“No, didn’t hear anything. Reckon the zombies will even show up?” the other knight says from the darkness, sounding fairly worried.

“If course they’ll show up! Didn’t you hear Ben? He’s lucky to be alive poor guy!”

Heh, I mean alive wouldn’t be a word I used to describe poor Ben at the moment. I quickly cover my smile as I giggle on the inside. I’m starting to think I might have a serious mental health problem.

I check my new watch, but it’s far too dark to see the hands in the shadow of the rickety stall. Damn, how much longer?! Surely, it’s been over an hour since I left Ben’s room. I need these idiots to move. Now. My thoughts are making me anxious and I have to concentrate on not fidgeting and giving my hiding place away. I seriously consider shooting them as they continue to chatter for what feels like hours. It’s a little frightening that the only reason I don’t is because it will make too much noise. Instead, I crouch dead still and try to figure out a way to get over/under/around the fence somehow.

It’s not looking good and I’m starting to hyperventilate about my plan not working and what will happen to me if I’m caught, when I hear them. The unmistakable scream of tortured vocal chords that signals they’ve found something to eat, is echoed from across the compound. And it sounds like there’s a lot of them. I know if I were closer, I would hear the constant moaning that emanates from those that still have an intact throat, those that don’t usually make a horrific gurgling slurp. I shudder, it’s been so long since I’ve heard them, I forgot about the fear they inspire.

The knights both go tense and start whispering furiously to each other. I assume they’re debating whether to go help or stay at their posts, where there likely won’t be any zombie killing action, which means no reward. I’m silently urging them to go when the gunfire starts. It’s too much for the knights and they both take off in the direction of the action. Idiots. I waste barely any time getting to the fence, I run my hands over the metal affixed to it, looking for weaknesses and find none. I look left and right along the length of my prison, searching for anything that might give me a chance. In the distance I can just make out the dark mass of a bus, sitting right up alongside the fence. Jackpot. It will take me dangerously close to the zombies and knights, but it’s the only chance I’ll have. I pull a canvas covering from one of the stalls and crouch run as fast as possible toward the bus, desperately hoping everyone is occupied. I won’t have long to get over and I’ll be a sitting duck while I do.

I hit the bus and scramble up the hood as fast as I can, slipping and sliding on the windscreen, trying to stay flat on the metal. When I finally manage to claw my way to the top of the bus I pause to listen. The gunfire’s died down from the initial trigger happy onslaught. I risk a quick peek in the direction of the zombies and get a little transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of me. Along the fence line flaming torches have been set up, likely to lure the zombies towards the main bulk of the knights for an easier kill zone, and in their flickering light I watch the dead emerge from the tree line. Shuffling and dragging their limbs behind them, they are all in various stages of decomposition. Some look like they died yesterday, with waxy faces and dried blood covering their ragged clothing. Others look like they have been dead for a long time, their exposed bones shine brightly in the torch light. As I watch, a clump of flesh falls from one of the nearest, shortly before it reaches the fence, screaming and trying to force its arms through too small holes, its teeth gnashing at the wire before it’s stabbed through the eye by a knight. I shudder as I watch it fall limply to the ground, the knights making their ending look easy, but I know how hard they are to survive when there’s no fence to keep you safe. And I’m about to go out there with them, again.

I watch for a little while longer as the steady stream of dead emerges from the woods and are dispatched by the yahooing idiots inside the fence. They laugh and high five each other with every kill. I’m glad they’re having so much fun, it makes it easier for me to disappear.

On that thought I start to move. I scuttle back until I hit the fence and turn to throw the canvas over the razor wire. Once it’s over I check my weapons are strapped on and get a firm hold of my pillowcase pack, making sure the top is tied closed securely, I fling it over first and scramble up and over after it. There’s no soft landing on the other side and I let out a harsh breath when I hit the ground, dropping forward onto my knees. Pain jars through me and my sore body screams in protest, but I don’t have time to be gentle on myself. I heave up to my feet and grab my pack, I quickly look back to see if I was spotted, but the bus sits in my way. Of course, the bus is in your way, you just jumped off it! I groan at myself. Gods, I need to find somewhere to get myself together, I’m losing it. I shake my head a little to try and clear my thoughts, then I lock my eyes on the uninterrupted view of the dark tree line, and I realize. I’m. Free.