Storiesonline.net ------- Marla by carioca Copyright© 2011 by carioca ------- Description: Marla's just come off a double shift at the hospital where she works as an EMT. Before she left, she heard rumors of patients going crazy and biting people.... All she wants to do is take a shower and get some sleep, but her ex-boyfriend pounds the door demanding help.... Note,this story is marked 'Minimal Sex' It would be 'Some Sex', but the sex is not explicit (The story is tamer than the romances you can buy at walmart). I thought about marking it 'NoSex' but that doesn't fit either. Codes: MF mF rom non-con slave PostApoc horror zom span BD humil violent Mil ------- ------- Chapter 1 The pounding was barely audible over the rushing water. Marla ignored it and ducked under the shower head to rinse out her long black hair. Maybe whoever it was would go away. She'd just come off a double shift at the hospital. She needed a shower, food and sleep, in that order. She had to finish her anatomy homework before class the next day. Finished with her hair, she turned up the hot water and let the spray work the ache out of her back. There'd been a ton of emergency flu cases. Before she left, a rumor went around the hospital that one of the morgue attendants had been bitten by an angry patient. She moved away from the shower head, letting the spray hit her lower back. Whoever it was pounded harder. "Fine, I'm coming!" She shut off the water and slid the curtain open. Grabbing a towel, she wrung most of the water from her hair with it, then wrapped it around herself. She slid open the drawer in the table next to the door and opened the bag inside, just in case. The familiar checkered grip of her grandfather's Luger comforted her. She couldn't afford an apartment in a good neighborhood, not and go to school at the same time. She set the security latch and opened the door just a crack. "Marla!" The door slammed hard against the latch. "let me in, please, I need your car." It was Ray, her ex-boyfriend. "Mar-la," he whined and rattled the door. "It's crazy out here, you gotta help me." He was just the same, getting in trouble and expecting her to take care of it. "No, no more. Go away, or I'll call the cops." Enraged, he slammed his body against the door. The latch creaked ominously in the wooden frame. When he leaned back for another try, she slammed the door and shot the deadbolt home. The door bulged as he slammed into it again and again, alternately cursing and begging. Marla couldn't take her eyes off the door. She backed slowly to the table, picked up her cell phone and gun bag, then dialed 911. It rang and rang until finally a bored woman picked up. Ray's scream of fear and pain drowned out the woman's voice. "Get out here now, my ex boyfriend's gone crazy and he's trying to break in. Seventeen University Circle, apartment Four-B." She ignored the woman's nearly inaudible response as she listed to the thumping sounds outside her front door. There was a moment of quiet, then Ray wailed and pounded at the door with something. The wood splintered and cracked with each blow. Marla dropped the phone into the bag and pointed the Luger at the door with one shaking hand. The head of a sledgehammer broke through the door. As he twisted it free, she saw the blood smeared on it. He peered through the door. "You've got to help me, I need you." He was still whining, but would get ugly quick. The last time he'd needed a car payment and when she couldn't come up with enough cash ... well thats why grandpa gave her the gun. She lined the sights up on the hole he'd smashed in the door, her free hand tightly clenched on the bag. "Go away, the police are coming, and I have a gun." He hit the door again, widening the hole. "You can't send me away, I need you. You gotta help me." He reached in and flipped the security latch open, then rattled the door again. Grunting in frustration, he slammed the hammer against the deadbolt. The cheap pine frame shattered and the metal hardware flew across the room. The door swung open. Ray stood there panting, covered in blood. A small body lay on the ground next to him. The girl's blond hair was matted with blood and her pink nightgown was torn to shreds. She thought she recognized her neighbor's youngest in the small still form. Shocked, Marla hesitated. She never thought even he would ... But even as she watched him, he turned, hefting the hammer. One of the girls from next door, the ten year old, walked into view. She was covered in blood and wore only a pair of panties. Ray brought the hammer down on her skull and it shattered like a watermelon. Then he headed for Marla. She screamed, but not in fear. How could he? Getting carried away with her was one thing, but those girls ... She squeezed off a round, aiming at the center of his body. All the time she'd spent at the range paid off. He stopped, face white with shock. "Help me." he begged as she shot him again. His lips still moved and the pistol went off a third time. He collapsed to the ground The eight year old from next door staggered in, moaning. Her face was bloody, and one hand was a mess of mangled flesh and bone. She didn't seem to realize she was naked. Her eyes were lifeless and she moved in a series of unnatural jerks. She let out a feral snarl, lunged at Ray and bit off a piece of his stomach. She knelt by him and chewed mechanically. Marla watched in frozen horror as the little girl ate another mouthful of his still living flesh. Ray would have screamed if he could, but his lungs were full of blood that flowed from his mouth and spilled all over her floor. The light went out of his eyes. A moment later the girl looked up from his cooling corpse and fixed her eyes on Marla. She let out a hungry moan and lurched to her feet. Instinctively, Marla brought up the pistol and squeezed off two rapid shots. A small red spot appeared on her chest and another high on her forehead. Brains, blood and fragments of bone sprayed across the couch. The little girl collapsed bonelessly. Working as an EMT, Marla had seen a surfeit of ghastly injuries, but she had never caused them. She went to the door only to discover the kid's mother dead on the walk in front of her apartment. Bite marks covered her legs and arms. All she had on was an unbelted terrycloth robe. Why would they leave their house dressed like that? She nearly made it to the bathroom before her churning gut spewed its contents over the floor. Marla stuffed the Luger in the bag, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She'd better get dressed before the cops showed. Where were they anyway? No wonder this was such a bad neighborhood if they took this long to come out. Thump. She spun around at the noise, Ray was up on his knees, lifeless eyes fixed on her. She froze. He couldn't still be alive, she'd seen enough death to know. Yet there he was on his feet. He reached for her and an awful whining moan issued from his lips. He grabbed her and she twisted away, leaving him clutching her towel. She sprawled on the bloody floor. Half running, half crawling, she sprinted away from him and slammed the bathroom door behind her. For once she was grateful for her tiny bathroom, and its door that opened out, not in. He pounded futility at it with his meaty fists. She watched the door fearfully, shivering in reaction to the adrenaline. The pounding seemed to go on forever. After it stopped the pounding of her heart seemed just as loud. Finally she heard sirens, but they didn't stop, just faded into the distance. Gathering her courage, she slipped a fresh magazine in the butt of the Luger, and crept out of the tub to listen at the door. Nothing. She heard nothing at all. Looking around, she wished she'd done laundry earlier, Ray had her last towel, and all her clothes were in the bedroom. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she opened the door just a crack and looked out. Nothing moved. He wasn't waiting there to yank the door open. She stepped out into the hall. The bedroom door was half open, just like she'd left it. The kitchen was empty and the girl's body still lay on the floor in the middle of Ray's slowly drying blood. "Freeze!" "Gun! She's got a gun!" "Put the gun down, now!" The police, finally. "What took you so long?" she asked. "Put the gun down!" When she did, they tackled her, slamming her head down on the tiles, then cuffed her hands behind her back. She screamed as one of them put a knee in her kidney. "Why'd you kill those kids?" "I didn't." she gasped and struggled for breath. "Ray did." He slammed her face into the tiles and the world spun. He lifted her head to do it again, but his partner interrupted. "Leave it for homicide. We've got the murder weapons. We don't want her to get away with it because you roughed her up." His rough hands twisted in her hair, then he lifted her up by it. "Search her bag." She caught a brief impression of a thick-fingered dark haired man who felt her tits as he unbuckled the bag, then the world spun again and she was in the back seat of a patrol car. The cop held her in place with one hand and buckled her in with the other. "You know what they do to sickos like you in prison? I hope you find out." He turned away. "What you find? She didn't hear the reply, too numb to quite realize what had happened. The front door opened and the one who'd groped her leaned in. "Bagged and tagged. She had four extra magazines, good thing we stopped her when we did, open and shut case." He got on the radio, and talked tot he dispatcher. Marla stared past him and saw Ray lumbering towards them. "I didn't do it, he did." He turned, but looked at her body rather than at her eyes. "Everyone's innocent. So who did do it then?" "The guy coming towards us, the one covered in blood." He looked, cursed, and slid out of the car pulling his pistol from it's holster. "She says that guy did it." One of them yelled for Ray to stop. Marla couldn't see if he did, but assumed he didn't as they still yelled at him. They didn't seem to notice her neighbor limping up behind them. Ray came back into her field of vision and moments later they opened fire. Bits of flesh sprayed away from him where the bullets struck, but the only sign he gave that he felt it was a a series of jerks that ran though his body. Her neighbor reached them first and bit the taller one in the neck. He fell heavily against the rear door. Blood spurted from his neck and covered the window. His gurgling scream was awful. His partner's was louder, higher pitched and lasted longer, but it too died away. She kept as still and quiet as she could, hoping they wouldn't notice her. After a few minutes, the cops stood up and wandered around aimlessly. An hour later, all four of them chased a kid on a bicycle down the street. He outdistanced them quickly, but they followed him anyway. Another group of them surrounded the old couple from the next building over and tore them up badly. They came back as well, but his body was too badly damaged to stand and she had only one arm. By nightfall, hundreds of them had passed by. She couldn't get the cuffs off. She couldn't even get the seatbelt off, no matter how hard she tried. When she was a kid, she could move cuffs from back to front, but she couldn't do that strapped into a seat. She was thirsty. She had a headache and probably a concussion, and with the sun down it was getting cold. All she could do was stare at the keys in the ignition but it was hopeless. If she couldn't even get out of the seatbelt how could she get past the wire mesh that divided the patrol car? Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep, interrupted by screams and gunfire, both real and imagined. ------- Chapter 2 She woke with a start and found that her nightmares were real. Her body was cold and stiff, her head pounded, but worst of all was her dry mouth. It only got worse as the day wore on. Outside was a nice spring day, as nice a day as you could have with dead people walking around and eating live ones. She saw three more people die, and hundreds of dead ones wandered past. Inside the patrol car, the temperature soared into the nineties. Marla tried to sleep to conserve her energy. surely someone would come after the cops, she could last another day, maybe even two or three if she kept calm and saved her energy. She closed her eyes and mentally ran down the list of human bones. She dreamed Death. He held out his hand to her. Cool moist air blew from the river Styx, one mouthful and she would forget everything and everyone, but she was so thirsty. He looked at her, his eyes glowing red spots in his skull face. "Come on." He beckoned to her with his skeletal hand. One drink and she could forget about the cramps in her thighs and gut, the biting pain in her wrists, and the needles stabbing into her head. "Come on." Thump, thump. Death had a Spanish accent now. "Chingada arma!" Thump. "Got it, Gracas a Deus!" He faded away as the sound of a shotgun racking brought her awake. The car was running, moving slowly, and blessed cool air flowed from the air conditioner. The driver admired the shotgun he'd pried free from the rack and swerved around a cluster of walking dead. He lay the weapon on the seat, and dialed a cell phone. Cursing, he clicked it shut again and tuned a corner, accelerating. He wasn't a cop, she was pretty sure of that, but he was alive. She tried to talk, but only managed a hoarse moan. He twitched at the sound and sideswiped an SUV. Then he over-corrected and narrowly missed a cluster of zombies milling under a streetlight. They skidded to a stop as he scrabbled for the shotgun. His face was young and scared in the light from the street lamp. The weapon was awkward inside the car, he had trouble bringing it to bear. Marla dodged as much as she could, leaning over to the middle of the seat. She yelled "No!", but it came out as a dry croak. She tried again, with slightly better results. The car, still in drive, drifted forward and knocked over a zombie. They were attracting a crowd. "Drive," she whispered, "get us away from here" He took a good hard look at her, his gaze lingered on her breasts and crotch. "You got it mamacita, I'll take you back to my place." He gunned the engine, hopping up onto the side walk, and running down a couple of walkers. The car thumped over their bodies, swerved back onto the road, and sped away from the gathering crowd. He looked at her in the rear view mirror, a malicious smile in his eyes. They drove down a street without power. He stopped at the corner, then turned the car to shine the headlights on a shattered storefront. He cursed in Spanish, and peeled away down an unlit side street. Marla had no idea where they were. He pulled up in front of a corner drugstore and killed the engine. "Stay right here mamacita" he said. "Let me out." She croaked. It hurt her throat to talk, either he didn't hear her or he ignored her. She struggled frantically to get free, but it was useless. She was weaker than she had been, and she still couldn't reach the buckle. She sat in the shadows, afraid and alone. He had been gone far too long. A group of the dead shambled past, they could have followed the car, or they could just be wandering. She'd seen them the day before wandering aimlessly. If they heard a noise they would follow it. Loud noises like screams or gunfire really got their attention. They seemed to be attracted to lights as well. She kept very quiet and they shuffled past, not paying for any attention to her or the patrol car, headed for the lights shining on the next street over. The door opened and she jumped, terrified until she saw his face again. The soft glow of the dome light made the boy look much younger than she thought he would be. He was probably only fifteen or sixteen. Gang tattoos were visible under his grimy white tank top. He took a good long look and smiled broadly. "Come on out, chica." He opened the front of the car and loaded shopping bags from the sidewalk onto the front seat. When he was done he came back and told her to get out again. The look he gave her made her feel dirty all over. She tried to explain why she couldn't get out, but he didn't pay any attention, just grabbed her breast with one dirty hand and pulled hard. She grit her teeth and kept quiet, not wanting to attract the dead. He tried once more then realized she was trapped. He hit the release for the seat belt and pulled again. Her legs were stiff and numb from sitting in one position so long. She fell out of the car and hit the sidewalk hard, scraping off skin. She yelped, biting her lip to keep from screaming. He lifted her handcuffed wrists and used them as a lever to force her into the front seat. The world spun again. She was alone once more, but she wasn't strapped down and she was in the front seat. He'd left keys in the car. Ignoring the stabbing pain behind her eyes, she forced her aching joints to move. Bottles of prescription drugs spilled from the bags. Lying on her back on the front seat, she put her feet on the ceiling and eased her wrists towards her butt. Her body throbbed with pain as she slipped one hand then the other closer and closer to where she could bring them around to the front of her body. She was almost there when the door opened again. "Don' move puta." He looked at the keys in the ignition and glared at her fiercely. "Going to leave me behind bitch?" He slammed the barrel of the shotgun hard into the small of her back. Gasping with pain, Marla rolled onto the floor and curled into a ball. "Stay right there. If you get up before I tell you, I'll leave you with the dead ones." He leaned over and grabbed the keys then filled the back seat with cases of liquor. Then he was gone again. She could get out of the car, she was sure that. But then what? She probably wouldn't last an hour. And if she stayed where she was? It was obvious what he wanted her for. That was better than death, probably. Judging by the supplies he'd brought back to the car, chances weren't too good to with him either. He'd stolen a cop car, and filled it with drugs and booze. If he was part of a larger group it might make sense if he was looking for specific things. But if he was, why was he alone? A few minutes later she heard a flurry of gunshots close by. He opened the door swearing under his breath in Spanish. He piled bags on top of her, closed the door and went around to the driver's side. As soon as the engine turned over, he gunned it for all it was worth. His phone beeped. He flipped it open, scowled at the screen, then punched buttons while he drove one handed. Twenty or maybe thirty minutes later, he pulled the car to a careful stop. He unloaded it quickly, stacking the cases, then piling the bags beside them. That done, he grabbed her hair and pulled, not hard but insistently. "Come out, and keep quiet." He'd parked the patrol car halfway through a gate, effectively sealing off a small yard from a residential street. Grinning, he led her to the door of a townhouse, unlocked it and pushed her inside. "Party time, I got some stuff to make you real happy." It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, despite the moonlight shining in through the windows. She was in a kitchen. Marla walked unsteadily to the sink. She couldn't reach the faucet with her hands, so she used her mouth to move the lever, then sucked greedily at the flowing water. Even as she drank, she knew it was the wrong thing to do, but she couldn't stop herself. She ignored everything but the water until he shut it off. It was just as well, she was already feeling the effect of drinking so much after thirty plus hours without. He stared at her. Only now did she feel any embarrassment, before she had been too thirsty to care. She tried to keep her voice calm and matter of fact. "I needed that, thanks. Now how about you get these off me." He stared up at her, obviously he hadn't realized she was bigger than him. She wished she'd had the presence of mind to slouch or something. "Noooo, mamacita, I think I like you just the way you are." "What if they get in, you might need my help." His eyes narrowed and he flushed. "I don't need your help." He yanked a pistol from the waist of his baggy pants and held it sideways pointed at the door. "They try to bust in here, and I'll cap them like that one outside the drugstore." One? He'd emptied a magazine at it, but if that was how he aimed he was lucky to have hit it at all. She leaned against the counter, stomach churning. "You have anything to eat? Let me loose and I'll cook you some food." "Don' think you understan' yet puta, I own your gringa ass now." He jabbed her ribs with the pistol. "Get on your knees." She was having trouble staying on her feet anyway, so she slid to the floor. The tiles felt cool on her legs and butt. She leaned back against the cupboard, nauseated. He exposed himself to her, he was smaller than she thought he would be. "Eat me." His voice came out in an adolescent whine that reminded her of Ray. She giggled and he wilted. That made her laugh out loud. "Go ahead and shoot me kid, but if you stick that in my mouth I'll bite it off. I haven't had anything to eat for two days. Besides, everyone seems to be doing it lately." He flushed and cursed vilely, but there was fear in his eyes. He lashed out with the weapon and the barrel struck her temple. She fell over, blinded with pain, but still couldn't stop laughing. He grabbed a bottle of vodka from one of the cases, and stormed off. Gradually the laughter died away, giving way to occasional snickers. The cool floor soothed her swollen legs, and laying down helped her stomach. The dead walked the earth, but still the only thing teenage boys could think about was sex. Marla listened to him move around the townhouse. He was upstairs, walking around. Occasionally, he hit something or cursed. Then he was quiet, she hoped he was asleep, but all to soon he was on the move again. He walked none too steadily into the kitchen, bottle half empty. He leaned against the wall and took another swig. He was trying to look macho, but it came across as sulky. Marla snorted. "That's not going to make it big again." It was a stupid thing to say, and the rational part of her mind knew it. He threw the bottle at her, but missed, bouncing it off the counter and against the wall. He screamed at her in Spanish, and pulled a chain from his pocket. "You think you're wild gringa? I'm hombre enough to tame you." He dangled the metal leash threateningly, and approached her slowly, grinning. She kicked him in the balls, but unfortunately she was too weak to make it count. He doubled over in pain and backed off, but came in swinging the chain. The first swing missed, but the second caught her calf raising a welt. The next caught the thigh of the same leg. He hit her twice more after she'd curled into a ball trying to avoid the slicing chain. He jumped on her and looped it around her neck, then pulled back hard cutting off her air. "You gonna act like a bitch, I'm gonna treat you like one. When I'm done with you, you're gonna beg me, gonna beg me to let you suck me off." He eased up and she gasped for breath. She heard him rummage though the bags on the counter. He fumbled with a bottle and pills spilled on the floor. She thought she recognized them, but wasn't sure. He hauled her to her knees by the leash and stuffed some in her mouth, then held her nose while he poured vodka down her throat. He hadn't given her enough to kill her, but mixed with alcohol she'd be out soon, especially as dehydrated as she was. The idiot took a couple himself, he probably thought they were something else. "Lets get this party started." His voice was already starting to slur. He felt her breasts, then ran his hand down between her legs. "Shaved clean, you are wild, but I'll break you." He frowned, "How come you ain't wet? Don't you like men?" The whine was back in his voice. "I bet you like chicas, but I'll teach you, show you what a real man is like." He pushed her back to the cupboard, ran the leash between her arms and fastened it to something behind her. He put his hand back between her legs and tried to get his finger inside, he couldn't even find the right spot. The alcohol and drugs were already getting to her and finally her stomach revolted. She puked all over him. He looked at her like a confused little boy. Vomit dripped from his greasy hair. "Thats ... Ulp" He bolted from the room, but she heard him vomiting. He went upstairs. Experimentally she tried her bonds. The end of the leash was out of her reach, and she couldn't stand with it attached. Leaning on the leash to try and pull it free cut off her air but got no other result. She was so tired. She closed her eyes, just for a moment... ------- Chapter 3 A phone rang somewhere. Marla's arms hurt when she tried to get up and answer it. Her head hurt too. She opened her eyes, saw the kitchen, and remembered the night before. The ringing stopped. In the silence, she heard a scream in the distance, then faint moans. Not long after, a car started and drove away. The phone rang again. This time she heard some noises from upstairs. Footsteps thumped down to the living room. When he picked up the phone she couldn't quite make what he was saying. He came into the kitchen, still on the phone. He opened another bottle of vodka and took a long pull. "You been out there esse?" He paused and listened while he took another swallow. "Then you know what I'm talking about. I got the stuff you wanted, I picked up something for me to. Here, take a look." He pointed his phone at her, it beeped once, then again. His eyes gleamed with malice and resentment as he pressed buttons, then spoke into the phone again and "What do you think? No, I ain't sharing. No, I found her, she's mine and I want to break her in before I lend her to anyone else." He peered out the kitchen windows and frowned. "Yeah I can make it, but it'll take a couple of hours to get everything." Marla saw fear in his eyes, and his voice changed to a whine. "Right, right I'll be there as soon as I can." He snapped the phone shut. "Puta, you stink. Come on baby, bring me off and I'll wash your back in the shower." Marla looked up at him, disgusted. She'd actually been a little turned on, before he opened his mouth. It was a natural reaction, near death experiences made people horny, and you couldn't come closer than what she'd been through. Didn't he realize that she'd heard his entire conversation? If she satisfied his desires, he'd pass her around like a party favor. "How about you let me out of this, and I'll watch your back while you get whatever is they want." His eyes darted to the window, then hardened. He'd realized she knew he was afraid. "I like you just the way you are, I just don't like the smell." He untied her from the cupboard and led her to a bathroom on the first floor. He pushed her into the tub then tied the leash to the shower head. "Wash up Puta, I'll be back." The warm water felt good on her abused body. If he was willing to let her shower, she wasn't going to leave herself reeking of vomit just to spite him. She swallowed mouthfuls of water making sure she didn't drink too much too fast this time. Instead of showering, they should probably be filling every container they had with water. She let the water pour through her hair. It shut off suddenly, and he untied her from the shower head. She stepped out of the tub. Startled, he backed up and covered his nervousness with anger, yanking on the chain. "Heel Puta, I've got the kitchen fixed up real nice for you." He'd spread a blanket on the floor, a large bowl of dry cereal sat next to it. He ordered her to lie down on the floor, head next to the metal mixing bowl. He tugged on the leash and tied it to the cupboard, then twisted a rope around the handcuff chain and tied it around her neck. He patted her butt, squeezed it, and said " You be a good girl now Puta, papa will be back soon. ------- Chapter 4 It was getting dark. The cereal was half gone and the water pressure had died alarmingly. Marla had managed to get the plug in the sink and filled it, so she had that much. The rope tight around her neck prevented her from moving her hands in front of her body. With her hands behind her she couldn't undo the chain. The cupboards and drawers she'd managed to open didn't hold anything she could use to free herself. She'd tried using her body weight to yank the leash free, but all she'd managed to do was make herself pass out. She still heard occasional gunfire, and once there had been a scream quite nearby. Twice, cars drove by on the street. She could see them out the window, but if they saw her, they didn't stop. Both cars were trailed by groups of walking dead. They didn't seem to notice her either. Reluctantly, she gave up trying to free herself. In the morning, she might not ache quite so much, and she could try again. She was safe enough for now. Besides, he might come back and let her out. It was ironic, her desire to be held had only increased as time wore on, but she doubted he had the willpower to make her beg for him. If he had been more of a man, he could have just taken her. It wasn't like she'd been in any shape to do something about it. But if he'd been more of a man, he wouldn't have had to. If he had shown her any consideration, she probably would have been grateful enough to do what he wanted. She would have died of thirst if he hadn't come along. A deep cleansing breath helped ease her anxiety. Stressing about possibilities wouldn't help her prepare for them. She didn't have energy to waste on might-have-beens either. What she needed to do now was rest, recover as best she could from dehydration and her injuries. Every advantage she could give herself would be needed if she was going to get out of this situation. It was getting dark. The streetlight and full moon the night before had provided plenty of light in the kitchen, She was glad he hadn't left the lights on. Marla lay down on the blanket, and gripping it with her hands and feet, rolled to cover herself. Despite the furnace, it she had been cold the night before. She would have to watch herself, Stockholm syndrome was kicking in, she was grateful he'd given her a blanket. Sleep was a long time coming. The shuffling of the dead on the street outside unnerved her, and her imagination ran wild every time she heard a car or burst of gunfire. Bright sunlight woke her. Her headache had dulled, a good sign, but her arms ached. The street behind the house was deserted. No, not quite, a blood covered boy wandered aimlessly at the edge of her vision. She stretched out as best she could, then made another attempt at freeing herself. The end of the chain was tied to wooden beam over the sink, much too thick for her to break just by pulling on it. At least not with only the pressure she could exert with her neck. Laboriously, she climbed onto the counter top. It was hard to get to her feet with her hands tied the way they were, but eventually she made it. Straddling the water filled sink on tiptoe, she reached as far up as her bonds would allow and barely managed to snag the chain with her thumb. From there it was a simple matter to grab the chromed metal links with both hands. Marla leaned her full weight against the chain hoping to feel some give, but nothing. She bounced a few times and was rewarded by a slight creaking. She just might have a chance. She bounced harder, and felt at least a little movement. Then her foot slipped, sliding into the sink. The shift put more of her weight on the chain, more than her fingers could support, and she fell forward, only to be brought up shot by the leash just before she hit the tile floor. Gasping for breath, and blinded by pain, she inched back towards the wall until the choke chain eased around her neck. From far away she heard pounding, like a metal drum, accompanied by the moans of the dead. The noises increased in tempo, then faded to occasional bangs. Hours later, or was it only minutes? She staggered to her feet. They gathered outside the cinder block wall that enclosed the tiny backyard of the townhouse. One banged listlessly on the metal gate, while another vainly struggled to climb the wall. Another half dozen milled around, apparently uninterested in the house itself but drawn by the efforts of the others. Had she screamed when she fell? She didn't remember doing it, but she might have. They also might have seen her. Standing like she was, it would be hard to make her out past the glass, but she had been right next to the window, illuminated by the sunlight streaming in. Well, she wasn't eager to try it again quite so soon anyway. Better to wait until dark, or at least until the sun would be in the eyes of anyone looking in the window. Time for some breakfast, dry cereal and water, infinitely better than what she'd had yesterday. Things were looking up. She stifled a giggle. It was all the funnier because it was true. Full, she spread out the blanket with her feet, then lay on it and tried to relax. She could use more rest. She managed to doze a little but real sleep eluded her. When the townhouse's shadow was over the backyard wall, she tried again. At least she didn't fall this time. She couldn't untie the leash with her teeth, nor could she reach it with her feet no matter how hard she tried. By nightfall all the food was gone. Marla refilled the sink, there was still water, but only a thin trickle, and stared out the window into the darkness. The streetlights still burned against the night sky, windows in some of the houses were lit up as well. She thought there were survivors in the last house on the left. She watched hardly daring to breathe and saw them again. She couldn't quite make them out, but they didn't move like the dead. The dead noticed them as well. They clustered at the back gate of the house. Something stirred them up, and they pounded on the wooden slats. Ten minutes later, the gate fell with a crash and they stumbled over it. Moments later she caught sight of them again. They surged up the porch and hit the door hard. Light burst out as the wood around the latch splintered. A scream rang out, it rose in pitch then cut off quickly. More of them shambled up the street towards the house. She shuddered as they stumbled up the porch and into the light, then turned away, sick. She knew what was happening. Moonlight gleamed off the stainless steel sink and appliances on the counter top. Hours later, she realized that she'd missed something. The moon no longer streamed in through the window, but the streetlights provided enough light for her to find it. Her fingers touched the serrated edge and she eased it out from under the toaster oven. The plastic knife felt too flimsy, but it was worth a try. After fifteen minutes her hands cramped with pain. She felt the edge again. The serrations were gone, worn smooth by the rope. Flexing her hands, she shifted position. It was hard to keep tension on the rope and saw at it at the same time. Working by feel, she pressed the thin plastic blade against the notch in the rope. She might be a third of the way through, or just a little more. She sawed until the cramps stopped her again, then rested. If she could only cut the rope, the rest would be comparatively easy. Headlights illuminated the kitchen wall as someone pulled up on the street outside. The sheet metal gate rumbled open. She slipped the knife under the edge of the cupboard and pretended to be asleep. He stumbled in then fumbled with the deadbolt until it clicked. "Hey Puta!" He was drunk or high, probably both. "Papa's got a present for you Puta..." He flicked open a switchblade and cut the rope, then took the choke-chain off her neck. It was the chance Marla had been waiting for. She rammed her head into his jaw, and he fell over backward, stunned. She lurched to her feet and stomped her heel hard into his stomach. He writhed in pain, it knocked her off balance as she tried for his kidney. He wasn't as drunk as he looked. One of his steel toed work boots connected with her shin, drawing blood. She screamed and fell, then he was on her. In seconds he had her facedown on the floor, her arms shoved so far up her back they felt like they would break. "You're a bad girl Puta, you shouldn't do things like that." Something stiff and heavy wrapped around her neck. "But that's ok, your papa loves you and brought you a present." He locked the collar into place with the distinctive snap of a padlock. He ran a heavy chain between her hands and attached both ends to the collar, then hooked the leash to the chain. "You think about what you did, and after papa takes a shower, he's gonna punish his little Puta." He kicked her in the thigh and left the kitchen. He'd changed, and not for the better. He was harder than he'd been, and it wasn't just the drugs. Marla didn't regret trying, but knew her failure was going to cost her. He had brought the shotgun in with him, but no bags or anything that didn't fit in his pockets. The shower ran a long time probably because of the low water pressure, and her heart sank when it cut off. He came into the kitchen naked and looked down at her, eyes hard. He had a broad leather belt in his hand. "You shoulda come to the party, there was a sweet lil black bitch, she was quiet for a while, but then she livened up." He laughed, "Well we thought she had, but she couldn't take it and came back as one of them. Had to gag her, or she'd bite, but it was a wild ride." He seemed a little embarrassed at having told her, and his eyes glinted maliciously as he bent down over her. "But you were naughty tonight, I won't give you the treat I gave her. You're going to have to beg me for that. He grabbed her arm and twisted her facedown, then ran the belt across her cheeks. "Don't scream lil Puta, it brings the dead ones. If you scream, I'll gag you and you'll get double." He brought the belt down hard on her ass, then again and again until she sobbed with pain. But she managed not to scream. He rolled her over. "Good girl." His hand went to her breast and his fingers gripped her nipple. "What's your name?" "Marla." She sobbed. His fingers twisted, "Wrong bitch, your name is Puta, Now say it. What's your name?" He twisted harder and harder until she gasped it out. "Puta, my name is Puta." He let go and felt between her legs, "You're wet now Puta, I guess you like me after all." He whipped his open palm into her face. She saw stars and heard his words from a distance. "You're going to beg for me." He left her on the floor, burning with pain and shame. He was right, she was wet. It was all she could do not to moan when he felt her there. Before, she'd been in shock. That was why she'd been able to laugh him down. She had to get away, or he would break her. He came back with a handful of pills and forced her to wash them down with vodka. Then he went into the living room, leaving her alone and humiliated. ------- Chapter 5 A hangover was a distinct improvement over a concussion. The plug must have a slow leak, because after she drank as much as she dared, it was half empty. The faucet dripped occasionally, but the pressure was for all purposes nonexistent. It was still dark outside, even darker without the streetlights. The power wasn't for the whole city, the sky behind the buildings glowed with electric lights. She drank a little more water from the sink, and lay back down. Wrapped in the blanket, she was warm enough. Did he realize how effective what he was doing would be? Keep her weak, and in constant pain. Make her grateful for a thin blanket against the cold. Eventually, anyone will break, but under these conditions she didn't know how long she could hold out. It would have been better if he'd just raped her the first night. She knew in her heart that if she begged him for it, she'd never again have the nerve to escape. The power was out in the house as well, the clock on the microwave no longer glowed green against the darkness. Without water or power, how long would he stay here? Not long, he didn't seem the type to rough it. So he would leave, and because he wanted her, he would take her with him. New surroundings would bring new opportunities, and almost any change would be to her benefit. She could last another day at least. One more day, take everything a day at a time, just like her grandfather had taught her. Eventually she was able to sleep again, dreaming this time of him and the stories he'd told her as a child. By the time he kicked her awake, her headache was almost gone, but she was cold and stiff. He didn't look good, probably he'd drunk more after she'd passed out. He stared down at her with dull eyes for a long time before speaking. "You ready for me?" his voice was hoarse, with some of the whine back in it. "Suck me off, and you can eat." Her stomach panged when he said it, but one look at him was enough to put steel in her spine. He was doing it on purpose, had to be, but he was still naked from the night before. The skin around his crotch had turned a greyish-green. The veins on his penis and those leading away from it were traced in black. She didn't say anything, couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make her situation worse. He was dying. It was just a guess on her part, but she was sure she was right. It wouldn't do any good to tell him, he wouldn't let her go even if he believed her. Marla looked into his eyes in silent appeal. He looked away, "No food today, even if you do beg." then stalked into the other room. Moments later she heard him cursing. From the few non swear words he uttered, he had just realized the electricity was out. He went on for a few minutes, occasionally slamming things around, then stopped suddenly. A muffled thumping came from the other room. He ran upstairs and slammed a door, then didn't move for a long time. Eventually the thumping stopped. He didn't come down though. No food, but also no incentive for her to break today. Did he just want to weaken her? It really didn't matter. The water level in the sink had dropped again, so she drank as much as she could. After a while she drank more and used the empty mixing bowl for a toilet. There was no sense rationing the water, it would leak out before she could drink it all anyway. It might have been an hour later that at least four cars drove by the street out front. The boy pounded down the stairs and cursed as they passed on. He was quiet for a while, then talked softly to someone. He came in, phone in hand. He was dressed, but his feet were bare. "How about this place, what did Enrique tell you about it?" He rummaged through the fridge and came out with half a six-pack of beer. He gulped one down while he listened, then tossed it to clatter on the floor. "Sounds good, I'm in. I'll be there in an hour, ready to rock and roll." He hung up and swilled another beer. "Hey Puta, we're moving. Papa found you a new home up in the mountains." She didn't say anything. He glared at her, but it was him that looked away, flushing. He brought a bag in from the living room. His hands shook while he filled it with food. When he was done, he went back into the living room. The plastic bags clinked as he set them by the back door. He put his steel toed boots back on, drank the last beer, checked his pistol and came for her. He unhooked the leash, then undid one end of the heavy chain. He lifted her up by it, then held it low, keeping her off balance. He leaned the shotgun against the door frame, and opened the door. He picked up the shotgun and started down the porch stairs. Bent over like she was it was a moment before she noticed he'd pulled the car all the way in, and left the door open. A snarl came from the right, and two zombies came around the corner. He screamed and shoved her down the stairs, straight into their arms. She lowered her head and kept moving, ramming her head into one of their chests. Its cold hands grabbed at her but she was moving too fast. It fell over and she barely avoided stepping on it as she hurtled past. The shotgun boomed and he cursed in rapid Spanish. It boomed again as she hit the brick wall with her shoulder and spun around. The one she'd hit was back up, headed towards the sounds. The other was down, body torn by the shotgun blasts, but still it crawled towards him. Another was behind him, hands clutching his denim jacket. She only had eyes for one thing. The police car door was open. Marla ran for it, and bit her lip to keep from screaming as she stepped on something sharp. She tasted blood, but kept moving, ignoring the pain. Another walker lurched into the yard, between her and the open door. The boy screamed as the one behind him finally managed to bite him. He dropped the shotgun and reached into his baggy pants for the pistol. Marla ducked behind the walker. It didn't seem to notice her, attention fixed on the screaming, bleeding prey in front of it. Marla dived into the car, reached out with her toes and snagged the handle. Her grip held and the door swung closed with agonizing slowness. It clicked faintly, and she sat up. He shot the one biting him in the head, then fired at the one by the car. He emptied the pistol at it, at least ten shots, but he held it sideways, pointed down and to the right ... He might have hit it once in the body. He picked up the shotgun he dropped and fired it twice, and the zombie fell. Another blast nearly beheaded the one she'd run into. He ran for the car and she hit the door lock button with her nose just before he pulled the handle. He pointed the shotgun at her and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. She fumbled for the keys, expecting him to break the window any second, but instead he screamed. Her fingers found the keys and it started on the first try. She pushed the break pedal with one knee and strained for the shift lever. Somehow she managed to get it into reverse and the patrol car backed across the alley while he screamed. The crash jarred her back to the floor. Marla didn't have any time to waste, he might be there any second, or they might. She screamed as she shoved herself up on to the seat. Whatever it was was still in her foot. Blood dripped over her while she strained, feet on the ceiling, but finally, she got the handcuffs around her butt. From there it was relatively easy to bring her feet back past her wrists one at a time. They were still clustered over him when she sat up. It looked like the one he'd crippled had gotten him. The others had homed in on his screams. Her arms shook as she moved the lever to drive. It was hard to steer, and she didn't know where she was. She didn't have any idea where she wanted to go either, so she just drove, not knowing even what she was looking for. When she reached a clear stretch of road she stopped and pulled the shard of glass out of the heel of her foot. It bleed freely, but not dangerously. She sat on it to keep it from getting too bad, and drove away from the zombies that were drawn by the sound of the idling police car's engine. A couple of blocks later, she pulled into a deserted parking lot. The car keys were only that, car keys, not handcuff keys. The collar was padlocked on, but the heavy chain was only screwed on. It was too tight for her fingers though. A quick search of the vehicle didn't turn up a first aid kit or any tools like she'd hoped, but the evidence bag was under the seat. How he'd missed it she didn't know, but it gave her a much better chance. After some fumbling, she got the gun bag around her, strap running over one shoulder and between her breasts. It was hard to load it, and even harder to chamber a round. She had to hold it between her knees to do that. She dropped the magazine and scavenged another round from the partially empty one. The extra round in the chamber gave her nine shots before she needed to reload. She double-checked the safety, and tucked the Luger away. As she did, she noticed her phone, it had been in the bag. It glowed to life as she flipped it open, a quarter charge left. She had missed calls and messages both. The first was the hospital calling her back in to work, the next was from her mom, telling her to meet back home, meaning her grandma's house. That was a good idea, the patrol car had enough gas to get there, and there was a wall around the development. Then came the third message. Her mothers voice was shaky, "Marla honey, I hope you get this. I love you. Don't come home, it's not safe. They got your grandma, and they got me too. Stay alive baby, stay alive ... I love you." Nothing else. She turned off the phone to save the battery. Marla deliberately ran over one of them as she pulled out of the parking lot. If nothing else, she needed to get out of the city. The street she was a main one, all she needed to do was stay on it and eventually she would get to the freeway. It would have worked too, but there was a pileup at an intersection. She probably could have managed to squeeze by, but didn't want to risk the tires on the debris. Instead she backed up and went down a side street to bypass it entirely. She took the first left and crossed over into a residential neighborhood. A blue van coming the other way was the first sign of live people she'd seen. The driver stuck his arm out the window and waved to her, stopping to wait. She pulled up and hit the window button. "Hey Josito..." His voice trailed off. He was Hispanic and had the same kind of tattoos as her late captor. "What are you doin in Josito's ride?" Her foot slammed the accelerator to the floor, the squeal of the cop car's tires drowned out his cursing. In the rear-view, they turned and followed her. It would have been easy to outrun them, but it was hard to steer while wearing handcuffs and she had to slow way down to make the windy turns. They were right behind her when she pulled onto a main street. She floored it again, but nearly lost control when she hit a zombie. She went as fast as she dared, avoiding stalled cars and zombies both. Another gang member fired an AK full auto at her from the passenger window, but he shot it one handed without aiming and none of the bullets came close. She whipped around a burning car and saw too late what the smoke concealed. A Semi was jack-knifed across the road. She spun the wheel franticly to avoid it, aiming for the sidewalk on the far side. She almost made it. The wheels lost their grip and the car flew into the air. The airbag exploded. ------- Chapter 6 Something cold grabbed at her hands. Marla opened her eyes and screamed. One of the zombies was inside the car with her, another pounded on the windshield. She was also dangling sideways, held in place by the seatbelt. The one in the car snarled when she pulled her hands away and tried to squeeze farther into the car. She fumbled the pistol out. The extra magazines and her cell phone fell to the ground. The passenger side window had shattered in the crash, the car tilted crazily, leaned up against the cab of the semi. A breath in, half a breath out, aim ... and she put a bullet through its skull. The one at the window went crazy, pounding against the starred glass. She aimed at it, but didn't fire. It looked like the windshield would hold for now, only one at a time could reach, but there were others waiting to take its place. The car shook from more blows, there were others at the back window. The sun was going down, and she was already getting cold. She wrapped one leg around the steering column, then hit the release button on her seatbelt. Crouching on the asphalt, she picked up her things and climbed up to look out. There were at least thirty zombies gathered around. They went crazy when they saw her and tried to climb the bottom of the car to reach her. A shot drew her attention. A helmeted figure in camouflage ran across the street, followed by a few of the dead. He carried an M-16. She yelled as loud as she could "Help! Help Me!" and shot one of the zombies. She waved franticly and he turned towards her. Her foot slipped and she fell down onto the road. Cold fingers slid over her as one of them tried to grab her feet. She heard three quick shots, and seconds later, another. She scrambled back up, away from the cold dead fingers. The soldier walked slowly to the other side of the street stopping every two or three steps to fire. After every second shot, he looked behind him. Most of the ones around the car went after him instead. He wouldn't have time to shoot them all. She shot the nearest in the back of the head and most of them turned around again. The soldier stopped and fired twice from the same position. "Get on top of the truck." Instead she shot the one pounding on the windshield and the one behind that. Then she tried to climb out. She couldn't do it with the pistol in her hand. She shot another one, drawing them back towards her, then waited until he backed up a few steps and fired. She tucked the Luger away and tried again. Between the hand cuffs and the steering wheel she couldn't climb out the window. She might make it out the other one, but there were still some under the car. She yelled across to him, timing it for between shots. "I'm stuck." He said something she couldn't hear, then sprinted to the sidewalk. He shifted his aim away from the ones closest to him. The rifle barked again and again, then stopped. Eight more of them went down. The soldier ran back across the street, ducked into the gap between the vehicles and used the front wheel of the big rig to climb up on its hood. He swapped magazines and fired deliberately until they were all down except the ones under the car. He stepped across, one foot on the door of the patrol car, grabbed her wrist and lifted her out. He looked at her, eyes wide, then dragged her across the gap and pushed her on top of the cab. Scrambling up after her, he slung the M-16, jumped across to the trailer, and put out his hands. "Come on, there are enough coming to tip this over, we have to move." She jumped but didn't quite make it, barking her shins on the metal edge. He hauled her up and half carried her to the rear. The back of the trailer nearly touched a concrete awning. He hurried her onto it, then broke out a window with the butt of his rifle. He opened the blinds with one hand. "Looks clear, I'll be right back." He knocked the rest of the glass out of the frame and climbed inside. Marla looked out over the street, hundreds of them shuffled towards her, coming from both directions, drawn by the gunfire. The blue van was down there, it had rammed into the trailer. Someone might be alive down there, she didn't care about the gang bangers, but they could have taken other women. Josito had admitted she wasn't the only one. Her thoughts were interrupted by the soldier's return. "I'll help you up." He stuck out his hands and helped her in. The rough concrete blocks scraped her breasts and stomach. He helped her onto a couch, then pushed a desk against the door. The office had posters about credit repair and automatic bill payments on the walls. He tried the lights, but they didn't work, so he opened the blinds at an angle so the fading sunlight could come into the room, but anyone on the street couldn't see in. He dropped his pack on the floor and sank into a chair. He gently put his helmet on the ground after detaching a headset from it. His dark hair was cut short, sticking up just a little on the top. He keyed the mike. "Sierra-Sierra-Two-Six, this is Sierra-Sierra-Two-Three." He waited a while and tried again. Someone answered on the third try, Marla hear the squelch break, but couldn't make out the words. She looked him over. Young, probably younger than her, but not by much. He was big and strong, and not too out of breath. He checked his ammo pouches and as he did, she got a good look at his nametag. 'Eckert'. "Two-Six, I have forty-seven, I say again four seven rounds, One day food, two days water. I am in a secure location with one civilian. Pickup risk will be minimal if we use your vehicle, and a diversionary one." He nodded, but a frown creased his brow. "Rodger, I understand six-zero mikes." He flipped the radio off, stood up and looked at her. "What's your name?" She cringed at the echo of what had happened before. She looked down, afraid. "Marla." "Marla, you need to stand up, just for a minute, can you do that? I'm Jim Eckert." He reach out to help her up and she nodded reluctantly. He walked around her, looking closely at every inch of her body. She could have shot him before, but it was too late now. She was at his mercy. She blushed with shame, it was worse because a part of her was enjoying his inspection. To cover it, she snarled at him. "Taking a good look?" To her surprise, he wasn't angry or defensive, but he acted like he had every right to look at her. "Yes, but I'm not sure. Here, sit down." He helped her onto the couch again and went to his pack. She wrapped her hands around the butt of the Luger and nerved herself to shoot him. She just couldn't do it. She needed help, or the zombies would eat her. If the she had to be his property in order to live, well then that was a price she was willing to pay. But that was the worst possible, he was in radio contact with someone, that meant the military was out there somewhere. The most likely thing that would happen to her was a refugee camp. He turned around, looked at the pistol in her hands and nodded. "Good idea, we don't know what might be outside. The hallway was clear, but I didn't go out there." He shook out something camouflage green. "Lift your arms." It could have been a trick, but she didn't really care. If he wanted sex she would give it to him, she just wanted to be safe. She raised her arms in surrender. Everything blurred and tears filled her eyes. He wrapped her in something soft and warm. A blanket, a thin quilted camouflage blanket. She sobbed like a little girl. "Thank you, thank you." He wrapped his strong arms around her and stroked her hair as she wept on his chest. "It's ok Marla, you're safe now." She cried herself out, and fell asleep in his arms. It wasn't quite full dark when she woke up. She was wrapped in the blanket, and on the couch, alone. He sat at the desk, her pistol in his hands. A red led light taped to the wall illuminated him. She sat up, but was yanked back down by the chain around her neck. Hope died in her, but she'd willingly surrendered to him. He came over and gently undid the chain from the leg of the couch. "It's ok, I just couldn't leave you loose without knowing, and you looked like you needed some sleep." He demonstrated the snap link. "I can't tell by looking, are any of those bites?" She shook her head, "No, why?" He studied her for a long moment in the red light. "You really didn't know. Anyone bitten by them turns into one of them. I'm glad you haven't been." He looked away and cleared his throat. "Here's your pistol, full magazine, one in the chamber." He pulled up the lever so she could see for herself. She accepted it and checked the safety before she put it away. She held out her wrists to him. "Can you get these off me?" "I hope so." He opened the desk drawer and took out some paper clips, then moved the light from the wall and put it on his head. He tried for a long time, but they were too flimsy. "Can't we just shoot the chain? At least then I could use my hands properly." "We can try." She moved so he could get behind her and spread her hands as far as they would go. He put the muzzle right up against the chain and squeezed the trigger. She screamed as the muzzle flash burned her wrists. The bullet went straight through the couch, ricocheted off the cement floor and bounced off two walls before it disintegrated into a spray of fragments that peppered the blinds. Her wrists were still fastened together. "You missed." "Let me see ... No it just didn't break. It's bent though. Do you want to try again?" The insides of her wrists bled where the skin was blasted off. "No. We need tools I guess." He did have a pair of pliers and was able to undo the chain, but the collar was reinforced with steel cable and would have to stay. He dug into his backpack and brought out an olive colored packet and a clear plastic bag with something inside it. He put them together and added a little water. Seconds later, it was boiling. When he opened the green packet for her, it smelled delicious. He held the bag open for her so she could use the spoon. While she ate, she told him what had happened to her, leaving out the details. When she was finished with the stew, he spread cheese on dry crackers and handed them to her one at a time. She looked at him. "Aren't you going to eat?" Eckert looked into her eyes, "No, you need it more." He touched her lips with one finger, and her protest died unvoiced. "You need to get your strength back." He gave her a canteen of water to wash it down. "You need to clean up those cuts and scrapes, so they won't get infected." "I knew that." "You're a medical student, of course you did,. But you can't reach them all." His voice was firm. Did he just want an excuse to touch her? If he did, she didn't really mind. Besides he was right, she did need cleaned up and she couldn't really do it herself. "Alright," she agreed. He pulled the blanket off her and hung it over the window, then switched the light to white. He had a small plastic bottle of alcohol and paper towels. "This is going to hurt." "I know, I don't mind" He started with her feet and worked his way up. He washed her gently,. The water felt good, but the alcohol burned fiercely. Her nipples perked up, not entirely from the cold, and she was wet. She wanted him to take her, even knowing it was just a hormonal reaction, the urge was so strong, but when he was finished, he didn't do anything. He only he flipped the light back to red, and brought her the blanket. Marla stood and put her bound hands behind him. He had enjoyed it, she felt him pressing against her. She kissed him. He hesitated just a moment then kissed back. "You saved my life, let me show you how grateful I am." He stopped and pushed her gently away. "I don't think thats a good idea." Eckert firmly moved her back to the couch and tucked the blanket around her again. "You have somebody already?" "No, not really." "Then why not? You want to." He started to say something, but just looked at her. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch for a while." Eckert turned off the light and moved over by the window. He opened the blinds with his fingers and peered out. Disappointed, she watched him as long as she could, but she was safe for the first time in days, had a good meal, and a soft warm place. Marla's eyelids grew heavy, and drooped closed. ------- Chapter 7 "Marla, Marla." Death whispered in her ear. "Stop it, I'm here, you're safe." She screamed again and he jammed something in her mouth. It was soft and tasted like sweat. She lashed out at him, he felt remarkably solid for an animated skeleton. She didn't want to die, she had a chance now. She kicked at him, and her legs turned cold. He pinned her down, one hand over her mouth. She couldn't move, but she didn't care any more. The cloth in her mouth tasted bitter, salty, but it also tasted like Eckert smelled. The realization brought her back from her dreams. She quit thrashing and relaxed in his arms. He pulled the rag out of her mouth. "You change your mind?" she asked. "I'm willing, but if you want to pin me down I don't mind." It was too dark to see his expression, but his voice was husky. "You were screaming." he shifted his weight and sat on the edge of the couch. "There was some shooting, a mile away at least, and they started up outside." He wrapped the blanket around her again. "You're safe, I won't let them get you." "Don't you want me?" Her voice shook with emotion. "I," He hesitated, and gently wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Sergeant Mel, she explained it better than I can. She said we need to 'start as we mean to go on.' It was the day before yesterday." He waved at the window, his arm silhouetted against the blinds. The moaning of the dead had faded, but there were occasional far away gunshots and the sounds of shuffling feet. "What's happening out there changed everything, and some people will do anything they want because they think no-one will be able to stop them. If we don't start rebuilding right now, in a couple of years all that will be left of America is two legged wolves fighting over scraps of food and hiding from the dead. That's why we came back, we're evacuating everyone we can, up to Mel's place. That's why we're here tonight, you and me. The bus that could have picked us up took a load of school kids into the mountains. They've been trapped since Monday and were running out of food." He seemed to be trying to convince her, but she understood. "Triage. Help the ones who will die if they don't get help right now, Help the ones who can wait when you can." You made the ones you couldn't help as comfortable as you could without wasting resources, they were going to die anyway. "But what about..." He put a finger on her lips. "I'll get to that. Another thing she explained to us that how we act right now in these first few days is more important than at any other time. It's all new and we're feeling our way through it. Whatever we do the first time, we'll do the second because it worked. Like developing habits." That's what went wrong at the arena. FEMA had us take everyone's weapons away, so when the people who'd been bitten turned, there were only a few of us to try and stop them. Sergeant Mel got us out of there. So now, we check everyone who comes back, and everyone keeps their weapons. It has other dangers, but if we disarm everyone it takes us farther from America, not closer. That brings us to ... your offer. I didn't save you to be rewarded, it was my duty. If you'd been a guy or a kid, or a little old lady, I would have done the same thing. Anyone from my unit would have saved you. If I took a reward, especially one like that ... I'd just be another wolf. "That's why. You're beautiful, smart and brave. I want you so bad it hurts, but not like that. Don't say anything, just think about it. I'm sure you'll understand. In the meantime, can you take over?" Two legged wolf described Josito perfectly. She understood why he wouldn't want to be like that, but didn't quite get the connection. "What do you want me to do?" "Just keep an eye out on the street, and listen for anything unusual." "More unusual than dead people walking around?" Eckert laughed, "Exactly. We, haven't cleared out the building yet, so they might be on the other side of the door. That's actually the most likely place for them to come from. The way they move, I don't think they can get in the window." Marla sat up, the blanket fell into her lap. "I can do that, I'm not really sleepy, just kind of tired all over." He took his watch off and strapped it to her wrist. "We have a radio check scheduled at oh-six-hundred, so wake me up about half an hour before that." He helped her get her bag strapped around her, his fingers burned her body, and she ached deep inside. He tucked the blanket around her and lay his hand on her shoulder. Despite the darkness, she could make out his face as she squatted beside her. "If you have any trouble staying awake, wake me up. Promise me." His voice was firm and compelling, his touch sent tingles down her back. "I promise." He took her place on the couch, neatly stacked most of his gear on the floor and used his uniform jacket as a blanket. He didn't quite fit on the couch and had to curl up a little. Marla listened as his breathing relaxed into the steady rhythm of sleep. It didn't take even two minutes. Was it trust? Did wolves trust? Or did he count on her needing his help? Did she even care? She'd already surrendered to him, in her heart she knew that she'd do anything he told her. If that meant she'd joined a pack, so be it. The world she knew was over, a glance out the window would tell anyone that. Alone she was a dead woman, and it wasn't likely she would find someone better. The way he had taken out all those zombies was one thing, but the things he'd said ... She believed him, she didn't know how much of her belief was because she wanted to believe, but the way he treated her was a good sign. If she was wrong, at least she was better off than before. The moans of the dead on the street below reached her occasionally, so did distant gunfire. The mob below flowed one way, then the other, attracted by noise. About three in the morning, the roar of motorcycles echoed faintly in the streets, and she saw lights reflected in the windows across the street. The roars faded into the distance, and for a long while traffic on the street below flowed that direction. It was after five when she noticed that the clouds in the sky were lit up by the sun still below the horizon. She hadn't heard anything from inside the building all night. Her body was reacting to the constant low level fear, that's what she told herself, but it didn't help. Neither did touching herself. If anything that made it worse. She had lied to him before. Lied to Eckert and to herself. She hadn't offered herself out of gratitude, she wanted him inside her, needed his touch. Even if it was only an emotional reaction, the feeling was real. She walked softly to where he lay, one arm over his head, the other touching the floor. He was already hard. It took her only a moment to fumble his belt open, and little longer to undo the buttons of his fly. He woke up slightly as she touched him, but didn't wake up completely until she swung one leg onto the couch and impaled herself on him. He made no further objections. ------- Chapter 8 "Two-Three, stand by for Six." The responding voice was young and his voice broke. Eckert had switched over to speaker so she could listen, but he had turned it way down. They held their heads close together so they wouldn't miss anything. The radio had been answered promptly, they had been waiting for Eckert to call in. A female voice came over the radio "Two-Three this is Six. Sitrep. Over." Eckert was ready. "Secure, Half day food, two days water. Forty-Seven, I say again Four Seven rounds ammunition. One civilian, Female, age twenty-two, Medical student, one year experience as paramedic. Armed with pistol, nine-millimeter Thirty-two, Three Two, rounds ammunition. Civilian has mobility problem. Her hands are handcuffed in front of her, also no shoes. Over." She did have socks though, After he'd recovered from her attack he had rummaged up a spare set of green wool socks. She smiled at him, and he grinned back. "Two-Three, Try shooting the chain. Over." "Negative, we tried that, chain still intact and civilian sustained minor injury." "Roger, try and find some tools. We can take them off here if you can't manage it. What is your exact location? Over." Eckert read the address off some stationary, then described the building and gave directions from the nearest main intersection. "When can we expect pickup?" There was an uncomfortable pause. "Eckert, we have another two hundred civilians to recover today, they are out of food, and ran out of water yesterday. Their location is nowhere near yours." The implication was obvious. They'd just been triaged. "Check in at twelve-hundred and-eighteen hundred hours. Confirm, Over." "Six, this is Two-Three, Wilco." "We'll try and extract you tomorrow, but two hundred kids ... Eckert, remember you owe me a new truck. Six out." He turned off the radio. "A new truck?" Marla asked, "What's that about?" "The first time we met, I shot up her truck. She told me that when this is over I owe her a new one. What she means is that we'll be picked up." "You trust her?" He nodded, and put his arms around Marla. "I went with her to look for survivors, because we lost contact with the CP. She was just as cool as could be, but the thing is I know she was just as scared as I was. She just didn't let it show. She risked her life to save some kid she didn't even know. Rappelled down to get him and if she'd slipped there were thousands of them waiting for her. She'll come for us." She felt safe in his arms. "So ... what should we do while we wait?" She looked up at him expectantly. He seemed about to reply when her stomach rumbled. "I think we better eat, and then we'll see." He pulled out two MREs read the labels and put one back in his pack. "Last heater, this is the nastiest cold." When he opened it, the smell of eggs was wonderful. Like the night before, he held it open so she could eat, but this time she stopped after half. He didn't refuse, but opened a tiny bottle of Tabasco, dumped it in the packet and ate the rest. They split some kind of cherry cake, and a hard chewy brownie. He reluctantly packed the rest away. "We better save it, just in case." He looked out the window. "There's a shoe store across the street. Only a couple of walkers out there." He slitted his eyes, mouth set. "No, no telling what's on this side. They could be under the awning, and they'd see us on top of the truck. What else? Jewelry, hair salon, bank. Nothing useful. You need clothes, shoes at least. I'll check out this building, see what I can find. Make sure it's clear, maybe find some tools. I know you're anxious to get those off." "I don't know," Marla said. "I'm getting used to them, I feel kind of safe with them on, like everything will turn out all right. Especially now that you're here." She stood and dropping the quilted blanket to the floor. "But just in case, make love to me again. It might be our last chance." Eckert looked at her steadily. "This morning, why did you do it?" She dropped to her knees and unbuttoned his fly. "Because I wanted you inside me, I couldn't wait any longer. Yesterday I didn't say so because I was too embarrassed." She pulled it out, and took him in her mouth. He didn't even try to pull away. A minute later he pushed her down to the floor. The tiles were hard underneath her. It hurt a little, but that felt good too. Even better than the first time. After, she lay in his arms. "Its the end of the world." Marla whispered, "At least I'll die happy." Eckert pushed her away so he could see her face. His hands gripped her arms tight, tight enough his fingers left marks. His pupils were dark pools. "You're not going to die. You're safe now, but you have to be smart and stay that way." He kissed her roughly, biting her lip. She shuddered with the thrill of it. "You feel that? Alive. Help me keep you that way." She kissed him back and somehow wound up on top of him again. "Promise you'll keep me alive? That you won't leave me alone again?" "Marla, I promise. You're going to live a long time. We'll get through this. I'll clear the building, you wait here and..." He broke off at her tears. "What?" She clung to him, "You promised, you promised not to leave me alone." He pulled her close and kissed her gently. "Alright, you can come, but you have to do exactly what I say, no questions until we finish. I'll explain if I can, but we can't argue, not if we're going to make it." He seemed to be waiting. "I'll do anything you say, anything, just don't leave me alone again." He took a long knife from his belt and slashed the faux-leather fabric from the back of the chair. He folded it, cut it in two and poked holes at intervals. A pocket of his pack produced a green cord, he cut off two lengths and fused the ends with an old fashioned lighter. What he wound up with was a cross between sandals and moccasins. She could move in them and they offered a little protection for her feet. When she was ready, he put everything in his pack, and refilled his canteens from the water cooler. "This too," He pulled the blanket off her. "you can't hold it and fight." He folded it away, then put his pack on. "Ready to do this?" While she'd checked her pistol, he'd put his helmet on and slung his rifle across his body where it wold be ready if he needed it fast. He carried an odd looking hammer ready in his hand. "Whats that for?" "Good, this is the time for questions." He swung the hammer experimentally. "They're drawn to noise, shooting really gets their attention. This is quieter. If I miss, go ahead and shoot them, right in the head. You follow right behind me, no further than arms length away. I'll go slow. If I run, you follow. Don't worry about anything else, just keep up. If you see or hear something, touch me, then point. If there isn't time for that, go ahead and shoot. Any questions so far?" "Why did you pack everything?" "In case we need to run" He waited a moment then when she didn't ask anything else, continued. "There will probably be several rooms like this one, If they are locked we'll leave them for now, otherwise, you stay in the doorway while I check it out. You'll have to watch the hall and keep an eye on the room. When we finish upstairs, we'll check the first floor, and secure the doors. Right now, I'm going to move the desk. Cover me." Marla moved to the side while he slid the heavy desk. She kept the pistol leveled at the door in a two handed grip. Eckert swung it open, hammer ready. It was a waiting room, with metal and plastic chairs, pressed wood end tables, and fake plants. It was small and obviously empty. Still, she did what he'd told her, watching the room from the doorway until her motioned her to follow. "Perfect" he said in a low voice. The hall was dark and empty A small window at one end gave the only light. He stood very still and listened for a long time, carefully looking both ways. The door across from theirs was locked. From the sign it was an income tax accountant's office. Marla followed him down the hall, heart pounding. The corridor grew darker the farther away from the light they went. Stairs led down into total darkness. Eckert took a flashlight from his belt, and shone a red light down. They waited and listened, but nothing happened. He checked the doors on the way back down the hall. A law office, photo studio, title company, and something called 'Charity Funds Inc.' All of them locked. The men's room door opened under his hand with an alarming creak. It was pitch black inside. He stood in the door and used the light again. "Hold the door, and keep watch behind us." He checked the stalls quickly and they moved to the womens room. It was empty as well. When he tried it, the water ran for a few seconds then died to a trickle. There was another locked door near the top of the stairs. He peered over the balcony, then motioned her to to look. The stairs ran down in an L shape ending near a door to the outside. It had two small vertical windows in the top part. At one time there had been a receptionist for the building. A much battered desk sat in the L, two vending machines behind it. Eckert squeezed her arm and smiled at her, then moved forward slowly. Opposite the desk, a door led into an empty room with chairs arranged in a circle. Fliers on the bulletin board on the wall outside advertised times for Alcoholics Anonymous and other groups. There was another locked office, this one for a computer repair company, and a short hallway leading to a steel door. It had a push bar latch and a steel frame. Eckert took one look, nodded and headed for the front door. It had a push bar as well, and led to a small foyer. Mailboxes lined the wall on one side,. He eased through the door and crept to the outer door, staying low. She watched him as he peeked out the matching windows in that door. He came back and made sure the door clicked firmly behind him. "We'll check down that other stairwell, then the locked rooms." He dug out the headlight and put it on her, switching it to red. "Should have done this before. Lets go." The band was a little tight after he adjusted it, but she could light up dark corners just by turning her head. Back upstairs, they moved not fast, but not nearly as slow as before. The stairwell led to a small room with empty shelves, a wooden door locked with a padlocked and another steel door marked "Emergency Exit. Keep clear at all times'. The shelves were mounted to the wall. Eckert tied the push bar to them."I don't think those things can open a door, but just in case..." He moved to the locked door, pushed against it tentatively, and hefted the hammer. It took five swings to break the door near the lock enough to shove it open. The outer door thudded dully, the thumping came arhythmically, at least two of them were at the door. Eckert nudged her. He pointed to his eyes with two fingers, then at the metal door. Marla was able to contain the terror inside her only because he'd ordered her to do the job. The pounding increased, but died away gradually until only an occasional thump jolted the steel-framed door. Eckert slipped past her, carrying an eight pound sledgehammer in one hand, He gestured with his eyes and chin for her to follow him, but he stopped halfway up the stairs. Again he ordered her with gestures to watch the door. He left the sledgehammer on the stairs, motioned again for her to stay, and went back into the room. He walked on the balls of his feet, like a cat, quieter in his boots as she was in the moccasins he'd made for her. Another thump on the door jerked her attention back to to it. If enough of them were to pound on it, she supposed it might give, but there was a limit to how many could pound on it at once. The pressure of a few hundred might be enough, but it might not. Still, he was perfectly right, the less attention they attracted, the better. He came back with a lawn mower, then an armful of rakes, a pair of snow shovels, and a snow blower. He arranged them quietly on the stairs, and used lengths of orange extension cord to tie them into one impassible mass. He climbed up the outside of the stairs, holding the upper rail, until he was past the obstruction, then swung over noiselessly. Marla followed him up the stairs, and watched from the balcony while he used chairs to block the corner of the L. Only then did he lift the sledgehammer in an overhead swing that popped the lock off one of the vending machines. The crash echoed off the walls while the door swung silently open. He stood stock-still, waiting, listening, but there was no response from outside. He waved her down to the barricade, then silently filled his pack and passed it up to her. He pointed to the door of the computer repair company, then lined up for a baseball style swing on the doorknob. It popped open with a crash of splintered wood, and he hurried back across the foyer and waited. A dull thumping sounded on the back door. Another of the dead? Or one of those from the fire exit? No way to tell. Marla watched the door and worried while he went into the office. It seemed like he was gone a long time, but it must have been only a couple of minutes later that he came back, half a six-pack of cola dangling from one hand. The first office upstairs yielded nothing they useful, but it did offer them another view. The back parking lot was big, beyond it was an eight foot chain link fence and a car dealership. On the other side of that was a three story apartment building. A half dozen zombies wandered in the lot, at least twice that many roamed the dealership. Eckert pulled a small pair of binoculars from his breast pocket and studied the terrain carefully. He motioned her over from the doorway. "The parking lot is bigger than I expected." He nodded in the direction of the fire escape. "There might be a big store on that end of the building." He offered her the binoculars, but she shook her head. Eckert put them away, rebuttoning the pocket. There were lots of clothes in the photo studio, all for little children, but Eckert stuffed a black silk scarf into one of his many pockets. The tax accountant had a microwave and a fridge, which was promising, but it only netted them a half gallon of apple juice, a few cans of soup, and some condiments. In the lawyers office, he picked up a bag from underneath a desk in the outer office, grined when he opened it, and slung it over his shoulder with a sidelong glance at her. The last door was a janitor's closet. A mop sink, buckets, various cleaning implements and supplies including a big jug of bleach. A ladder led up to a padlocked hatch in the ceiling. "All clear," he announced in a normal voice. "What time is it?" She checked his watch, still around her wrist, "A little after nine." Less than two hours to clear and search the building. She was thirsty, hungry, shaky from constant tension, still aroused, and something else. "I need to go to the bathroom." "Good idea." He led her to the men's room. "Never pass up a chance to eat, sleep, or pee." Back in 'their' room, he barricaded the outer door with chairs, then the inner door with the desk again. She helped push the latter into place. "Why are we doing this? The building is empty." He peered out the window. "It might not stay that way. There's a few ways someone could get in without making much noise. I promised to keep you safe, remember? Anyway, i got you something so you wont be quite so distracting." He emptied the small duffel onto the table, and spread out the contents. A towel, tennis shoes, socks, biker shorts and a sports bra, along with a full bottle of Gatoraid and some energy bars and toiletries. The shoes were way too small, at least three sizes, and the sports bra would never have fit even if she could get it on, which she couldn't with her hands shackled together. But the shorts were stretchy enough that with his help she could get them on. They offered at least some protection, and she could move in them, but she sported a serious camel toe. He wrapped the scarf around her chest and tied it off. It provided a little support, but it was so sheer as to be nearly see-through. He also had turned up a black baseball cap. He helped her brush out her hair and run it back through the hole in the cap. Marla stood and spun in place. "What do you think of the new ensemble? I hear it's the height of fashion." "Um..." He grinned "I think it's more distracting, not less." "Good, why don't you show me just how distracted you are..." ------- Chapter 9 Most of what they'd gathered was candy, but rationed out with the rest they had a weeks worth if they didn't move around too much. If they were careful, the water would last twice that long. The maintenance room on the first floor had a thirty gallon water heater. The noon check was handled on the far end by a young girl. They gave her the updated sitrep, or situation report as Eckert had explained it. She didn't have any news for them, but did have a question. "Two-Three, has she delivered any babies before?" The question was so out of the blue that it took a moment to register. Marla nodded and held up two fingers. "Roger that, two babies." "Ok, I'll let Mel know when she gets back." There was a long pause. "Sorry, over." A new voice broke in, male. "Last calling station, what is your location and situation?" He sounded pushy and demanding to Marla. He repeated himself. After a moment he changed tactics. "Two-Three, what is your location? We can pick you up today." Hope flared, then died as Marla saw Eckerts reaction to the next transmission. "Two-Three, Answer me, This is Lt. Grose, acting commander of the third battalion." Another long pause. "Two-Three, I am giving you a lawful order. Identify yourself and give me your location so I can arrange an evac for you." Eckert's eyes turned hard. "Last calling station, Authenticate Bravo Sierra, Over." The Lt. Came back immediately. "What do you mean authenticate? I'm the ranking military officer in this area, report now." Eckert grinned at her, but kept his voice flat. "Sir you may be all you say you are, but until you can authenticate, stay off my net, break, Six, you have any more traffic for me it can wait until the next scheduled broadcast. Two-Three Out." He switched of the radio as the Lt. sputtered in anger. "I probably shouldn't have done that, but there is no way I'm going to report to that guy." Eckert said. "You know him?" Marla asked. "I know about him, and thats enough. If only half of what I've heard is true..." He shook his head. "If you want, I'll call him back and you can go wherever he's holed up. You have medical training, so he probably won't treat you too bad, but me, I'd rather take my chances walking than depend on him." "Don't hold back Eckert, tell me how you really feel." He laughed. "Don't you think you should call me Jim?" "Why Mr. Eckert, I do declare, we haven't even been properly introduced, why next you'll probably attempt to ravish me. Lands sakes, I do expect you'd leave bruises." "What I ought to do is turn you over my knee and give you a good spanking. Not properly introduced..." He said it jokingly, but there was a twinkle in his eye. She pretended he'd been serious. She'd always liked it rough, but being chained up for six days had changed her. In the old world she probably would have gotten counseling for what had happened, but in this world, where every moment might be her last ... She bent over his lap. "Oh please Mr. Eckert, I've been a good girl today, don't spank me ... too hard." He didn't spank her too hard, he did it just right... ------- They both got a little sleep that afternoon, and shared canned soup warmed up over sterno, chips and candy before the next scheduled call. The soup because it was heavy and they might have to run, the others because they had so much of it. The watch ticked to 1800, six PM. Eckert transmitted right on schedule. The kid who'd answered the first time replied immediately, "Two-Three, this is Six. Do you still have your SOI? Over." "Roger, Over." "Switch to Alternate one, ten, one-zero mikes for traffic, Confirm. "Six, I copy Alternate one, one zero minutes. Out." Marla halfway expected the Lt. to interrupt again, but Eckert switched off and pulled out a small book. "What's that?" She asked. "The SOI, Signal Operating Instructions. It has hard to break codes, frequencies to use, stuff like that." It was also stamped 'For Training Purposes Only'. She pointed that out. "Yeah, well thats all we had on hand. We really will switch to alternate one." He pointed out a handwritten section. "But we're going to shift forward by one day and back one letter, just in case. If he'd said 'secondary one' we would have done it the other way round." He explained how the book actually held ten sets of codes, each used three times in a thirty day month. He looked up the proper section and marked it, dug a pen and paper from the desk, and switched the radio to the correct channel. He waited out the time and transmitted. The reply was immediate. "Two-Three, this is Six, prepare to copy. Over." "Romeo-Alpha-Golf-November. Charlie-Foxtrot-Quebec-Papa..." He copied them down in four letter groups nearly filling a page, then read them back, letter for letter. He switched off the radio and started translating. Marla looked over his shoulder and read them as he worked. RAGN was Evac CFQP stood for vehicle. The message went on... Evac vehicle damaged small arms enemy action M S 1 3 Evac delayed 1 possible 2 days use S O I 4 location situation info keep commo schedule report C H A N G E only S S commo watch 2 4 7 emergency only reserve battery supply S S land line 5 5 5 6 5 4 3 prepare move on 2 hour warning day only S S unit evac over 2 0 0 civilian 2 day M O S T R 1 0 to 1 4 year recon U location avoid contact with enemy G O D watch over U 6 It took a while for here to puzzle out what it meant. "What are we going to do?" He shrugged, "We've got food and water. The building is secure. All the recon we can do while still 'avoiding contact' is look out the windows and count the dead. If we can't think of anything else to do, we can count up the cars over at the dealership." "I'm sure we can come up with something a bit more fun." Marla said. ------- Chapter 10 Some parts of the city still had power. The darker streets, like theirs, didn't quite empty, but with nightfall the dead had moved away, attracted to the distant lights. The street filled back up during the day Sometimes they seemed to be following the sounds of gunfire, but that couldn't explain it all. Marla sighed and looked away from the window. She'd woken up screaming again, she'd screamed until she realized Eckert held her in his strong protective arms. Death wanted her, came to her every night in her dreams. Only ... she didn't want to go with him any more, The river held no relief for her. His boat would take her no place she wanted to go. Her wrists were chafed and bleeding, it was the start of her seventh day in handcuffs. She welcomed the pain, it meant she was still alive, Eckert had taught her that. Watching him sleep, it was easier to believe he was only nineteen. She'd thought he was older than she was, just from the confidence he'd displayed in everything he did. And yet ... she suspected he was just as terrified as she was, but didn't let it show for her sake. The room blurred. She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried not to think about what would have happened if he hadn't shown up. What might have happened if the blue van hadn't crashed. If Josito had been a little quicker, or his aim a little better. If she'd been a fraction of a second slower when Ray came back. If she'd missed the dead girl, or hadn't had the nerve to use the gun on Ray. Marla peeked out the blinds again. Was anyone still alive out there? Not that she'd seen, but if someone had been watching this building, would they have been seen? She didn't think so. There could be survivors just across the street. There probably were survivors in the apartments. It had only been a week, there were hundreds of units in that complex, surely someone had the sense to lock their doors. Anyone that was still alive would be careful or lucky, probably both. Machine gun fire echoed faintly over the rooftops, she noted the time and the direction she thought it came from in the logbook Eckert had started. It went on for about an hour and finally trailed off about three in the morning. By then the street below was crowded with the dead. Drawn by the gunfire, they milled around the wreckage and trickled past using the gap underneath the awning. When it was quiet again, they left gradually, drawn back to the lights far down the street. She wrote that down as well. While she waited for dawn, she worked on a sort of diary Eckert had ordered her to keep. In it she wrote down all the details she could remember about what she'd seen the zombies do. How they acted when they weren't actively chasing someone, what they reacted to, everything. She'd already written down all the details she could on the gang, not what Josito had done to her, but what he'd taken from the store, his phone conversations, things like that. She suspected it was to keep her from brooding, but according to him, she had seen more of the zombies than anyone. She woke him the same way. While they were joined together, all the fear left her. Blood dripped from her abused wrists as she moved and tore the scabs open, but the pain made it better, she felt more alive. They nearly missed the radio check. It was brief, no news passed either way, just a request that they transmit a list of useful drugs during the next radio check. They checked the entrances, looked out all the windows and made notes. He took the time to study all the windows in all the buildings they could see, then had her look. No sign of anyone alive. One of her moccasins fell apart when they made their rounds after the noon check in. Eckert retied it for her and they finished their checks. Back in their room, he peered out the window for a long time. "What's your shoe size?" "Ten," The response came without thinking. A chill ran down her spine. "Why?" He didn't answer. "Why? Please tell me..." "There aren't any of them on that half of the street. I could get into that shoe store without being seen, pick you up some boots." "You promised not to leave me behind." "Cover me from the window." Marla shook her head. "Not with a pistol, and I've never fired a rifle like yours. Not sure I could like this." She clinked handcuffs together to demonstrate. "Don't leave me alone again, please. I don't think I could take it." "It should be pretty safe." distant gunfire punctuated his sentence. "Well ... fairly safe. Here's what I'm worried about. Last night there were hundreds of them out on the road. It might be a few days before they can come get us, no telling what might happen before then. Those so called shoes I made aren't going to last much longer, and if they come apart while we're running..." "You said they have a bus..." "Yeah, a couple of vehicles we could use, but if those things out there get as thick as they did last night, they couldn't just pull up. We'd have pull them away with a diversion, might have to use the back doors instead. I won't leave you alone, but if it looks safe, we'll try it." Marla didn't like the idea, but it made a lot of sense, and she couldn't stand the thought of him leaving her behind. Besides, it wasn't like he'd actually asked her. He'd promised to keep her alive, and needed her help to do it. That was enough for her, stripped to the bare essentials, she trusted him. If anyone could keep her alive, he could. He had her write down all the info his unit had asked for. She made a list of antibiotics, painkillers and anything else she could think of. While she did, he packed up most of the food, and cooked what was left over the Sterno. He brought it over before she was done "Eat up, this is the last of the soup. I figure we have enough for two more days, then we're down to candy bars and chips." He reported in, no one would come for them tonight. The kid on the radio thought that probably they could the next afternoon. Eckert reminded him they only had two days of food left, then transmitted the list of drugs and supplies Marla had written out. He shut off the radio and stood up. The machine guns still fired in the distance, but there wasn't any visible activity on the street below. Eckert parted the blinds, and studied the scene carefully. "I don't see any of them out there." He said. "Let's go downstairs and check it out." He packed everything up and led her downstairs. It was fairly difficult for her to get past the barricade. She had to balance herself with her cuffed hands and walk sideways down the outside of the steps. He crept silently into the entryway. Marla followed him, almost as quietly. He took his time, looking out both the vertical windows in the front door. He used a little mirror on a telescoping rod to get a better angle on the glass, then opened the door just a crack. He extended the rod and used it to check right around the door, "Clear," he said, "follow me close, just like before." Five quick steps saw them across the sidewalk and into the shadow of the boxy trailer. He crouched by the tires, signaling for her to watch the street to the right. Nothing moved on their block. Farther down, a few of the dead wandered around some stalled cars. Eckert scanned under the truck then led her forward. The front of the truck was only yards from the shattered door of the shoe store. A few razor sharp stalactites hung from the metal frame, those and the crossbar were all that was left. Two zombies rounded the corner, only sixty or seventy feet away. She nudged Eckert's back with her elbow, and pointed with the barrel of her pistol. He inhaled sharply, but didn't say a word, just grabbed her collar and pulled her through the door, under the crossbar. One of them sounded that awful hunting moan she'd heard before, the one filled with primal hunger. The world spun again. Her mind flashed back to the police car, and a spike of fear ran through her. Then she was backed up into a corner. Eckert's eyes locked hers with a piercing gaze. She couldn't look away, even if she'd wanted to. "Don't move," he ordered, "watch the door and the back, but don't shoot unless you have to." All her fear vanished. It wasn't gone, but banished from her conscious mind by his dark brown eyes. She was going to live a long time, he'd promised her. If she did what he told her, everything would be alright. She held the comforting thought in her heart as he turned away without even waiting for a response. He gave each aisle a quick glance, then turned down the last one. Moments later she spotted him coming her way from the back door. He signed for her to watch the door and disappeared again. One of the dead, a teenage girl in shorts with fragments of a halter top dangling from her neck, lurched into the store. One of her breasts was mangled, half eaten. Chunks were missing from one of her legs as well. Eckert's voice reached her from very far away. "Don't shoot Marla. I'll take care of them." The girl hissed and lunged for Eckert as he came out of the center isle. Marla brought up her pistol, but held her fire. She didn't think about the noise bringing more, or the limited ammunition. She didn't fire because Eckert had told her not to. He swung the framing hammer, catching the dead girl right on the temple. The dead girl staggered, twitching, and he hit her again. She fell into the crossbar, then back out into the street. Marla shifted her aim to the other door as the hunting moan sounded again. The other zombie she'd spotted, a fat man covered in dried blood and not much else tried to squeeze through opening in the bottom of the door. Eckert popped him once in the back of the head. His skull shattered with a sickening crunch. Eckert used his mirror to quickly check the street, then came to her. "You did great, just like I told you. Tomorrow we'll check on the drugstore attached to our building. Go get some boots your size, I'll watch the doors. If I call, come running." Marla nodded and headed for a wall full of boots. There weren't any hiking boots like she'd hoped, the store carried mostly goth style platform boots. She found a pair her size, knee high with only a moderate heel, and brought them back to Eckert. "No hiking boots." He took them and knelt, fingers undoing the buckles. "Can't be helped, give me your right foot." He slipped them on her feet, then helped her put on some fingerless gloves from a display on the front wall near the register. The kind with metal studs over the knuckles. Marla nodded to small sewing kits on display. "Grab some of those, probably nobody at your base thought about that yet." He took them, and sume packages of socks as well. "All set?" she nodded and drew her pistol again. "Lets roll." He bumped the crossbar as he went through, and glass fell from the doors, shattering on the ground. Moans again, quite close, probably drawn by the fat man's noise earlier. Eckert scrambled up to the hood of the truck, "Get up here now!" he yelled and fired a shot. From the corner of her eye, she saw blood spray over the sidewalk Marla put one foot on the wheel of the big rig, and pulled herself up. At least she tried to, but something grabbed her foot and pulled her back down. Off balance, she fell on her rear, but kept hold of her pistol. One of them pulled itself to her with a tattered arm, all it had left besides the head. She fired, the bullet blasted through its head and bounced off the asphalt next to the front tire. She lurched to her feet, and pulled herself up the rapidly deflating tire as Eckert fired a several shots in quick succession. He let his rifle dangle free, boosted her up onto the cab and then helped her across the gaps. It was easier this time. In no time they were back in the room. Her heart pounded furiously. Eckert beamed at her. "We made it, you did great." Marla reached down to where the thing had grabbed her and felt just above the leather of the boot. Her hand came away bloody. She held it out to him. "I think it bit me." His face fell, "There's always a chance, it's just a scratch." A furious determination seized her. "I am not going to die," she said, "You promised me, and I know you won't break your promise. If I help, you can keep me alive." It was irrational, but she didn't care. He'd promised, so everything would be alright. It was a medical emergency,. Her training and experience took over. "Give me some rope and a stick." She barked out orders, he followed them quickly and exactly. He helped her tie the rope into a tourniquet high on her leg right over the femoral artery, then lashed the hammer in place to keep the twisted rope from unwinding. "Fifteen minutes, we've got fifteen minutes, starting now. Give me the sharpest knife you have, the alcohol and start the fire. Do you have any painkillers?" She had him take her boot off while she sterilized the four inch blade with fire. There wasn't enough alcohol to do the job properly, but he had a small bottle of Motrin. "Open a canteen, then give me a pair of those socks and your bandanna." Six pills were all she dared take, a third of what he had. She poured water over the wound then used alcohol and the socks to clean it off. The pain made her wince, but it also aroused her. "Alive, I'm alive." she muttered. Eckert watched her expectantly. "Get that that bleach from the janitor's closet and one of the scrub brushes, hurry." Marla stuffed Ekert's green bandanna in her mouth, and bit down hard, tasting his sweat. It was comforting somehow, the taste of him. It helped her do the next part. There was nothing really important under the scratch, not tendons and only a tiny bit of muscle. It was a scratch, and might not have come from teeth, but the creatures mouth had been right there ... The side of her leg, just below the knee, there was even a name for the location, it would have been on her test, the one that probably never happened. Marla couln't remember the name now though. She took a deep breath, then screamed into her improvised gag as she sliced though the skin and down to the bone. The second cut was harder to make. Her hands trembled as she struggled to put the blade in just the right spot. He vision flashed black as she made the cut. The inch and a half long strip of flesh dropped to the floor as she collapsed back into the chair. She let the blood flow as she waited for Eckert. It ran down her leg to pool on the floor under her foot. With the tourniquet on, only the blood in her leg would be lost, and that only from above the knee. Any infection she might have picked up should be in the veins above the wound, she could only pray she'd gotten the blood flow stopped soon enough to keep it in her leg. Soon the veins leading from the wound were empty. Gravity pushed blood from the arteries through the capillaries and out through the hole she'd cut, the blood trickled to the floor with a steady drip drip drip. The tourniquet must be a little loose, but that could be a good thing. The sluggish flow of blood might clear the infection, but she couldn't let it run too long. There was a crowd on the street below, she could hear them. They'd been drawn by the shots, but could they smell the blood? They were more active than ever before, more even than the first night. Eckert came in and pushed the desk in front of the door. She looked at him though a black rimmed tunnel. "You need to do the rest, you promised to keep me alive, so you have to do it." His face was pale, eyes wide. He put the items down and knelt beside her, looking as young as he really was for the first time. "I'll do it." His eyes were firm on hers. "Gag me first, they're hungry outside, and we don't want them to hear me. Besides, it will stop me from biting myself. Use the bleach to scrub the wound. I'll scream but scrub it good. Then use something clean to bandage it." He pulled a sterile bandage from a pouch and lay it unopened on the desk. "Perfect. After you do that, move me to the couch and elevate the wound. Tie it in place. Tie me to the couch, just in case, then take off the tourniquet. Last but most important, screw me senseless. Endorphins are the best painkillers we have, and it's going to hurt a lot. I'll scream more, but do it anyway." It hurt more than she imagined it would. She passed out while he scrubbed, but unfortunately she didn't stay out. She was conscious when he moved her and tied her leg to the back of the couch, bandage already in place. Eckert tied her hands and looked deep in her eyes as she screamed. "I didn't say this before because I wasn't sure, but I want you to know. I love you Marla." He entered her, and it was like he'd flipped a switch. The pain was still there, but it didn't hurt. He transformed it to pleasure. She felt so alive, the pain and pleasure combined into an orgasm full of blinding light. It was so intense she was sure her heart would stop, and it want on and on. Until finally she could take no more. There was a reason the Victorians called orgasm 'the little death'. Now she understood why. ------- Chapter 11 Marla woke again during the night. Eckert had been watching her sleep. He untied her hands and helped her sit up a little. She drank half a bottle of Gatorade, and lay back. "Did you tell me you love me?" He nodded. "Good, I'd hate to belong to someone who didn't." "Belong?" She'd confused him. He didn't seem to understand, or he might not want to understand. A wolf would keep someone as a possession and he didn't want to be one. Marla ignored the question. "I love you too, you're the best thing ever happened to me. Can you do it again?" she asked "I hurt and we need to save the Motrin for later. Only two at a time, every four hours." He nodded and moved gently between her legs. She came just from his fingers, then while he was inside her a big one washed the pain away." She dozed the rest of the night, waking occasionally to beg for sex and pills. Eckert gave her both, along with food and drink. She'd lost a lot of blood, more than two pints for sure, probably three. It was after noon before she managed to sit up again. Her hands shook as she took a canteen cup of hot chocolate from him. "I want you to check me, see if I'm symptomatic. I think I've seen the symptoms before, but I want you to look at it." He waited until she was done, then unwound the bandage. It was stuck to the wound, and hurt terribly as he pulled on it to check. "I don't think you have it, but it's all red all around. The bandage is full of yellow pus and it smells bad. Should we change this? The socks should be pretty clean." "No, not yet." She watched him as he wrapped it back up. He hadn't told her what they'd said, and there'd been two radio checks while she was out. "Weren't they going to pick us up today?" He smiled confidently. "They had trouble with the repairs, but they'll be here between noon and one tomorrow." He handed her a sheet of paper with another decoded message on it. He'd marked each sentence to make it easier to read. Expect evac next day 1 2 0 0 to 1 3 0 0 / vehicle repair delay from wheel / use S O P on wounded civilian / avoid avoid contact with enemy / recon medical supply I F possible / give detail recon report U location 0 6 0 0 next day "What's SOP" Marla asked. "Standard Operating Procedure." he replied "In this case you get a choice of a week in restraints to see if you have any symptoms, exile, or a bullet to the brain." She shuddered. "I'll take the first one, but my leg's infected. It's not too bad now, but if I don't get some antibiotics I won't be able to walk tomorrow." "You can walk now?" "I'll have to, you promised not to leave me alone." She saw the struggle on his face, but finally he nodded. "If you can walk, you can come. I have an idea, and an extra pair of eyes and ears makes it a lot safer." It turned out she could walk, if he helped her. Her wounded leg would support her weight, but it was agony to bend it. He led her to the janitor's closet and leaned her against the wall. "There's a roof access here, but it's locked. Listen for anything trying the doors." He hit something three times with the sledgehammer, then opened the door. They listened quietly for a while. "Ok, stand here while I open the hatch. I don't think there will be any up there, but mistakes can get us killed." After a moment, he called down to her. "Clear, come on up." Marla went up the ladder one rung at a time, he helped her up the last few feet. The roof was flat and empty except for some vents and HVAC units. The roof was gravel over tar, hot in the afternoon sun. There were solid green pyramids over the drugstore part of the building. He led the way around the perimeter using the mirror occasionally to check over the edge. "over there," He pointed "There are second story windows in the corner and along the back wall, might be some offices." There were a skylights there, and he examined them for a long time before he hit one with with the sledgehammer, cracking it and knocking it loose from the frame. There was no reaction from inside. He lifted it off and they looked down into the semi darkness. There was a staircase twelve feet below, and slightly to one side, but straight down was a two story drop to an aisle. "I could make a ladder, I think I have just enough 550 cord, but I don't like the looks of this, not one little bit. Marla spotted movement and pointed it out. One of them staggered in circles, one foot tangled in a plastic bag. Another stumbled into view, this one had its eyes fixed on the opening. Eckert gently pulled her back from the opening. "They broke in." she whispered. Eckert pursed his lips. I'm not so sure. There was still power for a while, Most places like this have automatic doors and they could have gotten in that way." He lay down and poked the mirror over the edge. He wiggled it this way and that, then backed away again. "I count four of them, and the doors seem to be closed." He broke open another skylight. The doors were closed, and intact. "Six of them at least." He watched them for a while, then went over to another skylight. Marla limped after him and helped him open it. Beneath was an employee break room. All the doors were closed, and the room was clear. Eckert lowered himself though the skylight, hung from his hands, and dropped into a crouch on the floor. He scanned the room, then hurriedly moved a table under the skylight and put a chair on top of that. She watched as he cleared the bathroom and the office. He opened the door that led to the rest of the store. Marla winced as she heard the hunting moan from at least two of them. He waved to them, then shut the door and hurried to the table. Moments later he was at the first skylight they'd opened, rifle ready. He steadied it on the sill, taking his time. The rifle barked once, twice, three times, in less than two seconds. Zombies in the street and parking lot moaned and shuffled towards the building. She could hear them all around. Ekcert grabbed her chin and turned her face to his. "Hey, just wait. They'll settle down." Some of them pounded on the brick wall, but one found a glass door and beat on it. He wrapped his arms around her and held her while she shook. It took them a long time to stop banging, especially the one at the glass door. "I think once more should do it," he said "Lets just see where they are." He checked the store again then dribbled some gravel though the skylight. First one then another came to investigate the sound. They watched the gravel bounce on the floor fascinated. They just stood there until a fourth arrived. That one, a little girl clutching a stuffed dog, looked up when the gravel bounced off her head. She saw them through the opening and snarled. One by one the others looked up and Marla shuddered as they moaned. Eckert snapped the rifle to his shoulder and squeezed off four measured shots. Then he took her hand and squeezed it as the pounding started back up. "Ignore them, they'll go away." He sounded so confident. "We only need to wait." His lips bushed hers gently, then again with more force. She forgot all about them in his arms. This time it took over an hour for them to settle down, were they learning? Did they remember where the noise had come from before? Had they made too much noise on the roof? Clearing the store was heart pounding, The shelves kept the aisles dark with shadows. Marla expected to see one around every corner. The terror was worse because her vision was ringed with black. She must have lost more blood than she'd thought. They found only one more, a crawler by the front doors. Eckert dispatched it with one well placed blow from his hammer. Shaking with fatigue, she sat on the floor while he barricaded the entrance with shopping carts and tied them together with clothesline. She kept watch for more of them, just in case they'd missed some, and wondered how he could work so quietly. The carts barely rattled as he lifted them into place. When the door was barricaded two carts high and three deep, he helped her into a wheelchair and whisked her off down the isle. Not having to walk or stand took away a lot of pain and her vision gradually returned to almost normal. Instead of breaking into the pharmacy right way, he checked the shelves carefully, grabbing items off the shelves and stuffing them into his backpack. Marla didn't really pay much attention to what he grabbed. He'd ordered her to stay awake and keep watch. It took most of her energy to do that. He'd said something about if she saw something they needed to tell him, but she couldn't think of anything except some antibiotics. She didn't really notice anything until he opened the cooler doors and the smell hit her. It wasn't as bad as the dead, but the smell of rotting ice cream was enough to turn her stomach. She supposed it made sense to grab a few things first, as breaking in to the pharmacy might make a lot of noise. They might have to grab and run afterwards. Though the steel shutters were down, the door to the back room of the pharmacy was unlocked. Marla aimed at the doorway, finger carefully outside the trigger guard. She stood, just in case, arms braced on a shelf. Eckert pushed the door open gently, and stepped back, hammer ready. For a moment it looked like the room might be clear, but the first zombie out came for her with a wheezing snarl. The big black man had been shot several times, once right through the throat. Eckert whacked him in the back of the head and he fell twitching. He whirled and got the next, a skinny girl in a miniskirt, but the third, a middle aged woman wearing a bloody pharmacists coat managed to grab the hammer as he tried for her with the back swing. That gave the fourth, another pharmacist, time to grab him. They tumbled to the floor in a heap. He let go of the hammer and grabbed the white coated figure by the neck, pushing it away from him with one strong arm. The first pharmacist sat up puzzled, looking at the framing hammer. Marla didn't hesitate, just squeezed off a round. the report came as a surprise, and brains sprayed over a shelf full of condoms. Eckert rolled over on top of the one that had grabbed him, but he didn't see the teenager in baggy black pants. It had to crawl because the pants had fallen to its ankles. She shot it before it could grab Eckert. Three steps brought her to stand over the struggling pair. The man was huge, strong even in death, but a 9mm bullet in his ear took all the fight out of him. Eckert jumped to his feet and snatched up the framing hammer. Four, five, six seconds passed and there was no sign of more dead. He made sure of the twitching zombie while she watched the door, then his head snapped around to the front of the store as the pounding began. At least three of them were at the glass doors up front. He helped her load a fresh magazine. "Anything we need here besides that list you gave me?" She shook her head. "No, are you ok?" His smile was reassuring, but she could tell by his eyes he was shaken. "They didn't bite me, you were too fast for them. He handed her his pack. "Put this upstairs on the table, then come back to the top of the stairs and cover me." The zombies were at the back door as well, the steel door rang in its frame as one of them pounded on it. "Hurry, seconds count." Marla had to put the heavy pack on the table, along with another chair, climb onto the table and move the pack to a chair, then heave it as hard as she could to get it up on the roof. It wasn't until it was up there that she realized what he'd done. If they broke in and he couldn't get out, she would have everything but what he carried on him, including the radio. They would probably come get her even if he didn't make it, it didn't sound like they had anyone with real medical training. Back on the staircase, she drew her pistol and listened to the dead pound on the doors. Eckert darted from the pharmacy, and searched the dead bodies, coming up with a key ring on a flexible plastic coil. He held them up to her with a grin and was gone again. It wasn't two minutes later he was back, hurrying her through the door and boosting her up to the roof. Three minutes after that, they were barricaded in their room again. She lay on the couch exhausted while he checked the street. "There must be two hundred of them out there." He unloaded the contents of various pockets onto the desk. "We got everything on your list, plus..." He held up an IV bag of saline solution. "This will help, right?" Marla could tell he wasn't sure, and smiled at his expression. "It will help replace the blood, better than just drinking fluids." "Ok, lets just do this first then." He dug some insulated wire cutters from his pack, tossing aside a folded sweatshirt, and tried them on the chain linking her wrists together. The chain skittered out of the angled jaws. He tried again, this time his knuckles went white with strain and he grunted with the effort. When he relaxed his grip, there might have been a scratch on the damaged link that hadn't been there before, but the wire cutters were notched. He arranged her hands on the concrete floor. "Don't move." He set the cutters around the chain and held them in place. Eckert raised the hammer over his head and brought it down hard. He adjusted the cutters and swung again. Metal bounced into the air and clattered to the floor. Eckert held up the ruined cutter with a grimace. "Made in China." One of the wedge shaped cutting blades had snapped off. "There's no way you can put this sweat shirt on then." Marla giggled. "I thought you liked the way I'm dressed." That got him to smile. "Tomorrow we might need to run. You'd be safer with more clothes and without those handcuffs." Marla looked down at the half healed scratches and scrapes covering her body. She'd had them so long she hardly even noticed the pain anymore. There were a couple of new ones from the metal rim of the skylight. Marla looked into his dark eyes. "I feel alive dressed this way. The handcuffs don't bother me at all, not anymore." She grabbed the front of his uniform jacket with both hands and pulled him closer. "You promised me, I know everything will work out." She kissed him hard, hoping he would respond in kind. He disengaged himself gently. "Later, lets get you fixed up first." he plopped antibiotics and painkillers on the desk, followed by bandages, alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. She didn't want to take anything for pain, but he ordered her to. She gave herself a double dose of antibiotics to start the course of treatment, and separated out a weeks worth. He wrapped the entire regimen in plastic before tucking it away in her pistol bag. She tried not to think about what that meant. While she'd decided which drugs to use, and started the IV in the vein on the back of her left hand, he attached a small duffel to the belt of the pistol bag. Inside he'd packed food and water and extra socks. They were leaving tomorrow and he had made sure she had everything she might need in case things went wrong. There were lucky survivors, like herself, and there were careful ones like Eckert. He wanted her to have a chance if something happened to him. While they waited for the IV to empty, he cleaned their weapons with practiced hands. The way he moved, he could probably reassemble his rifle blindfolded. When he was done, they worked together on her dressing. They had to soak it free, using peroxide, but once they had it off the wound turned out to be much less infected than she'd originally thought. Of course if they had waited a day to treat it, it would have been worse, possibly much worse. Eckert inspected it closely, blood trickled from the wound, where bits of the scab had come off with the bandage. It was really red, all the movement had irritated it, the puss was an unhealthy color but that would change because of the antibiotics. What wasn't there was dull green-gray skin and black traced veins. "I think it worked." He smiled in relief. "I don't see any sign of it, how do you feel?" "Tired and sore." She said. "I don't want to take too many of those, they're addictive. Could you help me create some natural painkillers?" He was only too willing... ------- Chapter 12 Eckert helped her get dressed again. "I was hoping you'd be free by now." Marla shrugged. "It won't make any difference," she said, as he tied the silk scarf around her chest again. "I'll just follow behind you tomorrow." She helped him prepare a terse report on what they'd found, the hard part was encoding it using the minimum amount of spelling. Hopefully whoever decoded it would understand. They watched the seconds tick down together. Eckert twisted the volume knob and the radio crackled to life. He pressed the button and spoke into it with a clear firm voice. "Sierra-Sierra-Six this is Sierra-Sierra-Two-Three. Over." They waited a long five seconds before Mel's voice crackled from the speaker. "Two-Three, this is Six. Stand by for Six-Actual." Another voice came on immediately after. "Two-Three, this is Six-Actual. Attention to Orders. Extract begins. You are hereby promoted to the rank of sergeant. Signed Six-Actual, Captain, acting commander 142nd MP Battalion. Extract ends. Hard copy on file at this location. Prepare to copy. Over" The voice was male, older and sounded very confidant. She looked at Eckert, but he only shrugged. "The voice doesn't sound familiar, but I don't think Sgt. Mel would hand over command to just anyone." He turned his attention to the radio. "Ready to copy, Over." The message was short. He confirmed it and transmitted the message they'd prepared. While he was busy, she decoded it. "Evac schedule confirmed Transmit recon report 0 6 0 0 transmit voice 1 2 0 0 details" She ran her hands through Eckert's short hair, and lay on the couch, left leg up to relieve the pressure. He read off five four letter groups, waited for confirmation, then read the next line. He was only half way done when someone broke in, drowning out the kid reading back the letters. "Two-Three, your battalion commander isn't even in this state. Give me your location and I'll confirm your promotion. Over." Eckert grimaced. "Sir, Authenticate Bravo-Sierra or get off my net. Break. Charlie-Romeo..." He got out another line, but again the confirmation was drowned out. "Two-Three, don't give me that shit, tell me your location right fucking now, or I'll have you up on charges." "Last calling station, this is Sierra-Sierra-Six-Actual." it was the man who'd spoken before. "You will not bring charges against any of my people for following lawful orders. Break. Two-Three, complete current message during next transmission. Break. Unauthenticated station, I'm a little busy here, but I understand you're a lieutenant. I'm giving you a lawful order to cease transmission on my freqs until thirteen hundred hours, I'll have time for you then. Six-Actual out." Eckert listened to the lieutenant protest for a moment, laughing, then shut off the radio. "The battery is a little weak, does your cell phone have a signal?" "I don't really know," Marla dug it out of her bag and turned it on. She moved around the room, looking at the screen. "I get one or two bars here, and I still have a quarter charge." "Try this number." He read the number he'd decoded before. Marla punched it in and hit 'Send'. There was a lot of dead air, then finally it rang. Two, three, four times and someone picked up on the other end. "Hello?" The voice was a girl, possibly the same one she'd heard on the radio before. "Is this Sierra-Sierra-Six?" Marla asked. There was a long pause, and the girl answered hesitantly "Who is this?" "My name's Marla, I'm with Jim Eckert" "Oh! You're the doctor!" The girl continued, talking to someone else, just loud enough for Marla to make out the words. "Jeremy, It's the doctor with Sergeant Eckert, what should I do?" The room was blurry, and Marla shook with silent tears. The girl sounded so normal, her sweet voice so out of place in a world filled with death. "Doctor Marla, can you give us the rest of the message? It will save time tomorrow." She didn't trust her voice, so wordlessly she handed the phone over. "This is Private Eckert." he laughed and continued. "I'll write it on my hand so I don't forget. I'll just read it off, then if you have any questions I'll answer them." He gave them a much more detailed version of what they had intended to send. Then someone else came on, at least judging by the sirs that popped up in his sentences it was someone else, and he answered questions. While he talked, she checked the street. It was like watching the tide flow. The dead wandered aimlessly, then nearly as one perked up and headed for a noise she didn't notice for a full minute. Motorcycles, who could be crazy enough to ride motorcycles down streets full of walking dead? Had they all heard the sound, or were they following the ones that had? In any case, half the street emptied quickly, while the other half filled with zombies that struggled to get past the truck. They didn't seem to think to crawl under it, but if they got knocked down by the others, they sometimes crawled quite a ways before they remembered to stand up. The phone snapped shut, and Eckert wrapped his warm arms around her shoulders. "When they come get us, they're going to empty the drugstore. They want you to decide what medical supplies are useful, they have first priority. You going to be up to it?" Marla leaned back into his warmth. "Yes, I can do that." She sighed. "I better get some rest though." "I need to tie you up, just in case" "Really? And then what? Going to take advantage of me while I'm defenseless?" He kissed her and let her to the couch, where he tied her arms to one of the ends. He used a slip knot that she could undo if she had to. "Depends, have you been a good girl today?" "Yes sir, I've been very good. Do I get a treat?" He kissed his way down her body, and gently eased her shorts off. "How about this?" He kissed up the inside of her thigh from her knee to her crotch. She gasped, "Hadn't you better tie my legs? We should keep it elevated." It was just an excuse, but it worked. ------- Chapter 13 Marla dreamed of Death again, but he only watched her from his boat as she picked roses naked on the riverbank. The thorns tore at her arms, body, and especially her legs. Her left leg was worst, the thorns sliced deep and blood flowed freely. Around her wrists she wore matching red-black rose bracelets, They were plaited together, and the thorns dug into her wrists as she worked. She reveled in the pain. it meant she was still alive. Danger lurked in the deep shadows cast across the meadow by the skull-like hills, but she wasn't afraid anymore. Life was pain, it couldn't be avoided. Heartbreak and sorrow only made love and joy all the sweeter. She treasured all of it, tasting every breath, enjoying every slice of the thorns. He wanted roses, and she would bring them to him. He was a kind master. He loved her and trusted her with his life. In turn, she did what he said. He'd promised that if she helped him, he would keep her alive. She would never have to be alone again. Little by little the dream faded, gradually enough that she couldn't define the precise moment she woke up. If everything went right, this would be the last time she would wake up in this room. She was a little scared to leave. It might be nice to have more people around, but she'd been safe here, learned to live here. If she was somewhere else, would she forget how to live again? Eckert had fallen asleep in the chair. The sky lightened as she watched him sleep and tried to sort out her feelings. She would walk through fire if he told her to. A small part of her mind told her she should be appalled, but she wasn't, not even a little bit. It was probably nearly time. She called out to him, softly, hesitantly. At first he only stirred, so she called a little louder. He started, nearly jumping out of the chair. "What?" "I think it's almost time." She lifted her eyes to the brightening sky. He checked his watch, nodded and untied her. "How did you sleep?" "Better than I have since this started, thanks to you." She took a dose of antibiotics and helped him pack what little they had out. She checked her pistol, making sure she had a round in the chamber and a full magazine. Besides that, she had two more full magazines, and another with three rounds. If she didn't miss, and had time to reload, she could take care of twenty-eight zombies. Eckert had forty rounds left. They wouldn't be able to fight their way out. The morning report was brief, they gave only a quick count of the dead, and receiving only confirmation that they should be ready to move at noon. They made love before they left, just to 'get the kinks out'. The inflammation on her leg was way down, and there was almost no pus. There was still no trace of gray-green skin around the wound and no black lines tracing her veins. Climbing the ladder was easier than the day before, but it still hurt. She'd 'forgotten' to take more prescription painkillers, taking ibuprofen instead. She got a few more scrapes from the skylight, but ignored them and went to work. The very first thing she did was find the 'bible' a book that had a listing of every drug, detailing what it was for, along with adverse side effects and reactions if taken with other medicine. Marla stacked bottles on the counter, and had Eckert strip the boxes off most of the unopened ones to save weight and space. When the counters were full, they grabbed duffel bags from the main store. Things probably would have been faster if they split up, but she didn't want to be alone so she didn't say anything. Eckert didn't even mention it as a possibility. They wound up packing nearly everything in the pharmacy, then moved to the aisles outside. Bandages, surgical tape, sterile dressings, cold medicine, all the over the counter painkillers there were. Absolutely anything that might be useful, they stripped the outer wrappers and bagged it away. When they ran out of duffel bags, they double bagged the items in plastic bags. When they had everything medical related packed away, they moved on to the food. Dry cereal, without the pretty boxes, pop tarts the same way, spam, the list went on and on. The dairy products were mostly spoiled, except for some cheese. The bread was moldy, but there were shelves full of fruit juice and soda. They left most of the soda where it was, but assembled everything that claimed to have real fruit juice. If there was room and time, they could get take the pop, but it was only empty calories, not even as nutritious as the boxes of candy they stacked for transport. They took all the ziplock bags, toilet paper, paper towels, tampons and pads. Stacks of plastic cups and bowls, boxes of plastic silverware. Clothesline and pins, soap and laundry detergent... Eckert caught her as she fell. The black rings around her vision had been back for a while, but she'd ignored them, together with the shaking in her legs. "Why didn't you say something?" His concern was obvious, it was in his voice and eyes, in the tender way he held her. "There's so much to do, hundreds of kids need this stuff. Most of them won't have a change of clothes, no blankets to sleep in. Those sweatshirts will help, there got to be fifty of them and it doesn't matter if they're too big." She went on about what would be needed until he quieted her with a kiss. "What you're going to do is rest. We don't even know if there will be enough room for what we have packed." He checked his watch. "Besides, It's eleven-thirty, almost time to check in." They made a light meal from granola bars and dried fruit, washing it down with bottled water. That wouldn't be going, too much space for so little return. He helped her back onto the roof, and made her sit and wait with the radio while he counted the dead around the building. When he called in, the new voice from the night before answered. "Two-Three this is Six-Actual. Estimate twenty, two-zero mikes from your location. Give recon report in the clear. Over." "Roger Six-Actual. In the back parking lot there are five Zulus. Another twenty on the street out front..." It took five minutes or more for him to finish reporting, between questions and inventory of what they already had packed. By the time he finished, Lt. Groze had found their frequency again. "You bring all that stuff here to the community collage, we have over a thousand survivors here who need it." As soon as he cut off, Six-Actual came back on. "Two-Three, switch to cell if you can, if not, switch to freq Alpha-Two. Break. Last calling station, stay off my net until the appointed time. I know who you are, and will communicate with you then." Here on the roof, she got a constant two bars. The phone was picked up immediately. "Marla?" "Yes, we're supposed to call in?" "Yes, we have another number for you to use." "Hang on" Marla put it on speaker phone so Eckert could hear. "Ok, go ahead." The girl read off a number, and Eckert copied it down. When they had it, she said. "Call right now, Captain Hansen needs to talk to you before he gets there." Marla handed him the phone. Before he finished dialing the number, she heard them. "Sir," Eckert said into her phone. "this is Sgt. Eckert." He nodded and looked towards the growing noise of engines. "I can hear you now, but can't see you. There will be a car dealership on your left with a big blue sign, the back parking lot is immediately after it. Watch out for Zulus, there is a big apartment complex right before the dealership." The engines stopped moving. Eckert nodded and spoke into into the phone. "Wilco." He snapped the phone shut. "They spotted survivors and are detouring to pick them up. "Estimate ten to twenty minutes before they get here. It's just a guess, but probably a good one." He crept to the edge of the roof, scanned over the edge, then hurried back. "All the ones out back are headed for the sound of the engines." Eventually the vehicles roared into motion, their engines echoed down the empty streets. Her phone buzzed, and Eckert answered it. "Ready sir." He listened a moment more then walked to the edge of the roof and waved when he saw the approaching vehicles. Two military hummers, a school bus and a big pickup truck with a wooden fence around the cargo area. They were probably only doing twenty or twenty five miles an hour. Marla stood and watched them come. They didn't avoid all but the largest groups, The big brush guard on the lead vehicle just bounced them off with no apparent damage to the vehicle, In fact, she distinctly saw the hummer in the rear swerve to hit one that bounced away spinning and broken. Eckert grabbed her arm. "Lets move, we're going out the back." She almost asked why, but remembered in time not to question his orders. If it didn't become obvious, she could ask later. He helped her down into the store, and she followed him as fast as she could. In the back, he put her in cover behind a stack of soda bottles. "Make sure you're on safe, don't shoot unless I tell you." He put the phone to his ear. "Can you hear me sir? We are in position, ready to open the door on your command." He undid the bolt set into the top of the door, and waited. The roar of engines reverberated though the wall and floor. Eckert put one hand on the release bar, swallowed hard and pushed. The back end of a school bus blocked the parking lot from view. There were sections of chain link fence over the windows, and a large piece of plywood reinforced with two by fours hung nearly to the ground. The back door was missing, replaced by a metal framed sliding chain link door, backed by wood slotted with firing slits. The bus backed up flush with the wall, effectively sealing the opening. The door slid open. Two kids with rifles covered them, but their fingers weren't inside the trigger guards. They wore faded camouflage and hiking boots. In contrast to their uniforms, the U.S. Army and name tapes sewn on their chests were brand new. The bigger one lowered his weapon when he saw Eckert."Sergeant Eckert, I really didn't think you'd make it. Is that Doctor Marla behind you?" He waived them forward while the younger climbed down. The bus engine shut down, and she heard the roar of another engine close by. Eckert motioned for her to follow him. "I told you I'd be fine. How is Chuck?" The boy's uniform had fresh new embroidered patches over his breast pockets, His name tag read McKay. "He's got a bad infection. The knife bounced off his ribs, but I think it was dirty." The other engines shut off as well, leaving a vast silence in which distant moans were barely audible. Marla stepped out from behind the pallets, holstering her pistol inside her bag. She smiled at them as she stepped lightly to Eckert's side. They stared at her, openmouthed. She flushed a little, but didn't really mind like she would have two weeks before. A girl dressed the same way as the boys came to the door. She waved happily at Eckert, then frowned when she saw the boys staring at Marla. She backhanded the older one familiarly. "Don't stare, it's rude. The old man wants you two to pull security right here while we get things started." She looked at Marla and Eckert, her voice formal. "Have either of you been bitten? The penalty for lying about it is being left here." The girl had her hair pulled up under her hat. The uniform would have made her look older, but it was too big for her. The sleeves were rolled back so she could use her hands. At a guess, she was probably fifteen. Her name tape read Johnson, the same as the younger boy. Eckert answered for both of them. "We understand, she might have been bitten, two days ago, no symptoms, but we followed standard precautions." "Welcome back, and thanks for saving Alex." She stomped on the older boy's, McKay's foot. "Stop staring and move out of the way." He hopped down and the girl reached down to help Marla climb up. The two by fours were spaced so they could be used as footholds, and Marla's blood raced as Eckert's hands touched her. He probably hadn't meant to touch her in that exact spot, but the sharp spike of pain around her wrists and on her leg combined with his fingers pressing against her left her breathless. The girl looked at her, concerned. "Are you ok?" Marla nodded, weak kneed. "I'll be fine." She heard a cough from near the front of the bus, then another. Eckert clambered up behind them. "Hey Jenny, Why are you all in uniform?" "Captain Hansen enlisted us." Jenny led them up front, past a ladder hastily welded in place near the middle of the bus. Some benches were missing, replaced by metal boxes. Others had been taken out and put back in sideways. There was chain link over all the windows, and some of the windows had taped over bullet holes or were missing entirely, replaced by plywood with a firing slit in the middle. Four kids in boy scout shirts and green pants aimed scoped bolt action rifles out the windows. As they passed, one of the weapons coughed, much quieter than any gun she'd ever heard. Captain Hansen was in his late twenties, and he greeted Eckert with a warm handshake. "Glad to finally meet you sergeant. First Sergeant Corbett spoke highly of you, and I don't think she exaggerated." He put his hand out to Marla. "Doctor, I'm glad to have you join us." He frowned when he saw the cuffs on her wrists and the scrapes and bruises. "I heard about what happened, we'll get those off you ASAP." Jenny cut in. "Sir, she was bitten two days ago, no obvious symptoms." His face clouded, but he smiled warmly, a real smile, and took her hands. "Doctor, If you feel up to it, we've got some survivors for you to treat." He looked at the kids manning the windows. "Private Atkins. We need those bolt cutters now." A boy put his weapon down and opened a bag on the floor by his feet Marla looked at Eckert for support. He nodded and put his arms around her. "You'll be alright, just relax." She nodded her thanks. "Captain, I'm not a doctor, just a first year medical student." "I know." Captain Hansen said. "But it will help everyone if we can call you Doctor. Sergeant Eckert. I want you to load up everything you can. Take all the medical supplies up front first, then load all the food, half on this vehicle and half though the window onto the truck. After that comes everything else, half and half. Keep the troops in pairs, and if I send word to pull out, drop everything and bring all your people back. Jenny, get the team into the building for him." Eckert gave her one last squeeze and hurried back into the building. "Atkins, hurry with those cutters." The boy dumped out the bag, then scooped everything back into it. "They're not here," "Where did you have them last?" Hansen asked. The boy's bow creased in thought. "We were carrying more ammo to the Hum-Vees." Captain Hansen bit off whatever he wanted to say, and instead ordered the boy to help carry from the back of the bus to a cleared area in the front. "I'll see if the cutters are in one of the other vehicles." he said to Marla. "In the meantime, please check these five and and how they are." In contrast to the teenage soldiers, the civilians were ragged and dirty. They sat slumped on benches, an older couple, along with a man and two kids who looked like they were probably his children. The adults glared when he introduced her as Dr. Marla. "I heard," said the younger man. "Why don't you have her tied up like my daughter? She was bitten too, she should be tied up." There was a murmur of agreement from the others. The older woman went further. "I don't want a slut like that touching me." "Quiet." the captain didn't raise his voice, but it seemed to echo off the bus walls. "She's not tied up because she can't treat you if she is. Private Simpkins will watch her closely and shoot her in the head if she turns into one of them. When she is finished she will be restrained like your daughter. Do you have any problem with that Dr. Marla?" She looked around and saw a small unassuming woman about her own age dressed in a brown sweater and jeans. She had a green armband with an American flag sewn to it around one arm, and a green bandanna covered her mousy brown hair, but that was the only thing military about her. In one hand, she held a small revolver. "You're Private Simpkins?" The woman nodded shyly. Marla wasn't sure the woman could shoot anyone. "What's your first name?" The woman's voice was just as quiet and shy as Marla expected. "Zoe." Marla nodded, She'd been given a job to do, and Eckert would want her to do her best. In two steps she was next to Zoe, and had the small woman's gun hand in both of her own. Surprised, Zoe tried to pull her hand out of Marla's grasp, but Marla was a head taller, and even as weak as she was, stronger. "Zoe, I would consider it a great favor. If I turn into one of them, just put the barrel to my head and squeeze the trigger. You can do it, it's easy." She lifted the womans hand and aimed the barrel between her eyes. "Will you do that for me Zoe?" She nodded wordlessly and Marla let go of her hand. "I'm going to treat these people, then I want you to tie me to that bench over there, just in case." "Yes Doctor." Marla saw what Captain Hansen meant. If they thought she was a doctor, they would take whatever she said more seriously. She started with the youngest child. He was fine, a little dehydrated and hungry, but not hurt at all. His older sister on the other hand... One look was enough, Marla knew the girl was dying. She'd been bitten on her calf, and her entire leg was gray. Black lines traced over half her body. She shivered uncontrollably. Marla tried talking to her, but she was unresponsive. "How long has she been like this?" Her father glared at Marla, but didn't answer. The little girl went into convulsions. Marla started to check her airway out of instinct, but stopped herself. Behind her, Zoe gasped in horror. "Not again." Marla backed away and yanked out her pistol. "Gag her Zoe, do it now!" The kid's rifles coughed again, as if to punctuate her orders. Zoe pulled the bandanna off her head, letting her hair drop down her back in a single braid. The girl's father moved to stop her, but jerked back when Marla aimed her Luger at him. "Get back, she's turning now." It took only seconds for Zoe to finish, then she backed away, her pistol out and aimed at the girl. She bumped into the captain. He had his rifle up and aimed at the other two. "What's going on here?" The woman answered. "That tramp pulled a gun on us, why does she get a gun and we don't?" The captain ignored her. "Doctor, what's going on?" "The girl is about to change, I had Zoe gag her just in case. Have the others been checked for bites?" He shook his head. "Not yet, we had to keep moving before they closed in, or we wouldn't be able to get the supplies you gathered. They said only the girl had been bitten" Marla looked out the windows. In spite of the relative quiet, dozens of the dead closed in, most from the direction the bus had come from. "In the future, I recommend an immediate search. The boy is clean, what do we do about the girl? There's probably only a couple of minutes." The father cursed at her incoherently but he didn't move. Captain Hansen lowered his weapon and moved between them. The curses cut off like he'd flipped a switch. "Sir," the captain said "Your daughter is dying, she probably has only a couple of minutes to live, do you want the last words she hears her father say to be those? Say goodbye to her while you have a chance." The man cried, babbling to his children about how much he loved them, and how he would be a better father, do everything right if only they would live. He held the boy on his lap and stroked the girl's hair as if that would calm her franticly twitching body. The captain looked to the back of the bus. "Back to work, seconds count. Weapons team, remember, hold your fire until you can see the whites of their eyes, make every shot count." He turned to the older couple. Sir, I'm going to search you now. Ma'am, Please go forward, the doctor will search you." The woman turned white with rage. "I'm not going to let some floozy dressed like a whore touch me." "Doctor, move her forward. Either she lets you search her, or she stays here." "Please dear," her husband said. "Just do it, I really think they mean it." Life was easier with clear orders. Marla raised her pistol again. "Move, I don't care which way." Murder in her eyes, the woman slowly moved to the front of the bus. "Come with me Zoe." Marla said. She wasn't sure she could handle the stout woman alone without killing her. She hadn't thought she could be like this, but she knew if she had to, she wouldn't hesitate. "Alright, take it off, the quicker you do it, the quicker this is over with." The woman pulled off her sweater, then her blouse and slacks. She looked ok, but there was something in her eyes Marla didn't like. "Turn around." "Is this how you get your kicks?" She turned, slow, quick, slow. A flash of gray on her florid skin was quickly hidden by her movements. "Satisfied? Can I get dressed now?" She didn't wait for an answer, but picked up her blouse and started putting it on. "Hold it." Marla said, "Lift your right arm over your head and turn to face the rear of the bus." A patch of gray showed clearly on the inside of her upper arm. "How long ago were you bitten?" "I wasn't you bitch." The woman tried to slap Marla, but was brought up short by the pistols trained on her. Marla made her voice as firm as possible. "Put your arm up and face the rear of the bus." The woman's face was pale, bloodless. "You have no right to humiliate me like this. You're no doctor, just some sick freak, a stinking lesbian who gets off making decent women pose." Marla ignored the words, she had a job to do. One close look was enough. "Zoe, let her get her clothes on, then tie her up." The woman dressed quickly, but when Zoe picked up the rope she balked. "You can't do that you bondage freak, I have rights! I'm not going to let you do it." She lashed out wildly, knocking Zoe back. The small woman fell, but kept hold of her revolver. Marla dodged the woman's next blow, bounced off a metal post and kicked sideways. Her solid new boot connected, and the force of the impact knocked her into the pole again. The woman screamed as Marla's kick hit her knee, then fell to the floor wailing. Marla dropped onto the woman's back with both knees, knocking the wind out of her. Zoe slammed the butt of her pistol into the back of the woman's head an instant later. She bound the woman hand and foot while Marla stood, shaking with adrenaline. The scarf around her breasts had come loose, and hung from her hips. The coughing of the rifles was nearly constant, the air tasted of gunpowder and ripe death. Outside, the dead closed in relentlessly, drawn not so much by the suppressed gunfire, as by the hunting moans of the others. Her leg hurt, she wouldn't be surprised if it was bleeding again. It was a wonderful day to be alive. Marla looked to the back of the bus. The captain held the woman's husband at gunpoint, Three boys fired the little rifles at the approaching mob, cutting them down two or three at a time. A girl covered the other side. She worked her rifle mechanically, but never seemed to miss. Teenage soldiers ran down the isle, passing bags and boxes out a side emergency exit to the farm truck. Zoe moved next to her. "Let me help you with that." She unwrapped the silk scarf and retied it, looping the ends across each other and around the back of Marla's neck. It lessened the excitement of the day a little, but it was more practical. "Thanks." she said. "Go tell Captain Hansen she's bitten, I think I need to sit down. Just tie the collar to something first." As Zoe looped a length of green line through her collar, she thought about what the woman had said. "Bondage freak." she chuckled. "She's more right than she knows." Zoe finished tying the ends around the bar on the back of Marla's bench. "What's that?" She looked into Zoe's brown eyes, and saw raw terror barely held at bay. "Just that there isn't time to waste being afraid. Afraid of what people think, afraid of what might happen. Instead we need to enjoy being alive. Are you alive Zoe? How do you know?" Zoe shrugged, clearly not sure what to say. Marla zipped up her bag, then grabbed Zoe's arm and pinched it. Zoe twitched but didn't pull away, staring back into Marla's eyes. "It hurts. Life hurts. Life is pain, thats why it hurts to still be alive when all your family is dead. Feel your pain, enjoy every second of it, it makes the rest sweeter." Zoe's pulled back the sleeve of her sweater and rubbed the red mark appearing on her pale skin, then she looked back at Marla. The terror was still there, but not nearly as bad as a moment before. "I'll go tell the captain." Marla leaned back and closed her eyes, just for a second... ------- Chapter 14 Diesel engines roared, jolting Marla awake. She'd fallen asleep to the music of .22 caliber rifles destroying the undead. The rifles still fired, but the machine guns mounted on the Hummers had joined in. The wide vehicles drove straight into the crowd, loosing short streams of bullets as they went. The sound wasn't like what they'd heard from elsewhere in the city, but had a purposeful, businesslike air to it. As they drove away, the bigger gun echoed authoritatively down the street, drawing the attention of all the dead that could hear it. "Cease fire, Cease fire." Captain Hansen ordered. "Swap out the suppressors, and only fire at the ghouls if they have spotted us and are within five meters." He moved further to the back of the bus, and his voice lowered, setting the mood for everyone. "Real quiet now, Everything else goes into the truck until it's full. Pass it hand to hand." Zoe sat in the drivers seat, listening to the radios set up in the front. She shifted from one side to the other, constantly checking the windows, and occasionally turning to stare at Marla. When she did, Marla smiled encouragingly at her. All of the dead in the parking lot followed the rest of the convoy, Others continued to stream along the road, but by the time the truck was full, the flow had died to a trickle. They passed singly, and in groups of two or three. They'd stopped drifting in from the right as soon as the Hummers rounded the corner. None of them seemed to even look towards the bus, they just kept moving towards what had last captured their attention. Occasionally the big gun fired, just one shot, enough to keep the mob moving. Once, both of them let off several bursts ... Shortly after, they called in. They'd found two survivors, neither one bitten. The captain came back to the front for the radio call. He arranged to meet up with the others, but the location was in code. 'Point Bravo-Three' could mean anything. He hung the handset up, and patted Zoe's shoulder reassuringly. "You're doing fine, want to go inside and see if we missed anything?" Zoe shook her head, and shuddered. "We're moving out in five minutes." he said. "How about you doctor?" "No." Marla said, "But if you have something for me to do... ?" "Just get some rest, we've got a lot for you to do back in town." He moved back to where the kids stood ready with their silenced rifles. "Pair up, you have five minutes to grab anything you think we need back in town. Take a weapon with you." He grabbed four others as they came in and put them in the firing positions and came back up front with Eckert. He sat Eckert down next to Marla and squatted down in the isle next to them. He pitched his voice low so only they could hear. "I'm not going to override a call made by someone in the field, but going into that shoe store was very risky. Think twice before you take a chance like that again." Eckert closed his hand on Marla's leg possessively. "Yes sir, I sure will." Zoe stared at them, and when Marla looked at her, she turned away, eyes moist. Neither of the men seemed to notice. "Sergeant, that shoe store, how many pairs of boots were there?" Eckert thought for a moment, "Had to be at least a hundred." he said. "Probably more in the back and there were gloves too." He lifted Marla's hands to show what he meant. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. I'll lead a team in to the store, You take command outside. If the situation gets untenable, pass the word. If there isn't time for that, just honk twice and we'll come running. Remember, we need supplies, but the real mission is 'Everyone comes back'." The door slid shut, and Zoe wrestled the bus around onto the street out front. She pulled carefully through the gap between the cab of the semi and the storefronts, then shut down the engine. The farm truck pulled through behind them, then up next to the bus, blocking passage between the three vehicles. Eckert took a quick look at the situation, then grabbed two of the boys. "Up on the roof and crawl to the back of the bus. Keep your heads down and don't shoot unless I tell you or they pass that fire hydrant." They scurried up the ladder, and he brought the other two kids up to the front. He untied Marla and and pointed down the street where a half dozen walkers staggered towards the bus. "When they get close, have them shoot, I'm going to watch the back. Ki ... guys, don't shoot unless Dr. Marla tells you to, got it?" The girl was perhaps twelve, and the boy only ten or so, but they nodded gravely and steadied their rifles on the metal, barrels poking through the welded-on chain link fencing where the front right windshield had been. In the quiet, she clearly heard Eckert order the boys to fire, and two rifles coughed at once. She spared a glance to the rear, and saw the boy she'd examined sleeping on his father's lap. His eyes kept flickering to the open back door and back again. The older man sat on a bench opposite him, jaw clenched. He stared at the drugstore, not seeming to notice anything else. There was no sign of the woman. The zombies in front of them had noticed the bus all right, but didn't seem to realize there were people in it, yet. Zoe squirmed in her seat, revolver in her hand. Marla leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Everything is going to be fine. Just do your job, you're going to drive us all out of here in a little bit. Remember, you're alive." She nipped Zoe's ear and moved next to the girl in the scout uniform. "What's your name?" The girl didn't move, all her attention was concentrated on the zombie in her sights. The kid sized bolt action rifles had low power scopes on them as well as iron sights. The scope on her pink rifle was high enough the girl could see over the tube screwed on to the end of the barrel. "Private Stewart ma'am, Becky Stewart." "You sure you can hit that one Becky?" "Yes Ma'am." "Do it." The rifle coughed once and Becky shifted to the next target before the first hit the ground. "Good job. How about you?" The boy looked up at her with a grin. "Billy Johnson, and I can shoot better than her." The girl didn't look up. "Can not." "Can too, want to see?" Marla smiled at him. "Go ahead, the one on the left." That one dropped with a single shot as well. She had them take turns until all the close ones were gone. There were more, way down the street, but those ones didn't seem to have noticed the bus. Occasionally one of those passing along the cross street heard the persistent cough from the rear of the bus and wandered over to investigate. The kids put them down easily. She'd expected more of them to come from her end of the street. Zoe watched her furtively, but didn't seem to be afraid anymore. Embarrassed was more like maybe a little angry too, she blushed every time Marla looked her way. Marla laughed to herself. "You're doing great guys. Zoe, take over. I'm going to see how they're doing." They almost had the store empty, but the dead were closing in. The two kids on top of the bus couldn't keep up with the approaching horde. Their rifles fired five times in as many seconds, but only three of the front rank fell. Accuracy was only part of the problem. These zombies could see the soldiers clearly as they moved in and out of the store. They moved faster than the others and the hunting moans encouraged those behind them. She hurried back and grabbed Becky. The old man glared angrily at her when she passed. Marla ignored him and put the girl in position to shoot out the open door over the heads of the soldiers on the ground behind the bus. Marla pointed to the front of the truck. "They'll have to come around there, or crawl under the truck. Shoot if you see one, don't wait for me to tell you." The captain came out of the store with a stack of boxes, lifted them into the bus and turned to face the oncoming dead. "Mckay, Johnson, see if the keys are in that truck. Can you drive it?" "I can sir." Eckert said from his position on top of the bus. Captain Hansen looked up. "Good man, go with them. If you can get it started, follow us. Use channel five for commo." Eckert hurried down the ladder on the back and dropped to the ground in a crouch. The younger boy, Jeremy, checked under the truck while Alex covered him, then they changed position and Alex opened the door. Alex turned around and gave a thumbs up "Keys are in it." Eckert climbed into the cab and she lost sight of him. The truck whined, but didn't start. The captain climbed the outside ladder to the roof, and Private Jenny made sure everyone else got in before climbing in herself. She stood by the door, ready to shut it. The cough of Becky's rifle came as a surprise. The girl worked the action and fired again dropping a second one right in front of the semi. The Semi whined a third time, weaker than before, but this time it growled to life, belching black smoke from its exhaust. The boys on the roof dropped two more, and Billy's rifle coughed up front. Marla was sure he'd dropped one as well. Eckert revved the engine then hopped out on the running board and helped the other two in. The gears of the semi ground together briefly then it lurched into motion with a squeal of tearing metal. The cop car crashed to the ground, back on its wheels as the truck pulled forward, then Eckert muscled the wheel around, bumping the big front tire up on the sidewalk as he turned away from the other vehicles. The big rig roared away from them and turned the corner headed towards the car dealership. The sound got the attention of the zombies and most of them hurried after it as best they could. Jenny slid the door shut, then hauled up the plywood so it wouldn't drag. Marla followed the captain back to the front of the bus as it roared to life. The old man grabbed his arm and pointed to Marla. "How come she isn't tied up? You made my wife stay behind because she wouldn't let you do it to her, but this, this ... person gets to walk around loose?" Captain Hansen shook him loose. "Go on up front Doctor." He pushed the old man back into his seat. "The doctor was doing a job and has no symptoms. Your wife is infected and lied about it. Thats why." The boys slid down the inside ladder and hurried to their places. Billy's rifle coughed again. Another zombie collapsed on the road. Zoe's knuckles were white from clenching the steering wheel. "Relax Zoe," Marla whispered "just drive. Enjoy the road, the roar of the engine. You're in control of tons of metal moving much faster than you can run. Doesn't it make you feel alive?" Zoe gave her a weak smile. "Yeah, but ... I'm terrified." "So am I, isn't it great? Doesn't it make your heart pound? Can't you feel the blood rush through your veins?" Zoe shifted into gear, leg stretched out to push the clutch. "You're not going to bite me again are you?" Marla moved her mouth right next to the smaller womans ear. Zoe's hair smelled like shampoo. "Only if I think you need to be reminded that you're still alive ... or if you really want me to." A warm hand came down on her shoulder. "Doctor," Captain Hansen said "we're moving out, sit down and I'll be with you shortly." He grabbed the metal bar by the windshield and squatted down next to Zoe. "Head north, up this street to the next major intersection, there should be a stoplight, and turn left. Then bring it up to thirty, or if you feel safe doing it thirty-five, but no faster. Don't be afraid to slow down if you need to and stay as far away from any wrecks as you can." He came back and sat next to Marla. "Doctor, you did the right thing pulling Becky back to the rear. Don't take this the wrong way, but I do need to restrain you." Marla laughed. He looked into her eyes, searching. "It's ok captain, really. I'm kind of used to it now. Go ahead." she handed him the cord and leaned forward so he could attach it to the collar. He looked at her with knowing eyes. "I can guess what happened to you from the little Sergeant Eckert put in his reports. If you need to talk it out with someone, I think First Sergeant Corbett is the right woman to help you." Marla giggled. "I'll talk to her if you like, but I'm alive. People care what happens to me, and I don't have to be alone ever again." He didn't look convinced. "Look captain, you care. You care about everyone on this bus, even that nasty old man. These kids ... they care too. I know I'm ... It's like part of me broke inside, but Eckert put me back together again. I don't know how, and I don't really care. I'm ... different than I was two weeks ago, changed, but this me ... the new me ... None of this," she spread her cuffed hands wide and pointed to the dead city around them. "None of this bothers me anymore. I can live this life. I'm happy just to be alive, grateful for each new breath. Everything is for the best, in this the best of all possible worlds. I thought that was idiotic, but I understand it now. This..." She gestured school playground as they passed. A pack of zombie children pushed at the low fence, trying to follow the bus. "This is the best world of all, because it's the only one we have." She shrugged and looked into his eyes. "You're going to get a lot of people with problems, some of them real bad off. Don't worry about me. I may be damaged, but I'm functional." He nodded slowly, eyes distant. Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the crackle of a radio. They had the radio working in the truck. The captain called the Hum-Vees and arranged to meet them at a code named point. He diverted the little convoy north along wide streets where they could move faster. They were doing nearly fifty along a nearly deserted five lane road. They passed business parks and skirted a hospital. When they passed it, Marla saw dead in many of the windows, pressed against the glass watching them hungrily. She shivered thinking what would have happened if she had been at work. Was anyone who worked in any hospital still alive? Billy came up from the back. "The truck's stopping." Marla looked, it had fallen far behind. It swerved into a zombie and then away, stopping about twenty yards past it. The bark of Eckert's rifle was audible over the bus engine. Jeremy called in on the radio. "We'll catch up, Sergeant Eckert spotted something we need." He was tiny in the distance as he swung down from the cab and ran back to the broken corpse. Captain Hansen took the handset from Jenny. "When he gets back, tell him to call in first before stopping, and explain to him the two man rule." He gave the handset back and moved up next to Zoe. "Slow it down to twenty until they catch up." She nodded and let the bus coast for a long time, then cruised while they waited. The truck caught up to them about three blocks later. Eckert flashed his lights and called over the radio. "Six-Actual this is Two-Three. I have a bundle ready for transfer. Just stop when ready and we'll pass it over." The transfer took only seconds. From the passenger window of the truck through the side emergency exit of the bus and run up to Marla by Billy. "They said this is all for you, Doctor Marla." He told her as he plopped the black leather bundle into her lap. It was a leather jacket with a quilted lining, wrapped around black Levis. Inside of those, ware a pair of belts, the wide leather one was a police belt. The holster was empty, but the extra magazines were in place, and so were the handcuffs. There was a key as well. Her hands shook so bad she nearly dropped it as she pulled it from a pocket inside the handcuff pouch. "Billy," she said, "Can you unlock these for me?" It took him a few tries, but he finally managed it. Oozing sores ringed her wrist, and some of the skin stayed on the cuff. The left wrist was even worse. She sat for a long time, holding the handcuffs in both hands. She stared at them while tears ran down her cheeks. A part of her, the old her, wanted to throw them away. But she didn't. They'd brought her luck. Without them she might have gone into the hospital, and died there. Without them, she would have been moving on the street that first terrible night. She might have made it to her mothers house and died with her. Without them she might have driven out of the city with nowhere to go. She wouldn't have crashed the cop car, and Eckert would never have found her. Marla tucked them away in her bag. She would keep them forever. She pretended to ignore the eyes watching her. She didn't mind them watching, but if they knew she knew it might make them uncomfortable. She had to take her boots off to get the jeans on. They were too big, but not big enough to slide over the boots. With a belt cinched tight around her waist, they would stay on. She tucked the legs into the tops of her boots, like the soldiers wore theirs. The wide leather gear belt pinched her as she put it on. Her magazines fit loosely in the pouches, and emptying the ones that came with it more than doubled her ammunition. The luger didn't fit into the holster quite right, it was smaller and more angular than the weapon the holster was designed for, but it was easier to draw from than her gun bag. The leather jacket was too big in the shoulders and loose around her waist, but the arms were only a little long. When she was dressed she turned to her audience. "What do you think Captain?" "I think you'll be less distracting to the troops that way. Sergeant Eckert has good instincts, but needs to communicate better." Jenny laughed. "He's a man, of course he needs to communicate better." Everyone but Billy laughed, even Zoe. She seemed more relaxed than before. They talked as they drove, the kids told her how they and their brother had managed to join the army, and Marla gave a much edited account of what happened to her. Zoe braked hard, then eased up and glided to a stop. "Captain, look at this." Dead thronged around a building about a block ahead. They pounded on the doors, walls and windows, two, three, even four deep in places. The sign on the top of the building read 'Kiddy Kampus.' "Someone's in there. They wouldn't be acting like that if there weren't." Marla said. Captain Hansen looked studied the scene. "At least three hundred, possibly five." He looked at everyone in the bus, then nodded. "Lets do it." He spoke into the handset. "We have another evac, follow us in, then pull up echelon left. Break. One-One, One-Two, rendezvous two blocks east of point Delta-Six ASAP, Confirm. Over." Two voices confirmed while he gave directions to Zoe. She pulled over to the right, then swung hard left, nearly blocking the street, and then shut down the engine. "Two-Three, sing out if we have trailers." He handed the handset to Jenny and set the younger kids up in their firing positions, giving each a few words of encouragement. Most of the crowd noticed the bus and walked towards it. This time he didn't have them wait. They fired the opening volley at sixty yards. Only two went down, but by the time the first one reached the bus, nearly fifty had fallen in the street. The children continued firing, but slacked off when the bus started shaking. Becky broke first, "Go, Go, there's too many, we gotta go!" The captain rushed over to her, and passed the rifle to one of the older kids. "Don't shoot the ones right next to the bus, hit the ones ten or fifteen feet away." He looked at each person in turn. "Only these weapons fire, we don't want to attract any more than we have to." He sat the girl on the floor opposite the firing position. He grabbed her shoulders, and staring intently into her eyes, spoke with her briefly. She nodded and pulled a pistol from her pocket, holding it ready. Billy was next He didn't scream or anything, but he fired with his eyes closed, again and again. Marla waved to get Jenny's attention. "Go help Billy, he needs a break." He struggled for control of the weapon, but finally Jenny just pulled it away from him and sent him forward. Marla beckoned him over. "What did you see with your eyes closed?" He hesitated, then sank to the floor crying. We were on this bus, and some of my friends got bit. They changed ... I can still see them coming after me, and I didn't have a gun, Only this time Jeremy wasn't there to stop them." Marla patted his shoulder, "If you can't shoot them any more right now, it's ok. Can you work the radios?" He nodded. "Go do that." He sniffled and moved to his sister's seat. Marla looked around for Captain Hansen. He was busy calming down the old man. "You killed my mom! You killed my dad!" Another of the kids lost control, screaming obscenities at the zombies, but he kept shooting. It was Tommy, the kid who'd forgotten the bolt cutters. His eyes were wild with rage and tears streaked his cheeks. A zombie dropped every time he fired. The whole front of the building was clear now, or it would have been if the ones at the back and side hadn't been streaming past. It was hard to guess how many they'd killed already. Minutes passed and the sound of the little rifles seemed to be louder. Someone opened the front door of the preschool, but slammed it again as the movement attracted a dozen passing stragglers. A mangled hand slammed against the chain links over Marla's window, and she jumped, coming up short against her collar. A few had gone around the bus, one of them pounded against the window of the farm truck. The rest tried to climb the sides of the bus to get to the people inside. She watched them fascinated. They didn't seem to have enough strength to pull themselves up, but they kept trying anyway. It could have something to do with not all of the muscle cells contracting properly. Her thoughts were interrupted when Jenny pushed past and gunned them down one after another with a pistol that looked like a ray gun. Marla looked around outside. Instead of a horde of walking dead, there were only a few that struggled to clamber over a wall of corpses. It was high and wide enough to stop the bus or even the semi. A tank or a big dump truck would probably manage, but other than that ... She realized that there were hundreds of bodies there, but that didn't bother her. At least there was a gap wide enough for them to pass. Zoe fired up the engine, and bumped over scattered bodies into the parking lot. The preschool didn't take up the whole building, it shared with an electric supply store. The windows all had security shutters over them, they weren't obvious from a distance, but they were probably the only reason the dead hadn't broken in. The awning was too low to drive under, so they pulled up at least eight feet from the door. The kids had their rifles back, recovering surprisingly quickly. They destroyed the last of the dead in the parking lot in short order ... The shots didn't sound like coughs anymore, more like muffled cracks. The building door swung open again, revealing a gray-haired Asian woman. Captain Hansen gave the cord around Marl's collar a sharp tug and it fell away. "Come on doctor, duty calls. Just watch my back." He moved a pole reinforcing the main door, and Zoe opened it for them. Both her and Jenny held their pistols ready. They stepped out onto the asphalt, then into the shade of the awning. The captain didn't waste any time. "How many of you are there?" The woman looked at him with a mixture of gratitude and suspicion. "Twenty three, I said on phone, what take you so long?" "Has anyone been bitten?" "No, I tell you that too." Rifles barked behind them. "You say you come three day ago." Jeremy leaned out of the bus. "Sir, we've got company. They must have followed us. Hundreds of them just a couple blocks back." Captain Hansen waved an acknowledgment. "Ma'am we didn't talk to you. If you want, we'll take you to a safe place, but we have to leave now. Bring all your food and any firearms, plus any first aid supplies, blankets or warm clothes. But do it quickly, we only have a couple minutes." The old woman didn't hesitate. She called into the building in a language filled with sing song vowels. Two younger women with straight black hair came out, each carrying two babies. They looked a lot like her. The old woman pointed to the bus, giving them more directions, then went back in the the building, waiving for the captain to follow. The captain called four of the older boys to help, and followed her inside. The old woman lined up a dozen kids, none of them older than six, told them to hold hands and chivvied them through the doors held open by the boys and onto the bus. The two younger women seemed to be her daughters, and they picked up plastic tubs full of blankets, passed them to the boys and picked up more before following them out. The old woman pointed to a kitchen area. "All food there, not much left, you take too long. No guns, parents no like." She slipped into another room and came out with two toddlers. She passed them to her daughters. The remainder of the food, a few dozen bottles of peanut butter, boxes of macaroni and cheese, and a couple bags of rice were whisked off to the bus by the teenage boys. Marla didn't carry anything, she held her pistol ready and stuck close to the captain, just like she'd done with Eckert. "You said twenty-three," Captain Hansen said "I only saw twenty-one." The woman threw up her hands. "Is big problem, come see." She led them into the back room, a nursery with rows of cribs. "She back there, you bring. She no listen to me." In the back of the room, under a crib, a woman sat crosslegged on the floor, rocking a whining baby. The captain nodded. "Go out to the bus." He shone a light into the room, illuminating the woman. She ducked her head, her long tangled black hair fell over her face. "United States Army ma'am, we're here to rescue you." She looked up, eyes peeking through her stringy black hair, but she didn't respond, just kept rocking the baby. He nudged Marla forward. "See what you can do doctor. We don't have much time, coax her out if you can." Marla holstered her pistol. On her knees, she reached out to the woman. "Come on out, you're safe now." The woman didn't pull away when she touched her, so Marla gently eased her out from under the high crib and to her feet. She was short, the top of her head didn't reach Marla's shoulder. She was also about twelve years old. Gunfire erupted outside. The captain grabbed them both. "Come on" he urged, and hurried them outside. The boys had the door open for them, but both of them had weapons up and ready covering both directions. Zoe fired her pistol out the driver's window as Marla pushed the girl up the stairs ahead of her. The captain grabbed the boys and pushed them through the open door. He snapped his rifle up to his shoulder and fired three quick shots. Marla fired over Becky's shoulder and dispatched another one coming up behind him. Captain Hansen darted onto the bus, right behind the boys, and shut the door. He dropped the pole in place, the way they had it set up, it wedged the door shut so that it would be nearly impossible to force. "Get moving, head west on the main street." Zoe squeezed off another shot, then gun still in hand, jammed the bus into gear. It lurched into motion, knocking several passengers down. The bus thumped over bodies as it gained speed, A dead woman bounced off the bumper, spinning through the air, one arm torn off by the impact. The younger of the three women they'd picked up looked at the street ahead. It was packed with walking dead. There was no path the bus could take without running over at least a few. The woman screamed. Frightened, the baby she held screamed as well. The rest of the children from the day care, reasonably quiet until then, joined in. The black haired girl whimpered and ducked between two of the seats. Baby still clutched to her chest, she burrowed under a pile of sweatshirts and towels. "Nao chora nao irmazinha, te tenho, te tenho." she murmured. She babbled on, head down, tangled hair covering both their faces. She rocked back and forth, each movement tumbled more sweatshirts from the bench onto and in front of her. The bus roared through the crowded street, avoiding knots of dead, plowing them under by twos and threes. The farm truck followed close behind, sticking to the path cleared by the bus. Behind them both, the semi turned the bodies the bus ran down into a mushy paste. The convoy left a stinking bloody trail of death in its wake. Far ahead, machine guns fired sporadicly. Marla watched the girl. She'd quieted down, but still talked to the baby softly. She offered no resistance when Marla pulled her out from her hiding place and checked her and the baby for bites, but she didn't say anything to anyone but the baby. She spoke only in a language Marla didn't even recognize. The girl showed no sign of understanding English either. The daycare workers came forward to be checked. A widow and her daughters. They complained, but she soothed them, explaining about the bites. After she verified they were clean, she started on the children. There had been more at the center, as well as more employees. The employees had left, and some parents had picked up their kids. "What about her?" she asked, nodding at the girl. The older woman shrugged. "She come with baby's mother. I think she her sister. Maybe, she mother's sister. She no speak English. She come in, get baby, go back out with baby's mother. The dead come, kill mother, pull father from car, eat him, but this girl." she waved across the isle. "She get away, run inside. We lock door and no one go back outside. She no talk since." The girl had seen her parents killed, no wonder she was shocky. Still, she was functional, at least enough to care for her sister. If she had a few personality quirks, well Marla wasn't going to worry about it. She had enough of her own. When the girl was ready to talk, she would. Marla retied the cord, and leaned back to enjoy the ride. She looked at everything, watching for any sign of survivors. The swaying of the bus, the bumps as Zoe ran over corpses, the vibration of the engine, the sharp pervasive smell of burnt gunpowder, the dull aching pain in her thigh, she reveled in every sensation. She slipped her hand into her pants, thinking about Eckert. Everything was for the best, in the best of all possible worlds. ------- Chapter 15 Crack! "Got him!" "He's still twitching." "He went down, it counts." They made a game of it. It made sense, they were still children even if they were in the Army now. What surprised Marla most was that it didn't bother her at all. They were enjoying themselves. They took turns with Jenny's .22 rifle. As the bus passed a zombie, whoever had the rifle took a shot. If they missed, they passed the rifle. Otherwise they got another shot. She wasn't clear what the one with the highest score would win, but the competition was friendly. Zombie killing, a wholesome childhood game, fun for the whole family. The Hum-Vees rejoined the convoy before they left the city limits. The one with the .50 cal, the big machine-gun, took the lead. It sounded single booms and an occasional short burst. Zombies hit by the bullets tended to fall apart. The other, with its smaller gun brought up the rear. The radios chattered, mostly Jeremy talking to the girl at their camp. Their conversation was inane, nothing they said was of any importance, but there was clear affection in their voices. Marla giggled. The world had ended, and still boys and girls went on unchanged. The age old dance of life went on no matter how the music changed. Three hundred kids, she wondered if they should have packed the condoms. But no, probably better in the long run that they hadn't. She looked across at the black haired girl. She seemed to be asleep, still clutching her sister to her skinny chest. If she didn't have that responsibility, the girl might have shattered completely instead of only cracking. Babies would give everyone something to live for, each one a unique reason not to just fold under the pressure. Babies. She'd always wanted children someday. She would probably have one now. Might even already be pregnant, she hadn't brought her pills with her, and she'd done it often enough with Eckert. It was a comforting thought. She put her hand on her bare stomach and wondered, even hoped. The kids kept playing even after the convoy pulled onto the freeway, but the pace of their game slowed. There weren't as many zombies on the interstate, and they missed more often. They crossed over to the wrong side of the road to pass a tangle of wreckage, hundreds of cars. They picked up a few followers, but quickly left them behind. At another tangle they stopped for a few minutes while the captain pulled some bags out of a stalled car, then they pulled up the wrong way to an overpass and headed into the mountains. It was dark when they pulled in. The camp, really an old mining town, was set back in the forest at least a mile from the blacktop. Gravel pinged off the undercarriage of the bus as they pulled up the winding trail and past the barricades. A solid looking gate rolled back and the convoy roared into town, past century old buildings. The convoy pulled into a gravel lot and parked in formation. A crowd of children gathered around, excited voices yelled questions. Captain Hansen moved to the front of the bus. "Everyone wait, you know the drill, no one gets off until the quarantine team comes for us." Marla watched as a small team of soldiers went to the lead Hummer and moved the occupants into a small modern building nearby. They had weapons ready, but didn't actually point them. After a moment Marla realized what it was. Bathrooms, and the road leading into a forested area was campground access. There was even an RV and a few tents in the campground, and both the building and the campground were surrounded by an eight-foot wire fence ... The other military vehicle was next, then the farm truck and the semi. Teams of kids unloaded the vehicles, into wheelbarrows and handcarts. Some teams were supervised by adults, but most were led by older kids. Something about the scene was odd, there were too many girls. She did a quick count, about twice as many as there were boys. Most of the adults were women as well. One of them, a short blonde soldier, knocked on the front door. Captain Hansen motioned to Zoe who opened the door, then he waved the soldier in. The blonde soldier climbed up the steps and saluted. "Glad to see you sir. Everybody came back, good mission." The captain returned her salute, then took her by the hand, a distinctly nonmilitary gesture. "First Sergeant Corbett, This is the Doctor Marla you've been waiting to meet, also Lin-Tai and her daughters who've kept all these children safe until we could reach them. If you've got a place ready, detail someone to get them settled in." He looked at Marla. "Stay a moment Doctor." Sergeant Mel turned a bright cheerful smile on the women. "We've got a place for you to stay tonight, and tomorrow we'll make permanent arrangements." She waved up a teenage girl in camouflage. "Bobbi-Jo will take you in to get cleaned up, then get you some dinner." she turned to the girl. "Check Jenny and Miss Simpkins first, then they can help you check everyone else. All the kids can go with you to the womens showers, get them cleaned up, then take them to those rooms we cleaned out today. I'll send someone over with food." All the girl soldiers filed off the bus, helping with the children. Another soldier came over and led away all the boys and the three survivors that had been picked up before the convoy reached the pharmacy. After the last of the boys filed out, Sergeant Corbett moved back to where Marla sat. She put out her hand. "Welcome to Sulfur Springs Doctor." Marla reached out, but was brought up short by the cord attached to her collar. The blonde woman's face fell. "You've been bitten." It wasn't a question. Marla tapped the side of her knee and winced at the spike of pain She also felt an anticipatory tingle between her legs. "Not sure, it seemed safer to act like I had." The captain cut in. "No symptoms. Either the cutting she did was effective, or she wasn't bitten." "Cutting?" Marla explained what she'd done, along with her theory that it was a blood borne pathogen. "There really wasn't any other choice." she said. "It was a long shot, but better than doing nothing at all." Mel quizzed her about her experience, while the captain checked the bus, looking into each isle. He found the black haired girl asleep under the pile of sweatshirts. He nudged her gently. "Wake up, we're home." She didn't react until he shook her, then she shot up out of the pile, kicking and screaming. The girl's eyes were wide with terror as she attacked him with desperate fury. The baby joined in with a high pitched wail. He backed off, talking to her gently. The change hit her eyes first, then she flew into his arms, weeping nearly soundlessly. He asked her a question, and she answered, face still buried in his chest. The baby screamed again and she pulled a bottle from her bag and gave it to her. The captain pointed to Mel, and spoke softly. The girl nodded. Only then did Marla realize she didn't understand not because he spoke too softly, but because he wasn't speaking English. He led the girl to Mel. "This is Cida. Lets get her and her sister cleaned up and fed. We have a few cases of formula on the bus thanks to Doctor Marla's foresight." He handed Marla a plain black sweatshirt from the pile. "Take this, it should fit." Mel held out her arms to the girl, who hesitated, then went to her. She led Cida down the steps and beckoned Marla to follow her. The building was warm and humid, the huge mirror mounted on one wall was lightly glazed with condensation from the shower running in the stalls at one end of the room. Some female soldiers were washing children in an assembly line fashion. One undressing and checking for bites, another soaping. One in a shower rinsing, another drying and yet another dressing them again. Only a couple of the soldiers could pass for eighteen, the rest were younger. Mel led them to an open stall. "I hope you don't mind sharing." To her surprise, there was hot water. She indulged herself under the warm spray, using plenty of shampoo, and feeling totally clean for the first time in two weeks. Mel helped Cida wash the baby, then held the little one while the girl showered. Marla cut her bandage off and replaced it with a clean dry one from her bag. By the time they finished, all the little kids were gone, led off by the trio of the teenage girls who'd washed them. They dried themselves as best they could on the damp towels, dressed, and went back outside. Eckert and Captain Hansen were waiting for them. Marla's heart skipped a beat when Eckert smiled at her. He lifted her chin up with one finger. "Hold still." He fit a pair of boltcutters to the lock around her neck, took them in both hands and strained. The broken lock popped open with a ping. He tossed it aside and started to take her collar off. "Leave it." Captain Hansen ordered, then explained more gently. "SOP is a week restrained in camp. I don't think its strictly necessary in this case, but if we follow it now, no one has grounds to object in other cases." Reluctantly, Eckert left it on. He took her hand and they walked though town to a doublewide that was set a little away from everything else. Inside, one of the rooms was set up as an infirmary, while another was used as a command post. Captain Hansen held an after action review, where everyone was free to point out what was done wrong, or could have been done better. She noticed he encouraged people to say what they could have done better, not what someone else could have done. Some younger girls brought everyone food while they talked. Fresh baked whole wheat bread, and vegetable soup with a little bit of meat in it. The bread tasted nutty, and was heavier that the bread her grandmother used to make. The soup had instant potatoes added to thicken it a little. She savored every bite. Dessert was a slice of one of the candy bars they'd brought back from the drugstore. Captain Hansen held a little girl on his lap during the meeting. Cida had followed them into the trailer, she sat in a corner playing with her sister. Jeremy wasn't actually in the room, a red-haired girl with a collar around her neck had waved him into an adjoining room filled with electronic equipment. He rolled a chair next to her and held her arm possessively. Eckert did much the same to Marla. She sat in a chair, the collar around her neck tied to the back. He stroked her thigh almost absentmindedly. His fingers burned through the tough denim, leaving fiery trails on her skin. Zoe pretended not to watch them together, every time Marla looked toward her, she looked away, cheeks flushing. Captain Hansen stood, handing the little blond girl off to Mel. "I'll say it again, good mission people. I'm proud of each and every one of you. Get some rest tonight, Planning meeting at oh-six-hundred tomorrow." One of the older boys raised his hand. "You too Alex. Bring it up tomorrow, we'll consider it then. The better, and by better, I mean safer your plan is, the more likely it will happen. Anything else?" He waited, looking at each of them in turn. "No? Get some sleep then." Mel walked towards her, baby on one hip, obviously intending to talk to Marla, but she was intercepted by a little old woman. "Honey, I took a look at what all they brought in today. With all these kids here, it gives us three more days. Not even that much with the extra mouths that came in today. I know your grandpa had a lot down in the mine, but that won't last more than a month. You need to do something now." "Mrs. Morrison," Mel said, "They picked up a big truck today and we'll fill it tomorrow. Don't worry about food, we'll have enough." "All right dear, I know you will take care of it. I'm going to bed now. Someone has got to feed all these kids in the morning." "Don't work too hard, it's more important you teach them how." The old woman nodded and walked through the kitchen and out the back door. Mel sent some girls after her, then came over. "Doctor, we need you to take charge of our infirmary, will you?" "I'm not really..." Mel stopped her with a gesture. "Don't say it. You're the only doctor available. Will you take over?" Marla nodded. "I'll do my best." "That will have to do. You're under quarantine so you'll have to be guarded. I take it you won't mind if sergeant Eckert does that?" "No, not at all." Sergeant Mel studied her eyes, searching for something. "The clinic is just down that hall. We don't have any patients in there right now, but in the morning we'll have sick call. If there is anything you need, tell Sergeant Eckert." She winked at him. "Make sure she gets some sleep." Eckert watched over her while she inventoried the supplies. Whoever had set up the infirmary had done a good job with what they had. A closet had been set up as a bedroom for her, and she had shelves full of supplies, most of which they'd brought from the pharmacy. The bags had just been tossed on the shelves until they were full, then the rest piled on the floor in front. Marla worked for about an hour, then sat down heavily on the bed. She took the handcuffs from her pocket and held them up, dangling from one finger. "Eckert," she called. "Aren't you going to tie me up? Everything was for the best, in the best of all possible worlds. ------- Afterword This started as a thought experiment, what is the worst possible situation in a ZPAW that is still survivable? Waking up being chewed on, and locked in somewhere you can't get out from are just long and short forms of death. So what if ... The lead character got arrested and didn't make it to jail. Handcuffs are a severe handicap while fighting zombies. Have the cops grab him getting out of the shower ... or better yet, grab her. Marla was intended to be the strong female character who triumphed over extreme situations. But ... it turned out that Marla was not as strong her friends and relations thought she was, and under the stress, she broke. She didn't quite shatter completely, but she is broken. She sees herself as property. She belongs to Eckert and she likes it that way. She doesn't have to make the big decisions she's scared of, or worry about tomorrow. Instead she can just deal with everything as it comes, enjoying every minute of life. She acts independently to help others because her owner wants her to. In the short term, for her situation, this is a valid survival tactic and will help keep her alive. Long term, it creates other problems, not least because she is fine with it and will not want to change. But living in a world where the dead roam the streets seeking out the living, long term may be a moot point. I started with the story idea as I said, and outlined it in five pages. From past experience, I expected about twelve thousand words, I wound up with thirty-seven thousand words, three times what I was aiming for. Marla was supposed emerge from her ordeals a stronger, more independent person than she started. You ever hear an author say the characters do things unexpected? I never really believed it until I started writing seriously. Marla is a prime example of this phenomenon. The story diverged from the outline right in the first scene. She was supposed to let him in, he would turn and she'd shoot him. The police would arrest her for killing him, but would have treated her a lot better. So right from the start she was in a worse position than originally intended. The second divergence came when the biker who was supposed to 'rescue' her didn't show up. I must have argued with him for an hour, but he insisted he would not have stayed in the city that long. He was not nearly as evil a person as the MS-13 gang-banger who did finally make an appearance, and while he would have done what he wanted with her, without even asking, she wouldn't have said no. So I changed the outline, a matter of a few lines and it really tied in better with the other stories anyway. So then, after I make the adjustments, and he is about to force her ... She laughs at him. I was shocked, seriously, but it was what she would have done. She saw him for what he really was, a posturing kid. I think that's where the story changed. He didn't force himself on her, couldn't really not with her laughing but his pride was wounded. Initially he would have settled for obedience, but his machismo demanded unconditional surrender. Pushed beyond her limit, that's just what she would have given him. The escape scene was not as originally planned, but I think was better than the initial notion. (Having obtained grudging obedience, he would have let his guard down and she would drive away in the car, leaving the door to the house open.) The other gang members who chased her just showed up, popped up out of nowhere. Because they chased her, she wound up wrecked, and instead of saving Eckert by running down some zombies and picking him up, he wound up saving her. Result? The plot was totally derailed but in the end, it turned out to be a more powerful story. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2011-05-04 Last Modified: 2011-06-06 / 10:10:04 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------