Broken World (Book 3): Mad World (9 page)

The animal inside me finds its way to my heart and takes a big, fuckin’ bite outta it. “You’d still get her? If I didn’t make it back?”

Winston puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’d try.”

“You two pussies gonna make out now?” Angus growls.

Winston drops his hand.

“I ain’t lettin’ you go alone,” Angus says. “I’ll go in with ya. Maybe get me a night with that Hollywood chick.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, and I gotta turn away before I beat the shit outta him. I ain’t never punched Angus, but I’m ‘fraid that by the time I get Vivian back, it’s gonna happen. He’s pissin’ me off.

I turn to face Jon, glarin’ at him for a few seconds before talkin’. “First thing we gotta do is head out to Boulder City and get us that fuel. Unless you know of a place ‘round here that ain’t been hit?”

Jon shakes his head, but he’s too scared to actually look at me. Good. “Most places ran out of fuel before the zombies even popped up. Every station I’ve hit has been bone dry.”

“Figured,” I mutter, turnin’ away from the prick. “Who’s goin’?”

Winston tilts his head toward Angus. I know what’s he’s sayin’.

When I turn toward Nathan, I find I’m suddenly not as pissed at him. Not with Jon standin’ on the other side of me. “You wanna head on over there with Angus, Jon, and me?”

Nathan nods slowly. Like he ain’t too thrilled ‘bout it. Guess we ain’t the best company.

“Alright, then. We’ll head out now. Run on over to Boulder City and get us a few cans full of diesel. We’ll drop Nathan off here before the three of us head into the Monte Carlo, that way you know we made it safe.”

Winston nods and holds his hand out. I take it in mine, ignorin’ the way Angus is eyeballin’ us. I don’t give a shit what he thinks. I told him before, things are changed. He’s gotta learn. All that racist bullshit he’s got goin’ on in his head don’t mean nothin’ no more. Probably never did.

“Be careful,” Winston says.

I nod, slap him on the back, and head toward the stairs. “I ain’t plannin’ on dyin’ today.”

9
Vivian

DINNER IS PRETTY MUCH EXACTLY THE SAME as lunch. Only this time, Hadley and I get our hands on a Snickers bar, a bag of chips, some chocolate chip cookies,
and
a bag of fruit snacks. Not exactly the healthiest meal, but I’m satisfied. We split it between the three of us before digging in, and I try my best to avoid the glares Dirty Blonde throws my way.

Our dinner of vending machine cast-offs is followed closely by the reappearance of the linebackers. Not a surprise, but it still makes my body start to shake the second they open the door.

They walk around the room, yanking women to their feet and shoving them toward the door. Kicking anyone who gets in their way. I shrink down. Like it will make me invisible. Right. No such luck. Of course, luck has never really been on my side. Zombies can’t change that. Maybe whoever requested me changed their mind? I can only hope.

It’s no surprise when Linebacker One stops in front of me. A sickening smile lights up his broad face. He reaches down, and I gasp when his fingers dig into my forearm. He jerks me to my feet, and my heart pounds so hard it vibrates against my ribs. It isn’t until I see him jerk Hadley to her feet too that I almost throw up.

“Both you girls have dates for the evening,” he sneers. He takes way too much enjoyment in his job.

Hadley lets out a little sound that’s somewhere between a whimper and a scream, and I throw myself in front of her. There has to be way out of this. At least for Hadley.

“Who wants her?”

Linebacker One rolls his eyes and pushes me aside. He grabs Hadley and pulls her forward. “We’ve got guys dying out there on the Strip for a chance to get with Hadley Lucas. She’s going to be very popular.”

He yanks us toward the door. Each one of his meaty hands gripping an arm. He moves fast like he can’t wait to deliver us to whatever form of hell these men have created in this hotel. I try to keep up, but it isn’t easy. My feet stumble over the blankets and pillows spread out on the floor. Hadley has a difficult time, too. And she’s crying. I can tell she’s trying to be quiet about it, but it isn’t working. The sound of her sobbing squeezes my heart, and I desperately try to think of a way out of this. But there’s nothing I can do. We are screwed.

A short, round, balding man stands in the hallway when we step out. His face lights up, and he hops around on his toes like a little kid. My stomach lurches.

“I told you we’d bring her down,” Linebacker One snaps. He shoves women toward the elevator where Linebacker Two waits.

The bald man smiles and looks Hadley up and down. He acts like he’s won the damn lottery. I just can’t wrap my mind around what’s about to happen. He looks so average. Like an accountant or an elementary school principal. A dad. Not a rapist. Not someone who’s so freaking happy to be a rapist.

“I couldn’t wait,” he gushes.

My stomach twists inside out.

The linebacker shoves Hadley toward him. “You can handle her?”

The man nods and pulls her toward the elevator. “Oh, I can’t wait to handle her.”

Hadley turns her tear-stained face toward me like I can do something to save her. I can’t. God, I wish I could. I do my best to put on brave face. It’s fake. There isn’t a brave bone in my body right now. My legs are like Jell-O, and the Snickers bar has turned into a rock, churning the contents of my stomach as I walk.

The elevator is crowded tonight. The linebackers, seven other women, me, Hadley, and the bald man. He shoves Hadley against the wall the second we’re in and starts groping her. Kissing her. He runs his tongue across her face, and I gag. She struggles, but he presses his body up against her and pins her hands to her sides. He’s stronger than he looks.

I can’t watch, so I turn away.

The elevator opens on eight, and the linebacker pulls me forward, laughing. Like this is a carnival or a comedy club or Disneyland. He’s lucky I’m not armed. I’d happily chop his head off. Then spit in the stump.

I squeeze my eyes shut and allow the chuckling linebacker to drag me down the hall. Please let it be Jon. Please. Or another desperate person. Surely there’s someone else in the hotel who wants me to help him rescue a family member. Wouldn’t that be funny? Men lining up to get me to help formulate an escape plan. Like I’m a secret agent, not an ex-stripper.

Linebacker One comes to an abrupt stop, and the click of a door makes me open my eyes. He hasn’t even knocked yet. Tat stands in the open doorway with an evil smile curling up his lips.

My legs wobble, and I stagger back. Tat grabs my arm and jerks me into the hotel room. I fall to my knees. The door slams behind me, and I scramble to my feet. My heart pounds harder. Faster. Trying to escape my body. Escape. I need to escape. I frantically look around. There has to be a way out. Some way to get free. I’m panicked. More terrified than I’ve ever been in my entire life. It makes my body shake. I can’t control it.

Tat chuckles, and I spin around to face him. His hand makes contact with my cheek, and my head jerks back. My face stings and my eye throbs where his fingertips smacked against it, but it brings me back to the present. To who I am. Tat isn’t any scarier than my dad was. Not really. I put up with Roger’s rage for years. I can take this.

I can.

Tat’s eyes cloud over and he takes a menacing step forward, but I don’t flinch. I keep my head up. I know his kind. He lives for fear. Wants to hear me cry. Wants me to beg for mercy. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“You think you’re tough?” That same sadistic smile that made me want to throw up when he first opened the door curls his lips. “You aren’t.”

His fist slams into my cheek. I cry out and stumble back. Intense pain radiates across my face. There’s nothing worse than the feeling of bone on bone. It makes me think of my father. My eyes tear up, and I take a step back. I rub my face and do my best not to think about that bastard. Having Roger’s ghost in the room with us will only make all of this harder to deal with.

Tat takes a step closer, smiling wickedly. My eyes dart around the room. I need a weapon or a place to hide. But there’s nowhere to go. Nothing that can help me. He knows it.

Two quick steps, and his fist makes contact with my face for the second time. This time he gets my left eye. Stars burst across my vision like it’s the Fourth of July. I stumble again and end up slamming into the desk, knocking over a lamp. It crashes to the floor, shattering.

I’ve barely had time to recover when Tat grabs a handful of my hair. He jerks me forward, and I scream. I try to slap his hands away. He just pulls harder. My scalp stings and I’m sure I’m about to lose a chunk of hair.

He slaps me across the face, and I hit the floor. My lungs sting as much as my face throbs. I gasp and try to get a mouthful of air. Tat steps closer. He’s going to kill me.

Someone pounds on the door, and Tat freezes. My head pulsates. Like there’s a drum pounding inside my skull. Tat glares down at me. There’s another knock, and he blows air out through his nose like a bull. Tat crosses the room and jerks the door open. Linebacker One stands in the hall.

He looks past Tat to where I’m sprawled out on the floor. Blood trickles from my nose, and my eye throbs in a way that I know means it’s getting ready to swell shut. I probably look pretty messed up.

The linebacker shakes his head. He doesn’t look apologetic or concerned, just annoyed. “You can’t leave a mark on the merchandise. You’ve been told.”

Tat scowls and glances at me. His eyes burn with rage. “She’s my payment. I should be able to do whatever I want with her.”

“The last girl you did whatever you wanted with is still recovering. The boss wants to make sure you don’t damage this one. He won’t put up with it.” The linebacker’s voice is firm. Hard despite the high octave. There’s a definite threat in his words, and Tat knows it.

Tat curls his upper lip. He shoots daggers at the linebacker with his eyes, but all he does is shrug. “Fine.”

He slams the door in the linebacker’s face, and I hold my breath while I wait to find out what’s going to happen. Tat’s back is to me. He clenches his fist, then spins around and slams it into the wall. He throws what can only be described as a temper tantrum. Pulling pictures off the walls and smashing the television with a lamp. He rips the sheets off the bed and lets out a scream of fury while I cower on the floor. Doing my best to stay out of his way. He keeps looking at me, pacing back and forth. Throwing things.

Even after all my years with Roger and all the zombies I’ve encountered, this is the most terrifying moment of my life. Waiting to find out what Tat is going to do.

Finally yanks me off the floor and throws me on the bed. I kick and twist. His face is red and sweaty, and he’s focused on only one thing. Rage. He grabs my shirt, and it comes off my body in one terrifying rip. He straddles me. My legs are pinned down. I slap at his face, but he grips my wrists in one of his hands and pins them down as well. There’s nothing to protect me now but a skimpy thong. I twist and squirm. Scream and thrash. Tat is too strong.

My bare skin is his to torture. He gropes and squeezes and bites. I howl in pain. Like a wild animal caught in a trap. There’s no escape. No matter which way I twist, his teeth or hands are there to torment me. There’s nothing I can do, and staring at his face only makes it so much more painful. The evilness in his eyes seeps inside me.

I turn my face away from him and close my eyes. Blocking him out is my only defense.

He rips the underwear from my body, and I squeeze my eyes tighter. The sound of his zipper makes me shake, and I do my best to leave my body as he wiggles out of his pants. His skin is warm against mine. He rubs against me while his hands do their worst. I don’t move. Don’t fight. There’s no point.

Minutes go by with him on top of me. Squirming. Groping. Rubbing. Nothing else happens. He moves faster and makes frustrated noises. Then starts to curse. He’s furious. Cussing. Growling. Still, nothing happens. Nothing. I finally open my eyes. Tat’s face is bright red and his jaw is clenched. His eyes are closed like he’s concentrating. But there’s still no progress. He can’t get it up.

I let out a bitter laugh. I can’t hold it in.

Tat flinches, and his eyes fly open. He turns them on me, and they burn with hate. “What the fuck are you laughing about?”

“You having a little trouble?” I know I shouldn’t make him angry, but I can’t help it. He’s so pathetic-looking. Desperately trying to get off. But he can’t, not without the violence.

Tat lets go of my hands and jumps up. He screams in frustration. Then pulls his arm back. I shrink down and wait for the blow. But he obviously thinks better of it, because he turns around and slams his fist into the wall. Leaving behind little splatters of blood.

“Shit!” He starts pacing the room. Throwing and kicking things like a three-year-old. “Fucking zombies!”

He stops and glares at me. I pull the sheet up to my chin, feeling more naked than ever under his angry gaze. But deep down I know he’s not going to do anything. He isn’t stupid. If he beats the shit of me, he’ll be out on his ass. On the Strip. Which means he’ll be zombie food.

He takes a menacing step toward me. “You’re lucky.”

I almost roll my eyes. I feel real lucky. “Fuck you.”

“Don’t piss me off,” he growls.

I clamp my mouth shut. Pushing him right now would be a very bad idea.

He puts his pants back on, saving me from the torture of having to look at his useless dick, then goes back to pacing the room. He pauses every now and then to look at me. My heart pounds harder with every glare he throws my way. After a few minutes, he crosses the room and grabs me by the hair. He jerks me off the bed and drags me to the door.

I’m naked, but he doesn’t seem to care. He leads me out of the room and down the hall toward the elevator, gripping my hair tightly. The skin on my scalp throbs. I can only imagine the bald spot I’m going to have after this. We pass a few men in the hall who stop to leer at me, but Tat doesn’t slow.

He shoves me into the elevator when the door opens, and I lean against the wall, gasping for breath while I do my best to cover myself. My face and head throb. My eye feels like it’s on the verge of swelling shut. I’m going to be black and blue. But it isn’t the worst thing that could have happened to me, so I can’t really complain.

Especially when I think about Hadley.

Tat is so angry when he steps into the elevator his body shakes. Two men follow us in. They stand across from me. Ogling. I doubt they have anywhere to go. They probably just wanted to stare. I give them the finger.

They elevator opens, and the stench of rotten flesh hits me like a slap in the face. He’s taking me back. Did he really give up so easily?

Tat shoves me out of the elevator, and I slam into Linebacker One. His arms go around me, and he does his best to pretend he’s trying to keep me from falling. Right. Like he needs to squeeze my tits to be sure I don’t fall on my ass. I shove him away, but he’s too busy staring at Tat with his mouth hanging open to slap me.

“What are you doing?” the linebacker asks in his Mike Tyson voice. He sounds like he sucked in a mouthful of helium.

“I’m finished with this bitch. Don’t want her in my room,” Tat says.