Retaliation: The Mortis Desolation, Book Two (9 page)

T
he backpack
I wore hung heavy on me. I felt as if I was going out for a week, not just for a few hours. I did feel official, though, in my woodland camo gear and with my shiny assault rifle that looked as if it’d barely ever been fired. I also wore a vest that held extra ammunition for my guns, a holster for a pistol, and even a grenade or two. I doubted I would need to use them, but just having them there made me feel better. I felt prepared for anything.

“All right, you ready for this?” Trevor asked as he adjusted a strap on his own gear. We stood in a large elevator that was taking us up. I wasn’t sure exactly how far, but for as long as we were in there, it had to be several stories.

“Yeah,” I said. “I live out there, remember?”

Trevor smirked. “Right, of course.”

The elevator came to a stop, and the five of us got out. Besides Trevor and myself, there were Ulysses, Vince, and Cody. The three of them were in their mid-to-late twenties and were big and muscular. Their hair was cut short and their faces clean shaven.

We began walking up the large tunnel; it was as big and round as the eight tunnels down in the bunker. Unlike in the bunker, however, this one was lit by the soft glow of red lights. It also inclined upward, and after taking a handful of steps, I could see the top of the large bunker door.

The door was majestic, on this side at least. Sleek and massive, it looked as if it could withstand a nuclear blast. And I would have been extremely surprised if it couldn’t do just that.

Trevor walked to the right side of the door, while the rest of his crew stopped a few feet away. I stood with them, trying my best to look as if this was the hundredth time I’ve done this.

A number pad appeared in the smooth steel wall next to the bunker door, and Trevor input a code. He then did a retinal scan before finally radioing back to the bunker, letting them know he was going to open the door. On their end, they went through the same set of security measures before prompting Trevor to enter another passcode. Once he did that, a loud, rumbling sound echoed around the entry chamber, and I felt the ground vibrate beneath my feet.

Ulysses turned to me. “You ready, kid?”

I looked at him and gave him a look that let him know I was offended by his comment. He was just some spoiled brat who went outside when it was time for some training mission. When it was something “fun.” He had no idea what it was really like out there. He had no idea what it was like having to live in constant fear of the zombies, Roves, Xenomortises, and now atras. Which, I guess is why they were giving me this chance to “prove” myself. I knew what it was really like. They mostly had speculation, what they did on their stupid training missions, and whatever else they did on the outside.

“Yeah,” I said with daggers in my words. “I’m ready. I just hope nobody sees you with your baby face. Smooth cheeks like that will stick out like a sore thumb on the outside.”

Ulysses shot me a look, but I ignored him and turned to face the opening bunker door.

“He has a good point,” I heard Cody say to Vince as he rubbed his face.

I tried my best to fight the smirk on my face.

The massive bunker door rolled to the side. It was much taller than the ceiling of the cave. The cave ceiling only went about the third of the way up the bunker door. It made me wonder how they even got the door there in the first place.

“All right,” Trevor said as the Bunker door opened with a
thud
. He stood in front of us, the outside world to his back. “We’re going to get the supplies at Hatch Four. Stay close, and watch each other’s backs. The sun’s high in the sky, so we shouldn’t have to worry about any atras. Still, be extra careful, okay?”

We all nodded in agreement.

“Let’s go.” Trevor turned around and walked out of the bunker.

I followed close behind, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, I was back on the outside.

I
ra sat
at the table in the common room of Jefferson Memorial Bank, eating her breakfast and listening to everyone around her talk amongst themselves. She looked around the room as she ate, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She couldn’t tell who was a Rove and who was from Jefferson Memorial. Everybody sat with each other, talking, eating, and not doing anything that seemed out of the ordinary. But Ira knew that everything was off. Very, very off.

Things were not at all how Ashley described they would be. She walked up to the front door and was brought in with open arms. She wasn’t immediately taken and beaten but instead brought in and given food to eat. She was almost scared to eat the food, but eventually her stomach gave in.

So there she sat, sitting all alone and feeling very confused. No one seemed to be paying her much interest, which just added to the confusion. Nobody seemed to really care she was there. It definitely contradicted with her expectations. It seemed like nothing was wrong at all. Like Jefferson Memorial was a paradise in the desolate world, not a place to be feared and taken down. There wasn’t anybody shouting orders or anyone who seemed superior to anybody else.

It all seemed so strange to Ira.
Too
strange. There definitely had to be something going on, and she needed to find out what. Thankfully, she had a week to do so, so for the time being, the only thing she focused on was the meal in front of her.

A young lady with curly hair came and sat down across from Ira. She held a small baby in her hands, and her face radiated with glee. The smile she wore was huge and a bit unsettling to Ira. “Hi there,” she said. “My name is Bethany.” She held out her free hand.

Ira shook it. “Ira. It’s nice to meet you, Bethany. Who’s your little sidekick?” Ira asked with a smile. She tried her best to sound excited and interested, when in all reality, her stomach was feeling a bit weird.

“This is Kit,” she said as she looked down at the baby in her arms.

“He’s adorable,” Ira said.

“Thank you. Do you have any?”

Ira almost spit out her food. She swallowed hard. “Kids?”

Bethany slowly nodded, giving Ira a strange look.

Ira realized that to Bethany, this wasn’t a weird question at all. It was a perfectly normal interaction. “No, no, I don’t. Kinda busy keeping myself alive. I couldn’t keep up with a child.”

“Well, if you’re going to be staying here, you’re going to be ‘kinda busy’ keeping more than just yourself alive,” Bethany said, looking Ira up and down, offended.

Ira didn’t know how to respond. She was beyond confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just saying—”

“Whatever,” Bethany said, interrupting her. She stood up from the table. “I was trying to be nice. I didn’t think you’d have the audacity to call my child dead weight to my face.”

Ira opened her mouth to say something but was so flabbergasted by Bethany’s accusations that she couldn’t find the words.

Once again, Ira found herself sitting alone. Except now her mouth was hanging open, and she was trying to figure out what just happened. Things were definitely weird at Jefferson Memorial; she’d give Ashley that.

A man who looked to be in his thirties sat down across from Ira. His muscles bulged from his black shirt, and his hair was cut short with his bangs spiked up. He wore the same large smile that Bethany did, and Ira was beginning to wonder if there were some sort of strong happy pills in the food. “Sorry about Bethany,” he said. “She can get a bit defensive.” His voice was soothing and charming. Ira felt herself smiling for real.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m sure mothers are even more protective nowadays, given the environment.”

“You’re right about that.” The man offered his hand to Ira. “Name’s Darren.”

“Ira,” she said, shaking his hand. A question popped into Ira’s head, one that she hoped would help her learn more about what was going on. “So how long have you lived here, Darren?”

“Oh, just a few days, really. Not long at all,” he answered as he took a bite of his bacon.

“’That’s it? How long has this place been here?”

“Oh, just a few days really. Not long at all,” he answered, waving his strip of bacon in the air as he talked.

Ira felt her skin crawl. “Just a few days? I thought this place had been here for a while. It was a bank before, right?”

Darren stared at Ira for a moment, his face blank. Then like a flip switching, he smiled and cocked his head to the right a bit. “You’re right. It has been here for a while. I got confused. I was thinking about something else. This place was called Jefferson Memorial Bank before we got here a few days ago.”

Ira’s body tensed up. “We?”

Darren nodded. “Yes, us Roves. I’m their leader.”

S
o Ashley was right
,
Ira thought.
There are
Roves here.

“Their leader?” Ira asked, feigning interest, when really she was growing afraid. She knew the charade wouldn’t last long. It seemed the jig was almost up, and they’d soon be making her a slave again.

“Yes,” Darren said. He took a sip of orange juice. “I am the leader of the Roves.”

Ira looked at him, confused. “Of
all
Roves? I don’t think so.” She knew Darren
definitely
wasn’t the leader of all Roves. She knew who that was, or at least she had heard stories about him. The leader of the Roves wouldn’t be caught dead chatting it up with a slave over breakfast.

Darren cocked his head to the side as he’d done earlier, confusion in his eyes. “No, I think I am the leader of the Roves.”

Ira shook her head. “Trust me, you’re not.”

Darren shrugged and took a bite of his eggs. “Ah, well. If you say so. I’m not even sure what Roves are in the first place.”

Ira sat back in her seat and had to fight the urge to run out of the room screaming. She had no clue what the hell was going on, and it was beginning to infuriate her. “What do you mean you don’t know what the Roves are? They’re a gang.
You’re
part of a gang. You took this outpost. You’re ruthless; you kill people; you enslave people.” Ira was beginning to raise her voice. Darren just looked at her with wide eyes, taking in the information she was telling her. He looked as if he was a child being scolded. “How could you not know that?”

Darren looked away as he processed what Ira had just said.

Ira wasn’t even sure why she said those things. If he didn’t know who the Roves were, why’d she even say anything in the first place? What harm was there in him not knowing his role in the ruthless gang? She was just confused and scared and wanted to know what was going on.

“Hey, Ira,” a familiar voice said from behind Darren. Ira looked up and saw Bethany standing there without Kit. “I just wanted to say that I’m sor—”

Before she could finish her words, Darren stood from his seat, pulled out a pistol, and fired two slugs into Bethany’s chest. Ira’s ears started ringing. Bethany fell to the ground, bleeding from the holes in her chest.

Ira raced into action. She jumped over the table and got next to Bethany. She put pressure on the wounds, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Was that ruthless? Was that what a Rove would do?” Darren asked from behind Ira.

Ira looked up at him, and the look on his face sent chills down her spine. It wasn’t the look of a killer. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes were wide and questioning. His questions were genuine, and the tone in his voice was like a young child. He looked like he was totally innocent.

Ira couldn’t stand to look at him. She looked into Bethany’s eyes. She wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. After a few moments, Bethany stopped breathing. Bethany was dead.

Ira looked at the blood on her hands. She felt responsible for Bethany’s death. She didn’t have the energy to fight it off, but she also didn’t have the energy to feel too guilty about it either. All she could feel was anger, because as she looked around, everybody continued to eat and talk as if nothing had happened.

As if two gunshots hadn’t just gone off.

As if someone ’hadn’t just died.

“What the hell is going on?” Ira said beneath her breath. Her eyes glazed over, and she stared at nothing. “What the hell is going on?” she said again. “What the hell is going on?”

“Wow, your hands look messy.”

Ira looked up and saw a man standing above her. He looked young and had a round face. His hair was curly and thick.

Ira didn’t say anything in response. She was still in shock.

“Come on,” he said, reaching his hand out. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Ira just looked up at him and then back down at her hands.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I can wash my hands too. I don’t mind them getting dirty.”

Ira looked into his eyes and she felt something different there. Something unlike everybody else’s. Fear. He was doing a good job of hiding it with his body language and voice, but his eyes didn’t lie. He was afraid.

Ira was comforted by that. This was affecting him in some way. Hopefully it would lead to some answers. Ira grabbed his hand, and he helped her up. “What’s your name?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Andrew,” he said.

“Ira.”

Andrew leaned in close. “Well, Ira, I hope you’ve figured out by now that this is one messed-up place.”

I
ra stood
outside and washed Bethany’s blood off her hands. The warm water in the bucket soothed her shaking hands. She wished it was washing over her, soaking her entire body. A
shower
. That’s what she wanted. A lifetime ago showers were her resort. She hadn’t had one in a very long time, but she wanted one more than ever in that moment.

“Once we’re clean, we’ll go somewhere where we can speak,” Andrew said.

Ira nodded her head. She couldn’t come up with a response. She was so lost and confused, and she was beginning to feel apathy creep up on her. She just wanted to go somewhere, collapse, and be left alone for a very long time.

She grabbed the towel that Andrew was offering her and dried off her hands.

“Follow me, Ira,” he said.

The two of them walked back inside Jefferson Memorial and crossed the commons area. People were finishing up their meals, acting as if nothing had happened. Ira found herself wanting to look and see if Bethany’s body was still lying there, but she forced herself to stay focused on the back of Andrew’s head. She didn’t want to know because something was telling her that she wouldn’t like what she saw.

Andrew led Ira to an area behind the tellers’ window. In front of her was a large, round safe door. It was about ten feet in diameter and sat open. Inside, Ira could see a tent and some supplies.

Andrew stood by the door and gestured for Ira to enter. She hesitated for a moment. She didn’t like the idea of being in a vault with someone from a place as weird as this. Still, she really didn’t have another option. Andrew seemed to be the most normal person there, and he was going to be her best bet at finding answers.

Ira entered the safe. Andrew entered behind her and turned on a couple of large flashlights that sat diagonally on the floor. There were a few sitting on top of safety deposit boxes that were pulled out from their drawers on the wall.

Andrew walked over to the safe door and began pulling it shut.

“You aren’t going to lock that, are you?” Ira asked.

Andrew chuckled. “Of course not. Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Ira felt herself relax a bit. The last thing she wanted to do was be
locked
inside a vault with Andrew.

“What’s going on here?” Ira asked, getting straight to the point.

Andrew leaned against the wall next to the vault door, the light from the flashlight not providing much light. “I’m not entirely sure. I just have a few ideas.”

“Well, start at the beginning.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “A few days ago—maybe a week, I don’t know—the Roves came and took over. Things were going…well, like how you’d expect. Anybody who lived here before the Roves became slaves, and anybody who defied them were killed. A few days later, though, we were attacked by these creatures. I don’t know what they were, except they were horrifying. They were black and quick as lightning. They would envelop whomever they were attacking with their part liquid bodies and then disintegrate—both the human and the creature themselves.”

Ira felt her mouth hang open and her skin go cold. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What Andrew was saying couldn’t be true. Those creatures didn’t exist.
Couldn’t
exist. There was just no way. Andrew had to be crazy, just like everyone else. Still, Ira didn’t stop him. She wanted to hear more before she decided for sure if Andrew was crazy.

“I was able to get in here,” he said gesturing to the vault around him. “I shut the door behind me and propped everything I could up against it. The creatures didn’t bother me. They didn’t try getting in here, so I’m the only one who survived.”

“What do you mean? It looks to me as lots of people survived,” Ira said.

“That’s just it,” Andrew said, standing up from his leaning position. He began pacing back and forth. “The next day, I took a peek out. There’s this black liquid everywhere, and who do I see cleaning it up? Everybody who was here the day before. They were cleaning up the mess, and those who weren’t were going about their day as if nothing happened. I couldn’t explain it—
can’t
explain it. Those creatures came, seemingly killed everybody, but the next day everybody was back.”

“But they aren’t normal,” Ira said with confidence. “There’s something off about them.”

Andrew nodded his head. “Exactly. They have the same bodies as those before, but it’s just a shell. They’re acting like robots or something. They seem to have the memories of the people they used to be, but they don’t know how to act like those people.”

Ira couldn’t believe she was asking this question, but it seemed logical given the situation. “Are
they robots?”

Andrew scoffed. “You saw the blood from Bethany. Definitely not robots.”

Ira eyed Andrew suspiciously. “You don’t seem too upset over the fact that Bethany is dead.”

Andrew shrugged. “To me, she died a couple days ago. I don’t know what these people are now, but they aren’t who they were before.”

Ira took a deep breath. “Okay, so is there any way we can bring them back? Make them who they were before?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.”