Zombie High Chronicles (Book 1) (9 page)

“Fear, Tyrel. Genuine, paralyzing fear. Desperation leads people to do crazy, yet brilliant things if it can lead to their survival.”  

I sit back and place my laced fingers on the crown of my head and blow  out a long breath.

“I think they've been telling the truth. They really don’t have a clue what caused this.”

Tyrel stares at me for a moment as I process the truth of my statement and then feel him stand. He hesitates a moment before turning back. “I know you like to do things you own way, but you might want to keep that revelation to yourself. Stealing away people’s hope, when it’s the only thing they’ve got left, might not go in your favor.”

I watch him walk away, pausing to place a comforting hand on Isa’ shoulder before moving off to sit with Coleman and Roderick.

“That was some deep shit you two were chatting about,” Teegan says.

I lean back so that I don't get baby slapped by her stomach as she sinks ungracefully onto the cot in front of me.

“Does being pregnant affect your hearing as well as that smart tongue of yours?” She laughs and then blows out a long breath between pursed lips. She looks flushed and the skin around her eyes is more pinched than normal. The way she holds her belly with clenched fingers makes me wonder if she's going to try to pop out the kid here in front of me.   “You ok over there?””

“Don’t tell me that under all of that selfish bravado you actually care, Roan.”

I want to be offended by her callous tone but I know she is right. I don't really care. At least I shouldn't beyond the point where my needs for information potentially ended tonight. She seems decent enough but I know nothing about kids and have no intention of learning. Still...her suffering bothers me and I hate that.

“Don’t worry, she groans and leans back onto the cot, using the back metal frame to hold her upright. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m not going to have anyone’s death on my conscience. If word spread through the group that those pansy soldiers have been spying on us the entire time it would create a panic we don't need.”

She has a valid point. News like that could lead to chaos and if proven to be correct could induce possible suicides. I don’t exactly want my name stamped on any of those either, but they need to know the truth. I just have to find the right of telling them.

I scratch the back of my head. When the hell did I become the guy with that job? I never wanted any of this. I just want to be left alone, not lead. I'm the worst sort of guy for that job.

“You told me this morning that you thought the docs want my baby. You’re right, you know?” Teegan says softly. “I’ve heard them talking when they think I’m sedated. Apparently I have a pretty high tolerance for medication.”

“That must suck.”

“You have no idea.”  

“Why have they been sedating you?”  That was odd. None of us had ever undergone tests that needed such an extreme drain on supplies.

She wipes her forehead and shifts again, propping her arms out to the sides to try to help her balance out the weight straining on her back.

“They claim my baby has been under too much stress since I got here. Poor nutrition, inadequate diet, no vitamins...that sort of thing. They've been monitoring me daily for a while now, but I can see they are getting more anxious about the delivery with each day that passes. And here I thought that was my job,” she snorts.

At first, I want to believe that it's all bunk, that their anxiety is faked for her benefit, but as I press my head back against the wall I realize it must be true. Why else would they monitor her so closely? They need her to deliver a healthy baby, and I need to know why.

“Have you heard them say anything else? Anything that would lead you to understand why they are going to such great lengths?”

She nods slowly. “I'm one of four ladies close to term. One went into labor yesterday during my testing. Sure did create one heck of a ruckus. One minute I was prepping to have my blood drawn and the neck there was a flurry of doctors and nurses, curtains drawn and I was being escorted out to head to school early. I had a personal escort.”

That I don't like to hear.  They didn’t even finish her blood work.

“We're you able to see anything?”

“Nothing. They made sure of it as they shoved me through the back door.” She pushes upright and wraps her arms around her. “But I know what they are doing, or at least what they want to do: Stem Cell research.”

“That’s on unborn babies, right?” I know the term only in one of those “yeah, I heard about that once one social media” sorts of ways. My lack of understanding must be pretty clear because she laughs and takes pity on me.

“Well, that depends on your definition of when life begins, but yes, in theory, that would be embryonic stem cells. But after a baby is born, stem cells can also be pulled from the umbilical cord, breast milk, and even bone marrow.”

“Well that’s good, right? That means your baby will live.”

She shakes her head. “They’ve already begun collecting from my umbilical cord. They just don’t know that I know.”

When she lifts her shirt I see bandaged incisions along her abdomen and suddenly understand far more about her comments dealing with sedation. I feel a pang of regret for her when she lets her shirt fall back into place. She’s alone and probably scared and I’m the one guy she’s telling about it. Dammit.

I’m no hero but the way she’s looking at me right now makes it pretty darn clear that she’s hoping I will choose to be in her case.

“I’ve heard the doctors arguing about it,” she whispers. The cot creaks beneath her as she tries to push forward. “The procedure isn’t supposed to be done until after the birth but I think they are desperate for a cure. Stem cells used to be able to treat blood disorders and immune issues. They think that whatever this virus is that’s creating the Lame Brains might be able to be reversed using those cells.”

I blink several times, feeling like I’d just suffered through an info dump of epic proportions landing on my head. When I finally focus on Teegan again I see moisture lining her lashes and shift uncomfortably. I never know what to say when girls cry.

“Do you think they could do it?”

When she shrugs I realize just how small her shoulders are. They are hollowed out and carved deep enough to see skin stretched tight over bone. The doctors were probably force-feeding her through IV tubing as well.

I wasn’t around when she arrived, she was already here, but I can only imagine the state that she was in when they found her.

“Look, Roan, I know that you’re just trying to look out for number one. I get that, I really do, but you need me just as much as I need you. If we get out of this hell hole and things go back to normal, I’ll be your eyes and ears inside of that lab if you promise to do whatever you can to help me save my baby when the time comes.”

That is a hard pill to swallow. Promising to bust into a secure medical facility when she goes into labor isn’t exactly a small thing. Or what if things don’t improve and she is forced to give birth right here in this dank room and I am stuck having to protect her instead of escaping with my mom?

“Please,” she whispers and reaches out to place her hand on top of mine. “I wouldn’t ask unless I had to.”

“Yeah, I know that. You’re a hard-ass just like me.” I offer a small smile. “I’ll do what I can but you gotta know I can’t guarantee that I can pull it off. I’m good but I’m outnumbered. I’m sure a few of these guys would join in but they aren’t trained.”

“They’ve got hearts and that’s a lot more than I can say for those doctors. I’d put my money on you any day, Roan.”

I grimace. “You done with the mushy crap now?”

She smiles and pulls her hand back. “It’s about all I can stomach for now.”

I laugh. “You know...you’re not half bad.”

“I was just thinking the same thing myself.”

She rocks forward and clings to the front of the cot. The back two legs start to rise off the ground and it takes me a couple of seconds to realize that she’s trying to stand up.  I lurch forward and grab hold of her arm, easing her up to her feet. Her breathing is labored by the time she regains her balance steady. “Thanks for that. This whole being pregnant thing is a real bitch.”

I stand watching her as she waddles back over to her corner. There is a stash of water and snacks untouched on the end of her bed. From just off to the side I see Sammy eyeing her food and I swear that if that kid takes a single bite from Teegan I will lay into him hard.

“Feels weird, huh?”

I turn to see Ember standing next to me. “What does?”

“Caring.”  With a knowing smile, she saunters back toward her cot, leaving me lost for words.

7

Flirting is only great when it’s directed at me.

Sometime during the night, when the only sound I can hear is the steady drone of a nasal foghorn coming from across the room, I notice something feels off. Lifting my head off of my pillow I see nearly sixty occupied cots and sleeping teens. A pig snort catches my attention and I drill Sammy’s sleeping form with a laser glare. Of course, he is the source of the fog horn. I should have recognized it but I never spent all that much time in our room at night.

Pushing back my blanket, I sit up and looked around. I still have on my boots as a force of habit since the world went spiraling down the crapper. You just never know when you will need to run. I grab my jacket from where it hangs off the edge of the bed and swing it around my shoulders, threading my arms through as I peer through the dark. Something is definitely different. I just can’t place my finger on it but I’ve learned to trust my gut and right now it’s rolling hard.

“Go back to bed, son,” one of the soldiers near the door says as I approach.

“Aren’t you a bit too ugly to have a son as handsome as me?”

He glares down at me, his finger twitching against the trigger of his gun, but when his partner kicks him in the shin, the insulted soldier scowls and then rests the weight of his gun on his hip. At least that means he isn’t going to slam that thing into my head...yet. I’m sure that I can stomach a second brain omelet in a single day.

“What do you want?” The partner asks. I can tell he doesn’t give a shit. His eyes are hooded with sleep and I’ve probably rudely awakened him while on watch. Not that I blame him. There is anything riveting going on around this place.

“I gotta take a piss,”  I add a little crossed knee action for his benefit.

“Use the toilet over there.”

I turn to follow the direction of his hand and then scoff. “I don’t piss in buckets.”

“Well, you aren’t going to find a tree in here, kid.”  Lt. Jacobson, the slightly more likable part of the duo, chews obnoxiously on a large wad of bright pink gum. I catch a faint whiff of watermelon and smirk. He sure is a real man’s man. I feel safer already.

“Look, I don’t want to cause any trouble here, guys. I just want to take a piss so why don’t you just open that door a little so I can slip out and find a tree and I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”

“Not gonna happen.”  Lt. Clockman, aka Ugly Face from now on because of the sneer that seems glues onto his features, looks eager to shove my nose straight through the back of my head. I know that I can probably outrun him. He is too stocky and would be slow on the getaway, but he is tall enough to have a long reach. I weigh out my options and decide that I can take him.

I make a lunge for the keys at his belt and almost hook my finger around them before I feel the barrel of his gun slam into my back. I hit chest first onto the concrete floor and groan as a heavy foot immediately stomps down on my spine, holding me in place.

“Bastard,” I growl and fight against his foot. “I should have taken you for a pansy who only hits from behind!”

“Now why would you go and pull a stunt like that, kid?”  I turn my face to see Lt. Jacobson kneeling beside me.

“Something’s going down out there and I want to know what it is.”  Spittle darkens the floor in front of my mouth. My cheekbone aches as Ugly Face shoves me harder against the floor.

“Even if there was, which there isn’t,” he says, patting the radio at his shoulder which has remained annoyingly silent since we entered the bunker, “you’d be the last person we’d tell.”

“I’ve got rights!”

Ugly Face chuckles and if I could have managed it, I might have been tempted to take a chunk out of his leg just to shut him up. “What rights do you think you still have in a world like this, son?”  

He places extra emphasis on the word son just to tick me off and it works.

“Don’t you care that you’re being lied to?”  I decide a different angle might work better with these two blockheads. “I’ve got family up there right now. You probably do too. Doesn’t it bother you that we’ve been locked away while they might be dying? You heard the message just like I did. It was a containment breach. Sure sounded pretty serious when those sirens went off.”

When Ugly Face laughs again, it doesn’t sound quite so deeply rooted with mockery. Maybe he’s got a Ma and Pa topside. Maybe he’s got a girl he’s sweet after. Either way, I know that I’ve managed to dig into that thick skull of his just enough to make him question.

His boot shifts on my back and Lt. Jacobson glances up at him. “It has been radio silent for a while,” Jacobson says.

“Shut your pie hole,” Ugly Face rasps back. I wish that I could see his face. I’d give anything to witness his rapid decline into fear but I’ll have to settle with savoring the telltale tremor in his voice. “We’ve got orders and we’re going to follow them.”

“Sure,” I wiggle beneath his boot, trying to ease some of the pressure off of my ribs. The floor isn’t exactly a forgiving surface to be crushed against. “I can see why you’d remain loyal. I mean, it’s not like your commander thinks you can handle the tough stuff. How hard can it be to babysit a few kids? Yeah, I wouldn’t rock that boat either. Let the real men fight to save your asses while you stay right where you belong, taking out piss in buckets.”

When Ugly Face stamps down hard on my back, I realize that maybe I should have held my tongue on that last part, but that isn’t in my nature to sugar coat words. I am a wise ass to a painful fault.

“Is there a problem here, gentleman?”

I nearly groan aloud for a second time when I hear Ember’s footsteps behind me. The girl has balls and I’m torn between admiration and downright annoyance.  I’d started to get somewhere with those two idiots and she just ruined the moment.

“Not at all.”  Jacobson’s responding grin when Ember bats her eyelashes makes me want to hurl.  “This student was just in need of a lesson in manners.”

“Oh,” she glances down at me and I notice a slight widening of her eyes before she looks away, “of that I have no doubt. Roan isn’t exactly known for playing well with others.”

Jacobson lets out a wheezing laugh and then rises to his feet. I’m not really sure how Ember holds a straight face when he winks at her because I am busting a gut, or at least trying to but expanding said gut is made a bit difficult by the damn boot holding me down.

“Is there something that you need, Miss?”

Ember seems to think it over for a moment before stepping over me and moves closer to Ugly Face. I roll my eyes and decided it is far better to stare at the dried bubblegum smear on the floor less than three inches from my nose than to watch her flirt.  

“Well, I couldn’t help but overhear your...conversation with Roan and I was wondering if there might be any news from topside. My mother is up there and I’m so worried that something has happened to her. I’ve been tossing and turning and I’m nearly beside myself with worry. I’d sure feel a lot better if there was some way that I could know she’s safe.”

“I’m sure sorry to hear that you’ve been worrying,” Jacobson says,  “I guess we could make a call and check for you. What do you think, Clockman?”

Ugly Face shifts his boot, grinding the tread into my spine. I grit my teeth and refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing my cry of pain. “I ain’t doing it just because you’re sweet on her, Jacobson.”

“I’m not...whatever man. Just make the call. You know you’re curious too.”

“Maybe but I’ve got orders.”

“Do you?” I glance up when Ember softly questions him. “I’m sorry to interrupt you but it’s been hours since we heard anything. How do you even know if there’s anyone left up there to give orders?”

Ugly Face applies more pressure to the ball of his feet as he leans closer to her and I feel my ribs begin to grind against my skin.

“She’s got a point, Clockman. We need to know.”

I hold my breath through the pain and nearly expel it in one great gust when he pulls back and the pain in my chest diminishes enough to allow me to think again. “Fine. I’ll make the call but when they come down on me for it, you’re taking the fall. I ain’t being reprimanded because you’re hot to trot, Jacobson.”

“Oh, that is simply wonderful!” Ember cries and latches onto Jacobson’s arm. Now I know I’m going to be sick!

“Do you mind if I wait here for a moment while you do? There’s a draft over where I’m sleeping and the company is far more pleasant here.”

Un-freaking-believable. Next thing she’ll be asking for is a cashmere blanket and a cup of tea
.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum would probably fall all over themselves to get it for her too. I knew she’d got to Ugly Face too. There was no way a prick like him would put his neck on the line without a bit of thinking involved from his southern nether regions.

Sure, she is hot, and that shirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but they are at least ten years older than her and butt ugly. Keep dreaming, boys. If she’s desperate enough to hook up with someone they will be the last on her list.

At the thought of her hooking up, I frown. Why should I care who she is with?  

I catch her eye when Jacobson and Clockman argue over who is making the call. She shoots a haughty “you should have just asked me for help,” look.

The truth of it is that I’m not good at asking for help. Nor am I thrilled that she’s rubbing her hand along Jacobson’s arm. Both place me in a very uncomfortable place of emotion that I would rather not think about.

“What do you think, Clockman?” Jacobson asks, interrupting my self-examination. “I wouldn’t mind the company for a bit, myself.”

“Yeah. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything.”

I glance up in time to see him give Ember a once over and feel a second irrational urge to smash his face in, for being so obvious about it, of course. She might not be my favorite person in the world but I sure as hell don’t want her being treated like a piece of meat either. I wasn’t raised to accept shit like that.  

Without glancing down at me, Ember loops her arm through Lt. Jacobson’s and saunters off. When Ugly Face’s boot shifts again I buck against him, trying to throw him off. “Now what are we going to do with you, son?”

I find out a couple of minutes later when I am hurled back onto my cot with my hands zip tied in front of me. My responding glare feels pretty fangless as Ugly Face walks away to leave me to nurse a few new wounds. I’ve had plenty of split lips in my time, and I know a good shiner when I see one, but the new ringing in my ears can’t be good. Ugly Face sure enjoyed roughing me up once my hands were tied.

The idiot never even stopped to wonder why I let him.

“I really gotta stop letting people hit me in the head.” I lay back onto the mattress and keep a firm grip on a set of keys nestled in my palm. I hum to myself for several minutes so that I don’t have to hear Ember’s laughter while I work on a plan of escape.

Technically we have one in place but it’s lame and feels more like a hodgepodge of ideas that I went along with just to get the other to shut up. All of their opinions and input gave me a headache. I get that they need to feel a sense of control about what’s happening to them but at the end of the day, it’s my way or the highway. I just have to make sure that my way doesn’t inadvertently get us all killed.

I don’t know how much time has passed when I finally hear footsteps approaching but when I look up at Ember I fully expect to see another haughty “I told you so,” grin on her face. Instead, she shoots me a warning glance and returns to her cot without a single word.

What the hell is that all about?

Sammy’s snores come and go throughout the long night. Sometimes his nasal foghorn grows so loud I am sure that he could rock the building on its foundations. At other times, he tapers off and I wonder if it’s stopped breathing. That’s usually when the whimpering begins.

Sammy has suffered from nightmares for as long as he’s been here. Usually, they don’t get to me. We all have the dreams. I guess it’s only natural when you have a walking freak show marching past every day, but sometimes, and those are the really bad times, someone sees a person they know and the nightmares are shared around.

As I lie there listening to his nightmares, I know what he must be seeing: emotionless eyes, dangling flesh and arms always reaching for him. He told me once that he always dreams about his parents, about the way they went out.  I guess the only saving grace was that they went peacefully. I have a feeling before this is all over that we won’t all be that lucky.

Many of the kids in this room have lost at least one, if not both parents along with siblings, cousins, grandparents and the whole lot. I don’t have anyone but my mom to care about and that means I can remain mostly detached. That means I can make the hard decisions without having to care.

I glance over at Sammy as he shakes in his bed with his knees curled up into his chest and I think about Short Stack. Did their school get evacuated? There was room for the lower grade kids to join us but no one has said a word about them. I hope that’s not being done on purpose. I would feel sick to my stomach if anything happened to that kid.

Right around the time that I am beginning to sag with sleep I hear a knocking on the blast door. It is faint enough not to wake those in a deep sleep but I am instantly awake. Judging by a few other heads that pop up around me, I’m not the only one struggling to sleep.