Adaptive Instinct (Survival Instinct) (29 page)

There were a few other groups of survivors dotted about, but they all had their own plans, and none
was as populous as the prison.  A few of the smaller groups were already headed to the airport.  Some of them were taking the long route over land to the ship, and a few decided not to move; they liked it where they were.

Nicky liked hearing about the boat.  It wasn’t one of the biggest cruise ships, but it was still quite large.  She imagined them all living very happily on that boat, especially because everyone could have their own rooms, with doors.  Nicky missed having a proper door to her room instead of just a sheet hanging from the bars.  They couldn’t even lock the cells without running the risk of not being able to open them again.  It was all too easy for someone
just to barge in, uninvited and unwanted.

With everybody updated, and a tentative deadline set for next week, the meeting was adjourned.  It was also agreed that there was to be at least a quick meeting every day, sometimes two, from now on.  Everybody needed to be kept up to speed, especially as they got nearer and nearer to ‘go’ time.

Nicky walked out with Edward.

“It’s almost time.”  Edward’s smile lit up his face.

“I can’t wait to get out of this place,” Nicky agreed.

As Edward walked her toward the stairs, which would lead her back to her floor, he reached out and took Nicky’s hand.  Nicky didn’t pull hers away.  In fact, she wrapped her own fingers around his.  She couldn’t keep the smile off her face.  At the bottom of the steps, they mutually let go of each other.

“Want to meet for dinner?  I heard they’re serving mac and cheese today,” Edward asked.

“Sure.  I’ll see you then.”  Nicky climbed up the stairs.  She was happy.  A part of her kept telling herself that she was an idiot, that this was a stupid idea, but the thought of not seeing Edward again was
gut wrenching.  She wasn’t at the point where she would break down if he was suddenly eaten by a zombie, but what if it got to that point?  That was the fear, that she would care too much, and she would be killed because of it.  Others had expressed this thought as well, both young and old.  A group of teenaged girls were on Nicky’s floor that seemed to think of her as a big sister.  They came to her all the time with their boy troubles.  It was frustrating, but also entertaining, and sometimes kind of sweet.  Nicky had to be a hard ass at times, but she liked it when she could help with silly, almost pointless problems.

As she passed a hallway that led to a bathroom, Nicky heard a muffled cry.  Instinctively she placed her hands on the rifle she carried and headed toward the sound.  There was another soft cry, this one forming a word.  That word was “no.”  Nicky reached the door and pushed it open forcefully, raising her rifle.  Inside was Orson King, the prisoner she didn’t like.  He had a woman pressed up against the wall, a small knife to her throat.

“Drop it, Orson!” Nicky commanded, all her pleasant thoughts from earlier blown away in an instant.

Orson reacted fast.  He pulled the woman away from the wall and held her as a human shield in front of him.  They were now in a
standoff.  The woman’s eyes were terrified, spilling over with tears.  Orson just looked over her shoulder with a sick grin.  Nicky wasn’t a good enough shot to take him down.  This wasn’t like the movies where she could just shoot that smiling face without any harm coming to the woman.  She couldn’t shoot the woman either, especially because she knew her.  Her name was Isabelle and she had a four-year-old daughter.  She had lost her husband during the outbreak, and they had barely survived that day until a group of mercenaries stumbled upon them.  Nicky had been part of that group of mercenaries.

“Drop the gun,” a smooth voice spoke behind Nicky.

Nicky looked over her shoulder.  A man in a nice suit and large sunglasses was holding Jasmine, Isabelle’s daughter.  His knife was even more wicked than Orson’s, and held so close to the child’s neck, she was afraid to breathe.

“Drop it, lady,” Orson grinned some more.  He clearly got pleasure out of turning her own words against her.

Nicky didn’t have a choice.  She released the strap from her shoulder and placed the gun on the floor, rising back up with her hands in the air.

Orson threw Isabelle into the corner, and moved
as quickly as a snake to snatch up the gun.  He let the barrel drift between Nicky and Isabelle.

“Let go of the girl,” Nicky spoke over her shoulder.

“Check her for other weapons first,” the man behind her said to the one with her gun.

Orson checked her over, taking the knife, the pistol, and the radio from her belt, as well as the smaller knife in her boot.  He took the time to grope her chest and ass while he was at it. Nicky refused to react to this.  Guys like him got off on the reaction.

“She’s clean now,” Orson told the other man.

“Go to your mother.”  The unknown man stroked the girl’s face and released her.  She ran crying to Isabelle and the two tightly embraced.  Now that Jasmine was out of the way, Nicky could clearly see the other man.  He was another prisoner, Hank Paige.  Completely blind, but with the hearing of a bat, the cunning of a fox, and a cruelty that only a human could possess.  Nicky knew that keeping some of the prisoners here was a bad idea; she just hoped she would get the chance to say I told you so.

“She a mercenary?” Hank asked Orson.  “She sounds like one.”

“She is,” Orson confirmed.

“Excellent.”  Hank turned his face in Nicky’s direction.  “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Nicole.”

“Well, Nicole, how would you like to help us out of here?”

“Why?”

“We’ve decided we don’t like this prison anymore,” Orson explained.  “Too many of you guys walking around and watching us all the time.  We want to go out there, where everything is free.”

“All right, fine.”  Nicky had no problem with them leaving.  “Just go up to the doors and tell them I said you could go.”

“No, no, no.”  Hank shook his head.  “We want one of those trucks.  They sound like they’re safe, and considering we’re going out to where the zombies are, we want to be safe.”

“No.”  They needed all the trucks to transport everyone.

“You don’t have a say in the matter.”  Orson pointed the gun at Isabelle and Jasmine.  “Unless you want them splattered all over this bathroom.”

Nicky looked into Isabelle’s eyes.  How could she sentence this loving mother to death like that?  The answer was simple: she couldn’t.  Even though the truck was desperately needed to get all these people out, she couldn’t let them gun down Isabelle and Jasmine.

“All right.  You can have a truck.”

“Excellent.  You’re going to help us get out through the gates, of course?”  Hank walked over to the mother and child.

“Of course,” Nicky answered through gritted teeth.

“All right, up on your feet, you two.”  Hank got them to stand.  “You don’t have to leave the prison with us if you don’t want to, but you are going to help us get Ms. Nicole into the truck.”

They left the bathroom with Isabelle carrying Jasmine in the lead, Hank with his knife behind them, Nicky behind him, and Orson behind her.  She was warned that if she tipped off anybody, she would be shot in the spine, and the child would get a knife in her eyes.  Nicky had every intention of obeying.

Even though Nicky prayed someone would notice something wrong, nobody did.  Too many people were worried about the threat outside to be concerned with the threats inside.  The people outside would have to notice though; those who were out there walking dogs, and tossing a Frisbee around.  A group like theirs wouldn’t go by unnoticed.  Unfortunately, Nicky had been so busy that day, she had forgotten all about the storm system moving in.  There was a downpour outside, which had already driven everyone else in.  Through the rain, they got to the large trucks without being noticed.

“How do you open the back?” Orson asked.

Nicky showed him how.  Orson began shoving the soaking Isabelle and Jasmine inside.

“Hey!  You said they could go!”  Nicky objected.

“And they will.  Once we’re outside the gates, the three of you will be free to get back inside anyway you can.  We still need some incentive for you to get us out of here.”  Hank climbed up into the truck after the girls and closed the door behind him.

“Get in the driver’s seat,” Orson ordered, using the tip of his gun for punctuation.

Nicky scowled at him but got in. 
Rainwater ran down her face from her hair as she started up the engine.  She hoped the rain made the zombies dumber as opposed to smarter.  She also hoped that Orson would at least give her radio back so she could call for help once outside.  As Orson sat behind her, the gun undoubtedly trained on the back of her seat, she began rolling toward the gates.

“I don’t know what to say to the guards,” Nicky spoke tersely.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”  When Nicky adjusted the side mirror to see Orson’s face, she saw the sick grin on it.

They were stopped at the gates, and a guard asked where they were going.  Nicky came up with something about a tree threatening to fall on the wall in the storm.  She said that they had been instructed to make sure it went down the other way.  It was such a bullshit story, the guard had to know something was up; there weren’t any trees close enough to the walls to fall on them.  This had to be the dumbest guard in the history of guards though, because he waved them through.

Outside the gates, they ran over a bunch of startled zombies and went up the road until Nicky thought they were a safe enough distance away.  She pulled to the side, glad to see that the thunderous storm was in fact confusing the zombies.  It didn’t look like any of them had followed the truck.

“Out,” Orson ordered.

Nicky got back out, not even remotely dry from the first onslaught of water and now being pummelled by more.  She went to the back and opened the doors.  Hank’s fist immediately swung out, catching Nicky unaware.  Pain exploded in her cheek, but she brought up her fists, prepared to fight.  Orson’s rifle butt took out the back of her leg, however, knocking her to her knees.  Hank was hopping out of the truck as another swing hit the back of Nicky’s head.  Her body didn’t know which flair of pain to deal with first, but she didn’t care.  She rolled and then quickly staggered up onto her feet.  She wasn’t going to let these men kill her.  Orson stepped toward her, but he wasn’t ready for the lightning jab she threw.  His nose exploded with blood under her fist.  Hank was prepared for her to fight back though.  As she swung at Orson, he stepped neatly into her guard and threw a fist hard into her stomach.  She collapsed to her knees again, wheezing for breath and trying not to throw up.  She could hear Isabelle and Jasmine calling her name.  Why weren’t they out of the truck yet?  They should be running.

Hank and Orson each grabbed one of Nicky’s arms and hauled her up.  They threw her unceremoniously into the back of the truck, her head bouncing off the thread plate.  It was hard to focus.  She saw Jasmine and Isabelle looking at her, weeping in horror, their wrists handcuffed to the side of the truck.  Nicky turned and was able to make out Hank and Orson swinging the doors closed.

She wasn’t sure if the resulting blackness came from the light turning out, or from falling into unconsciousness.

12:

Riley Bishop – Day 15

Riley Bishop wrapped the quilt even tighter around her shoulders.  It wasn’t cold out, in fact, it was warmer than it had been last week, but she had an inner chill.  The tea in her hands helped, but not a lot.  It had been one week and one day since she decided to go in search of her sister.  Her ribs weren’t completely better, but they were good enough.  Josh was the only one who could fight her on health concerns, but after a week of butting heads, he folded like a house of cards.  Everyone had come to her at least once to try to talk her out of it.  Everyone but Abby that was.  Abby came to her only to describe Lauren, which Riley repeated in her head constantly.  The woman’s description became like a mantra for her; she didn’t want to risk passing her by without noticing.

When Misha had tried to talk her out of it, it was the most interesting and least expected.  He seemed fine with Riley leaving at first, but now he wasn’t.  And the reason he didn’t want her to go was a two-parter.  The first was that he didn’t trust Riley’s brother, Shawn.  She was the only person he had told so far, but he couldn’t keep it in.  He explained that he didn’t know what it was about him, but he just didn’t trust him to take care of them.  His second reason was far less selfish.  It was because of Shoes.  The poor old basset hound hadn’t been doing so well lately.  He was lethargic and refused to eat most of the time.  The dog was sick, and Misha wanted Riley to stay and take care of him.  Riley was trained to heal humans, but she had also learned a thing or two about dogs from her parents.  Josh knew next to nothing, and everyone else, even less.  Although Shawn had lived with their parents, he was never involved in handling the dogs, and had absolutely no idea what to do.  He could tell when a dog was sick, but that’s as far as it went.  Their mom had been the one to take care of the animals during those times.  She was the medicine woman, and it was from her that Riley and Cameron had gotten their own healers’ touches.