Chloe Zombie Apocalypse series (Book 1): Chloe (14 page)

“
Y
ou shit
. You little fucking shit.”

Aiden powered towards Chloë. She held her ground. Held her breath. She grew slightly more tense as Aiden approached. Kept her hands above her head. And the closer he got, the more Chloë saw the anger building in his eyes, and started to wonder whether she’d fucked up her plan after all.

But she held her hands up.

She had to hope they’d bite the bait.

She had to pray one of the others would step in and help her.

Her knife rested in the back of her trousers just in case things didn’t quite go according to plan.

“I’m gonna rip that bolt wound open,” Aiden said. Sweat fell from his damp hair. “Should’ve killed you when I had the chance. Should’ve killed you when—”

“Or, you could keep me alive, and we can help each other.”

Aiden stopped. Stopped right in front of Chloë. There was silence in the dark of night. Nothing but a breeze. A few stray groans from monsters far away.

Aiden narrowed his forehead. “You think I’m gonna help you?”

Chloë reached for her knife.

Aiden’s fist collided with the right side of her face before she had a chance to grab it.

She fell to the ground. Felt Aiden’s weight fall on top of her. He grabbed her hair. Thumped her again. The familiar metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth.

“Here’s how it’s gonna be,” Aiden said, tightening his grip around Chloë’s hair. “I’m gonna ask very nicely where you’ve put our stuff. You’re gonna tell us.”

He moved his hand down Chloë’s chest. Pressed on the spot where he’d shot a bolt into her just a day ago.

“Or I’m gonna make you suffer. I’m gonna make you die painfully. Knew we shouldn’t’ve trusted you. Knew you were one of them all along.”

He lifted his fist.

Went to punch Chloë again.

“I’m not one of them,” Chloë shouted.

“Where’s our stuff?”

“I’m on my own. Just like I told you. And I didn’t want to come back here. I really didn’t. Believe me. But—”

“Our stuff,” Aiden said.

He pushed his thumb against the wound.

Chloë’s chest burned.

“I … I came back here because I need help. I need help finding—finding someone I care about. Saving them. From the—from the bad ones. From CoY.”

Aiden pushed harder on Chloë’s chest.

Chloë couldn’t help but cry out.

“My dad!”

Aiden kept on pressing.

Tears rolled down Chloë’s blood-soaked cheeks. Colours filled her vision. “He … They’ve got him. CoY. They’ve got him. I saw him with them. I saw him with them and I need to get to him. I haven’t—haven’t seen him for months. Since the start.”

“Bullshit,” Aiden said. “It’s a trap. They’ve sent kids like you before. I know what your methods are—”

“I’m not one of them!” Chloë cried. She looked Aiden right in the eye. Clenched her jaw as his thumb slipped inside the wound. “I know I can’t make you believe me but please. I’m not one of them. I—I swear to God I’m not one of them.”

Aiden didn’t relieve the pressure. Chloë knew that if he kept on pressing, she’d pass out. Soon. Very soon.

Her plan would fail.

Her hope would be over.

“Maybe she’s telling the truth.”

Alice’s voice cut through Chloë’s consciousness. It gave her a jolt of hope; a jolt she so desperately needed.

She felt the pressure on her chest ease slightly. Looked up, saw Aiden turn to Alice, who was approaching to his right.

“Course she’s not telling the fucking truth,” Aiden said. “She took our stuff.”

“’Cause—’cause I was worried. About you saying no. I needed … I needed something to stop you just killing me right away.”

Aiden smiled a little. “Well, good job there, kid. Killing you right away woulda been merciful compared to what I’ve got planned for you—”

“What do you want our help with?” Alice asked.

Despite the pain crippling Chloë’s body, she felt a warmth inside when Alice spoke those words. When she gave her a platform. A platform to air her wishes.

Aiden’s hands grew shaky. “The fuck you asking her that for?”

“Chloë,” Alice said, looking right into her eyes. “What do you want our help with?”

Chloë felt her thoughts drifting. Felt her muscles weakening. Felt consciousness slipping away.

“I … I need to get into their camp. The CoY camp. I think I know a way in. I … I need to save my dad. Please.”

She felt Aiden’s thumb slip into her wound again.

Heard talking. Muffled talking.

Slipping away.

Floating away.

Falling…

And then Aiden’s grip loosened.

He stepped away from her. No—he was being dragged away from her. Dragged away by Alice. Alice and Trev.

Chloë looked up. Looked up at Alice and Trev as they stood beside Aiden. Looked down at the blood seeping out of her chest wound.

Then she rolled over and puked into the dirt.

After a few minutes of Chloë throwing up, Alice walked over to her. Helped her to her feet. She took her knife away just for good measure. Escorted her to the middle of the camp. Trev sat beside Aiden in the distance, lambasting him about something.

Blood dripped from Aiden’s thumbs.

His stare never once left Chloë.

Alice walked Chloë towards the rest of the group. She kept tight hold of her left arm.

“Chloë, I don’t like your methods, but something inside me makes me believe you’re telling the truth.”

Aiden snorted. “She’s not fucking telling the—”

“Aiden’s going to stitch you up again,” Alice said. “Properly. And then you’re going to tell us where our weapons are. Where our supplies are. Then, we’ll talk about helping you with your problem. Only then.”

Chloë thought about accepting. Thought about lapping up their offer, there and then.

Instead, she took a deep breath.

Shook her head.

Trev’s eyes widened.

“No?” Aiden said.

“That’s not how it works,” Chloë said.

Trev shook his head. Smirked. “Go on then, child. Tell us how it works.”

“You agree to help me,” Chloë said. “Then I’ll tell you where your stuff is.”

She heard the tutting from the group. Saw the bewilderment in their faces. Truth was, she’d been living long enough in this world to know how important that thing called leverage was. And right now, she had massive leverage over this group. Leverage she had to milk for all it was worth.

“Say we do help you out,” Aiden said. “And I’m not for one second saying that’s gonna happen. But how we supposed to just wander into those fuckers’ camp? They’ve got people. Lots of ’em. And you’ve seen what they do to outsiders.”

Chloë looked at Alice. Then at Trev, then at Aiden. “It’s not going to be easy. But I think I know a way. A way not just inside there, but a way of taking the place. For ourselves. But it’ll only work if there’s a few of us.”

“Awful vague for someone desperate for our trust,” Trev said.

“I’ll tell you more when you tell me if you’ll help.”

Aiden smiled. Shook his head. He stood up. Towered over Chloë. “You’ve got balls. I’ll give you that. But they’re gonna get you killed some day. Probably some day soon.”

“She’s still here,” Alice said. “That counts for something.”

Aiden’s eyes didn’t shift from Chloë. “I suppose it does,” he said.

He perched opposite Chloë. Dragged her close. Ripped open her cloak. For a moment, Chloë expected him to stab her. To finish her off.

Instead, he studied the bolt wound.

“I don’t like being taken for a mug. But what you said. About taking that camp. It’s got me interested. We can’t just live out here forever. Not after scares like tonight. Not with the zombie numbers picking up.”

“Not with our weak fences,” Trev added.

“Is that a yes?” Chloë asked.

Aiden looked at her chest. Then into her eyes. He studied her. Studied her in silence for a few seconds. A cool breeze swept through the night. “It’s a ‘we’ll give it our best shot.’ But believe me when I tell you that I’ll tear you to pieces if you try double-crossing us. I promise you that.”

Adrenaline filled Chloë’s body. She couldn’t contain her smile. Couldn’t stop a little laugh from breaking out.

“Now where’s our stuff?” Aiden asked.

Chloë turned. Pointed towards the supply tent.

Alice, Aiden and Trev all looked. Aiden turned back, frowning. “No. Don’t fuck with us now. We’ve said we’ll think about helping. Don’t fuck with—”

“Your supplies are behind the supply tent,” Chloë said. “Couldn’t hide all that stuff much further away when you were on watch. Even if you were snoring.”

Chloë saw redness fill Aiden’s cheeks.

She swore she heard a snigger from Alice and Trev.

J
onas stood
outside the thick metal door and listened to the sounds of his prisoners.

They were a noisy bunch, that was for sure. Coughing. Spluttering. Mumbling and begging for help. He could sympathise. He’d been a prisoner himself at several stages in his life. Once in his early twenties for nicking CDs from a shop and selling them. Again a few years later for aggravated assault.

But he’d changed since then. He’d reformed.

He was a whole new man now.

A leader.

He looked at the thick metal door. Felt the chilliness sweeping through the cell-block corridor. He wasn’t concerning himself with the general prison population. Not tonight.

Tonight, he had something bigger to deal with.

Something in the cell block beyond gen pop.

Something tasty to discuss.

He stuck the key in the metal cell door. Twisted the handle. As he opened the door, he got a whiff of piss. A taste of stale vomit. Understandable, of course. His special prisoner didn’t even get a bucket to shit in.

There was no room for preferential treatment in the Church of Youth.

Only reverse preference.

Jonas pulled the door right open.

He saw Pete Baines at the back of the darkened cell. Saw him leaning against the wall. Naked. Chain around his ankles. Around his feet. If he shone a torch on him, he’d see the sores all over him. The burn marks the guards gave him every single night.

He’d see months and months of torture spread across this man’s body.

A reminder of what happened when you broke the rules.

A reminder of what happened to the former establishment.

But tonight, he didn’t need a torch.

He walked into Pete’s cell. Sat down opposite him. He reeked of piss, shit, vomit, sweat. His hair was long, almost as long as Jonas’, but thinning in places. A reminder of what he was. Of what he could have been.

“Want some water?” Jonas asked.

Pete didn’t answer. But Jonas pressed a bottle to his lips anyway. And after some initial resistance, Pete swallowed it. Once he started swallowing, he couldn’t stop. It trickled down his chin. His breathing intensified.

And just as he started to get into it, Jonas pulled the bottle away.

“Right, right. I said
some
water. Not all of it.”

He twisted the cap back on the bottle. Looked at the dark silhouette in front of him.

“How’re you feeling, Pete?”

Pete coughed. Coughed up some of that water he’d gulped down. “I … I’ve been better.”

“Peterson tells me you executed a defector earlier. Impressive. We’ll give you a night off the burns tonight for that. Keep it up and we might just let you back into our ranks some day.”

There was no sincerity to Jonas’ words. He knew damned well he wasn’t going to let Pete back. He was going to execute him. Painfully.

But only when he’d tortured him as painfully as he could for as long as he could.

And where that was concerned, he had something new.

The ultimate torture device.

“Still think it’s strange,” Jonas said. “Me sitting here. You sitting opposite. But instead of you doing all the talking, instead of me being in chains … almost cyclical, don’t you think?”

“What do you want, Jonas?”

Jonas didn’t like the way Pete addressed him by his first name. He was the Holy One to his followers.

But he let it slide. Just because of the position of power he was in.

Because of the exciting news he was still yet to share with Pete.

“You know exactly what I want,” Jonas said. “An apology. For what you did to my family. What you did to me.”

“You’d do the same in my position.” Pete laughed a little. “Hell, you’ve done much worse.”

“I haven’t killed anyone in your family,” Jonas said. “I haven’t locked up your own flesh and blood. Had my personal goons beat them. Tell me, did you intend for my brother to die? Or was that just another one of your leadership accidents, too?”

Pete didn’t respond. Jonas was hardly surprised.

Jonas sighed. Rubbed his hands together. “Truth is, you’re right. I would do the same if I was in your position. But unfortunately for me, I don’t have a member of your family right here.”

“Isn’t that a relief?” Pete said.

Jonas smiled. He could barely contain his excitement. “It is. It is.”

He stood up. Walked towards the cell door. He wanted to stretch this moment out for as long as possible. He wanted to leave Pete confused. He wanted him to ponder what he’d just said.

When he reached the metal cell door, he stopped. “Though there is something you’d be interested in hearing. Some news from afar.”

He turned and looked back at Pete’s static silhouette.

Took a deep breath as butterflies filled his stomach. As the moment arrived. Finally.

“One of your daughters. Chloë. I believe she’s causing all kinds of havoc in the woods outside.”

In a split second, Pete went from stationary to active. He threw himself towards Jonas. The chains around his arms and legs rattled against the tiled wall. “My daughter. Don’t you dare talk about my daughter. Don’t you dare—”

“Don’t worry,” Jonas said. He dragged his fingers across his lips like he was closing a zip. “Nothing more to say about her. Other than she’s a tough little cookie. Killed a few of our guards just outside the walls. Stripped the skin off one’s face and left him for dead. No sign of her lately but … I’d imagine she’ll be back.”

Pete’s breathing intensified.

Jonas saw the pain in his eyes.

He walked back into the cell. Stood over Pete. Grabbed his cheeks.

“And when she does get back here, I’m going to give you a knock. I’m going to lead you out into the middle of the grounds. When you’re there, you’ll find your daughter tied up. She’ll be bleeding from every orifice after every man in the stronghold rapes her.”

Pete rattled at his chains.

Jonas took a step back.

Smile growing.

“Well, not every man. I’ll make sure we’ve saved a few. So that when you come out, you’ll be able to watch us brutalise your little princess.”

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” Pete screamed. He was manic. Throwing his body around. Tears pouring down his cheeks. “Don’t you fucking touch her!”

Jonas took a step back. “When we’ve finished raping her, we’ll cut her to pieces from the least fatal limb to the most. That way, you’ll get to watch your daughter scream. You’ll get to listen to her beg for her life. And you won’t be able to do a thing about it.”

“Please!” Pete cried. “Please!”

Jonas chuckled. “Goodnight, Pete. Listen out for a knock. When you get one, you know exactly what it’s about.”

He turned. Walked out of the metal door. Slammed it shut.

He leaned back against it. Closed his eyes. Listened to Pete thrashing and screaming like a caged animal.

He listened to the cries. Listened to the shouts. Listened to Pete’s agony.

He smiled.