Life Among The Dead (Book 3): A Bittersweet Victory (10 page)

Marko finally exits his truck, holding a hand
up to tell his companions to stay put. He heads to the door with
his AK-47 and stops halfway up the walk. The lights are on, the
patrolmen are still inside, but he can tell they are dead on their
feet. They lazily travel over the industrial carpeting in aimless
circles.

Marko pulls one of the double doors open and
locks the hinge to keep it that way. There are four walking
corpses, and likely more throughout the station. He knows this
place will have guns and ammunition, but not for his assault rifle.
That weapon will have to be used sparingly until he can get to a
gun store. The dead he lures out are certainly worth spending the
rounds on, but he has a better plan. Something he could only dream
of before.

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!”

As the dead cops exit the station, Marko
waves for his buddies to join him. “Save your ammo for now,” he
tells Biff when the man aims his shotgun at one of the
deputies.

The zombies spread out to claim the closest
meal. Marko takes advantage of the confusion to prepare himself,
then he slams the butt of his gun into the first dead cop that
closes in on him. Stunned, the zombie falters on his feet. Before
he can find his balance, Marko beats him savagely.

Biff and Jessie aren’t so enthusiastic about
the close quarters, but they do as they are told and resist firing
their weapons. The two men back away from the three zombies that
pursue them.

Looking up from the concave mess he’s made of
his corpse, Marko finds his companions are in over their heads.
“Either hit ‘em or grab a bow,” he says. “Save me one!”

Jessie rushes to the red truck, never taking
his eyes off the dead. In the bed, under cases of beer and sacks of
various snacks, he locates his compound bow. Using the reusable
projectiles, he takes down the first two ghouls that near him and
Biff, leaving one per Marko’s instruction.

“He’s all yours, Marko.” Jessie keeps an
arrow ready to fire as he retreats in a skipping shuffle to
maintain distance between the zombie and himself.

“Grab him for me,” Marko commands.

“What?” Jessie asks with panic.

“Grab the pig. There’s something I wanna
do.”

Jessie creeps from his position of safety to
sneak up on the ghoul getting dreadfully close to Biff. He shoves
the zombie cop down on his face then drops all of his weight onto
the thing’s back. Though he weighs a considerable amount, the
deceased thrashes and fights to get free.

“He’s got him,” Biff tells Marko.

“Good! Bring him over here.”

Biff grabs the cadaver’s ankles and waits for
Jessie to hop clear of the gnashing teeth.

“Get him over here!” Marko’s points to a spot
on the sidewalk.

Jessie and Biff struggle with the oddly
strong and wiry corpse. Each takes a leg in their powerful hands,
yet the movement of their frantic prisoner is almost too much for
them. The creature writhes back and forth in his desperate desire
to turn and get at those that drag it along the asphalt.

At the sidewalk, Jessie and Biff are given
another order that they carry out. The cop has to be turned around
for them to bravely force his face to the curb; it’s a difficult
task to pull off with the thing fighting the entire time, but they
manage to do as Marko pleases and get it to bite the concrete.

The cop’s mouth is wide open at a ninety
degree angle on the curb. Jessie and Biff have him by the shoulders
to keep him in place, since the rock hard surface isn’t what the
thing wishes to be biting. Marko stands behind the officer and
savors the moment before stomping on the back of his head as hard
as he can.

A mess of blood and teeth are left behind
where the corpse’s mouth was. Jessie and Biff release their captive
and shiver at the sight of the violent act.

Bellows of joy erupt from Marko, who is too
busy celebrating to realize his lackeys have abandoned their post.
The zombie is loose and the cousins have scrambled away from the
corpse that rises to his feet.

Exhilarated, Marko has his back to the
vicious scene, with his hands held high over his head like a
triumphant boxer. When he looks again, he stands face to face with
what he’s done. The force of the savage kick caused the zombie’s
mouth to open beyond its limitations, and the cheeks are torn open
from ear to ear in a garish grin while the jawbone hangs loose from
his skull. What teeth remain are cracked and angled like a
jack-o-lantern. Relatively harmless now, the cop still advances on
Marko.

Biff finishes the zombie with an arrow. He
emerges from behind the red truck with Jessie, each having trouble
looking at the stomach wrenching gore.

“Find me another one!” Marko orders.

###

Room by room, the trio clears the station,
after Marko has his sinister fun with a few more unfortunate
zombies. His companions witnessed as he lived out many dark and
twisted fantasies, even worse than the first shocking display.

They celebrate their triumph with booze and a
banquet of junk food. Marko schemes for their future while staring
at a large map of the highway system. He wants to accrue as much as
possible: all the guns and ammo he can hoard, all the food they
could want, electronics and gadgets. He wants everything. He
wonders if he can find more people willing to join his kingdom,
creating an army for him to command.
And
some
girls
would
be
nice
, he adds to his
infinite wish list.

It’s well past midnight by the time he and
his men are ready to turn in. Their trucks have been emptied of
supplies and superfluous weapons they won’t be bringing with them
tomorrow when they return to Worchester. Offices have become
storage areas for their camping gear and food, and the chief’s
office is now Marko’s personal throne room.

Hoping to catch a few winks on fold-out cots,
the men rest up for tomorrow. While Biff and Jessie snore away,
Marko lies awake, too excited to sleep.

In Room 202 of the Worchester Motel, Vida
awakens from nightmares. She remains still, afraid to move lest she
shake loose the ghouls that have plagued her mind all night. A
moment of temporary amnesia makes her play back the past to
remember where she is. Brad Larsen picked her up on the Washington
Bridge, then they drove north and took a break from the road after
finding shelter.

Once the lights were put out, Vida actually
found it difficult to drift off to sleep. It had come naturally on
the road, but though drained from the day’s events, she had too
much time to think. She felt guilty for surviving.
Brandon
should
be
here
, she ruminated in the dark.

Her recent loss made Brad’s advances rather
offensive, despite the fact he couldn’t have known about her fallen
band mates. Seeking carnal comfort in this world of death and gore,
fear and uncertainty, is the last thing on her mind.

Time
heals
all
wounds
, she thought before succumbing to slumber, but she
doubts it can lick this one. She hadn’t been with Brandon long, but
she loved him. If she ever does decide to open her heart to
another, it’s going to be a long time coming.

The night terrors abated, she opens her eyes
to find sunlight entering the room through slits in the thick
drapery. She wonders what time it is and if they’ll be leaving
soon. Above this, she wonders why she can’t move.

“What the fuck?” Vida reacts to the bonds
around her wrists and ankles. She struggles against the lashings
but can’t break free. A yellowed lamp cord has been used to secure
her hands, and her feet are bound by her own shoelaces.

Brad sits on the bed. “Good! You’re
awake.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Her Latin
temper flares as she casts daggers at her savior turned captor.

He ignores her question. “I laid awake all
night thinking about the future…”

His casual tone enrages her even more, and
she must contain the volcano bubbling inside of her to look around
for anything that may be of help. Brad has drained the liquor
bottles while she slept.

“I’m about to go back to base and return to a
life of absolute slavery. That’s what it’s like. Being told where
to be, what to eat, and when to sleep. When I bring you there,
they’ll call me a hero. I’m no hero…”

No
shit
, Vida thinks, but keeps
the thought to herself lest she worsen her situation.

“The guys on the bridge weren’t overrun. I
left them because I was scared. I didn’t want to die…”

His eyes hold genuine sorrow for his actions,
but that doesn’t make up for imprisoning her. All she can do is
listen and hope for a miracle.

“I remember seeing you at the blockade and
thinking ‘even in such an ugly world, beauty exists’. You were so
captivating. The guys stopped paying attention to what we were
supposed to be doing…”

So
,
it’s
my
fault
? she thinks sarcastically.

“Don’t go blaming yourself.”

I
won’t
.

“They were fresh out of boot and should have
known better. They weren’t synchronizing their fire. They were
shooting at the same targets and not accounting for reloading,” he
tells her. “They both ran dry at the same time! One should have
been covering the other so he could… I picked you up. I couldn’t
bear to let such a vision die like that. I figured we’d go to Eagle
Rock. I’d tell them we lost our foothold on the bridge, and I’d be
commended for bringing in a survivor.

“Once we’re there, you’ll be given a safe
place to stay and meals. I’ll just be sent right back out in harm’s
way, put on endless watch bills. All I asked was for one night with
you before returning to all that. That’s how it’s supposed to be.
You save a girl, she shows you some kindness, right? Like a
gratuity for a job well done.”

“My boyfriend, Brandon, sacrificed himself so
I could live. He led dozens of those things away so I could get
someplace safe. I promised him I would get to safety,” Vida tries
to reason with him.

“And, you will,” Brad says while removing his
uniform blouse. “After.”

Every muscle in her body tenses when he lifts
her from the recliner. She looks around for any sort of weapon or
way out and finds nothing. Her mind is racing but getting nowhere
fast. Vida can’t believe this is happening. Almost to the bed, she
does the only thing she can think of--she thrashes in his arms.
It’s no use. He’s too strong.

He dumps her on the bed and she lands with
her face buried in one of the pillows. Clothes rustles as he sheds
his remaining garments, and his belt jingles as he removes it. His
breathing is heavy with anticipation and she’s powerless to fight
back.

Brad was angry when Vida rejected him last
night, although she was polite about it. He stayed up drinking and
remembering boot camp. The instructors had the recruits sleep with
their rifles out in the field, as if the weapons were their
girlfriends. Now he looks at Vida on the bed. Her slender waist and
raised backside give her an almost feline posture. Sleek and sexy.
Sitting next to his new girlfriend, sliding a hand up her shirt, he
favors warm flesh over the cold steel of his rifle.

Still drunk and running on very little sleep,
he had bound her limbs together, limbs that he must now part. Plus
she still has her clothes on. Before he begins, he must untie the
shoelaces that bind her ankles tightly. So he sits on her left leg
to undo the knots he had so stealthily made in the dark. Once he
has her legs free, he must extend his body to the corner so he can
tie her right leg to the bedpost. While he does this, his knee
keeps her other leg pinned painfully to the mattress.

Brad doesn’t care what position he takes her
in. He just wants to take her. With the one leg lashed to the bed,
he moves to the next. As far as her clothing, he figures he can
just cut it away with his knife.

He eases off of her unsecured leg, his
excitement building. The back of his neck tingles with tension he
can’t wait to release, again and again. The possibilities of their
situation are boundless, and he doubts he’ll ever return to base
now that he has Vida as his new toy.

Vida feels the weight lift off of her leg.
She has but a moment to snatch it back. With speed and flexibility
that surprises them both, she reclaims her limb and rears it back.
Lunging for the headboard, she grabs on to it for support and kicks
out at the naked soldier with all the adrenaline fueled might she
can muster.

Brad lands hard on the floor after catching
his back on the recliner. Vida slides off the bed as fast as she
can before he can regain his control. Not having enough time to
work the knots, she simply slips out of her shoe and runs blindly
from the dim room.

Sunlight sears her eyes, and she’s instantly
blinded in her desperate escape from the rapist. She doesn’t let
that stop her, however. Vida guides herself along the stair railing
by memory and is on the ground floor by the time her vision fully
recovers.

She runs full speed, despite her lopsided,
one-shoe gait. She heads around the building to where the jeep is
parked. Thankfully she needn’t be concerned with keys since she saw
Brad start it with just a push of a button.

The quick pace makes it hard to stop, but
Vida manages to do so when she hears the roar of a large engine on
the street. She almost made it to the corner that would take her to
the back of the motel, but instead she must drop down below tall
hedges. Bare feet plod after her, making her torn between which is
the greater threat: her would-be captor or the large black truck
she sees through the shrubs.