Tonight The World Dies (9 page)

“We’re punishing her.” Mary said, matter-of-factly.

“You can’t do that to her! We need her completely healthy for the experiment!” Bobby said.

“What’s going on now?” Brennan said, walking in.

“Your daughters where flogging her.” Bobby said, agitated.

“Girls?” Brennan said.

“She hit Andy, and called us nasty names!” The girls said.

“I need her healthy and without any wounds for the experiment.” Bobby said.

“Girls, let her down.” Brennan ordered.

“But Dad!” They moaned.

“Don’t argue with me. Let her down, and if she gets so much as another scratch from you two, she’s going into a different room, where you won’t be able to visit her.” He said.

The girls untied me grudgingly, tossing my clothes at my feet. “Get dressed.” Mary ordered. Elizabeth pointed the gun at me again. How could two once sweet girls become so sadistic?

I dressed slowly, blood dripping from the wounds they inflicted.

“I can get you out of this room.” Andy whispered in my ear.

“Into where? Your room? I don’t think so.” I said.

“How about with Billie then?” He asked. “The kids are nice to her.”

I considered it for a moment. “What would you want in return?”

“For you to be a little nicer to me. Don’t hit me again, ok?” He said.

“Fine. You get me out of this hell hole, and I won’t hit you again unless you really, really deserve it.” I said.

“That’s good enough for me.” He smiled and walked back out.

Andy was true to his word. I was removed from Mary’s and Elizabeth’s room, briefly examined in Bobby’s lab where my wounds were cleaned and disinfected, and tied up in the girl’s room on the opposite side from Billie.

“What happened to you?” Billie asked, wide eyed.

“Those freaks whipped me.” I said.

I was exhausted, bloody, and sore. Though I was glad to finally see one of my friends again, all I wanted to do was sleep.

“What the hell? We need to get out of here!” Billie said.

“I know.” I yawned. “But I need some rest first.”

After a few minutes, when I had dozed and snapped awake again, hearing the footfalls of someone wandering around upstairs, thinking I was going to be whipped again then settling back down, I asked Billie:

“Still think Todd is hot after all this?”

“What?” She asked. “No, I stopped being interested after he stabbed his zombie girl. Tortured emo types aren’t my thing.”

I laughed, a little delirious. I had missed her quirky comments; her unusual personality, especially when I had been surrounded by broken ones, myself included.

That night, when everyone else was playing a board game in the living room, Andy came up to visit me.

“How are you?” He asked.

“Ever have one of those days where you want to set someone’s face on fire and put it out with a fork?” I asked.

“No.” He said.

“Oh, well that’s the day I’m having.”

He laughed. “Here, I brought you and your friends some water.” He held up four water bottles.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked.

“Because I think you’re hot and because if I was in your situation, I would hope someone would help me out too.”

I did not understand him. I gave all the signs of disinterest, even going so far as to be cruel at times, and he came back for more. He was starting to grow on me, but a pain in the ass by any other name was still a MacGarret.

Life was a lot easier in the children’s room. They mostly played outside, which gave us the opportunity to talk. The girls would occasionally bring us little snacks in addition to our two small meals a day, in exchange for us playing games with them and telling them stories.

I didn’t have to say there long before Bobby was ready for me. Todd, Steven, and Sparky surrounded me, Steven and Sparky carried me downstairs while Todd pointed a rifle at my head, warning me not to move.

In the basement, Brennan held the zombie away from the door in the cell by a rope around its neck. Steven and Sparky dumped me inside before quickly retreating and locking the door behind them.

Chapter sixteen

Brennan let loose some slack on the rope and the zombie lurched forward, its blank eyes fixed on me. There was nowhere for me to run, and no weapons for me to use.

I dodged this way and that, desperately fleeing its grasp, but it was catching on.

“You can’t do this to me!” I screamed.

My captors ignored me.

The zombie shambled forward again, inching closer. With no other option, I reached up to snap its neck. My hands wound through its arms and onto its face. It struggled, leaning backward and grabbing onto my arms, digging into my soft flesh with boney, unfeeling fingers, jagged scratches trailing after it. It thrashed its head back and forth, trying to throw me off. It worked. For a moment my hands were vulnerable, and it bit me, hard.

I shrieked. Blood poured from the wound, spilling out onto the floor; it felt like my hand was in a vice. The zombie tumbled backward, eyes wide in shock. Brennan had yanked the rope back, pinning it against glass. The door opened slowly, I could feel a gun being pointed at me, and this time I wasn’t afraid of it, or angry at whoever was holding it, I was glad. I was a dead woman walking, and I wanted to be shot before I turned.

Firm hands pulled me out; I didn’t struggle. The hands guided me to the gleaming steel table, lifting me and laying me down on it.

“Kill me now.” I whispered.

“No, you aren’t going to die.” Bobby said.

Steven and Sparky strapped me down. Tight leather cuffs held me fast to the table, my wrists and ankles trapped against the cold metal.

“The bite looks deep. I’ll have to clean the blood off to know more.” Bobby said.

Something wet and cottony pressed against my hand. It stung.

I gasped, tears springing to my eyes.

“You still feel pain? That’s good.” Bobby smiled.

He wiped the stinging liquid across the wound, cleansing it.

“It will most certainly transmit the infection.” He said, nodding. “I’ll draw blood to start testing now.”

There was a tiny clink, like something small being picked up off a metal tray.

“Bobby, look at her. I don’t think she can take much more.” Brennan whispered from somewhere to my left.

“It is necessary.” Bobby said.

I felt a slight pinch on the crook of my arm, a needle being inserted for the blood draw.

“How long before she starts to turn?” Sparky asked.

“I don’t know.” Bobby said. “It varies from person to person, but I doubt it will take more than a day or two.”

A day or two. I could be stuck like this for two days, not knowing when I’d turn, when I would stop being myself. I knew then that it didn’t matter if the infected- the zombies- could think or feel. They were hungry for flesh; a threat to the uninfected.

“Please. Kill me before I turn.” I begged.

“No. No one is going to kill you. You are part of my experiment, and when I bring you back, you will thank me for not letting you die.” Bobby said.

He withdrew the needle and replaced it with a cotton ball held down by tape.

“Let’s see what we have here.” Bobby said, walking away from me. The group followed.

I was left alone on that table, unable to move. I sobbed quietly to myself, all my strength, all my sarcasm, now gone.

“According to what her blood shows, it won’t take more than a day to fully set in. She’ll be ready by dinner tomorrow.” Bobby said.

“Will you be alright down here by yourself with her?” Steven said.

“Of course. Now, if one of you would help me with this gentleman, I can dispose of him. He’s no longer of any use.” Bobby said, striding to the holding cell.

I could hear the rope scrape against the glass, the zombie thrashing and gnarling against it. The cell door opened; someone walked inside it. The zombie gave one last wheezing snarl, and fell silent.

“Take him outside please. Brennan, you know where we’ve been putting them.” Bobby said.

Someone dragged the zombie out of the cell, and up the stairs, two pairs of footsteps following it.

“I hope this works Bobby, for your sake.” Brennan said from near the stairs.

Bobby didn’t say anything. Instead, he came to stand next to me, a smile plastered to his face.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“Cold.” I said. “And my hand hurts.”

“The infection is working quickly.” He said, still smiling. “Pretty soon I’ll let you out of those bonds, and I’ll start running some tests on you.”

I shuddered. If it wasn’t bad enough that I was going to die, he was going to poke and prod me until I did.

Bobby walked out of view for a moment, humming merrily to himself, and came back with several small plastic things connected to wires. He placed them on my head and chest, still humming, and clamped something soft onto my index finger. He wheeled an old EKG machine over and connected the wires to it. It beeped loudly. My heart rate was slower than I expected at first, but quickly began to race as my breath picked up in tempo.

“Very good.” Bobby said to himself.

He watched the monitor for a while as it as the beeps kept time with my heart. The pain in my hand was growing stronger, as everything else started to fade.

“Let’s begin, shall we?” He said.

Chapter seventeen

He loosened the straps around me and forced me to sit up. I didn’t fight. I was in too much pain to fight anymore.

Bobby set to work, testing my reflexes and coordination. I did as I was told, reacting on autopilot. He scribbled something on a paper, saying it as he wrote.

“Patient is mentally lethargic, but coordination and reflexes remain intact and normal.”

He set the pen down and turned to me again.

“Ok, cognitive tests next!” He said.

He had me pick out shapes and colors, forcing me to do simple word problems and use one of those children’s toys with the different shaped blocks and holes.

“Do this as quickly as you can.” He said.

I obeyed.

“Patient’s cognitive clarity remains unhampered.” He said, writing on his paper again.

Time moved slower than Alice’s fall down the rabbit hole. I was tested again and again, made to do the same things over and over, with agonizingly long breaks in between.

“At the three hour marker, a fresh blood draw shows promising results. Infection is now at thirty percent.” He said, scribbling quickly.

I was getting colder, shivering in my chair as he watched.

“Patient’s temperature is dropping.” He said.

He didn’t ask me to do anything for a while after that, he just sat and watched me instead. After what seemed like an eternity, he drew my blood again.

“Infection is at seventy percent at the five hour marker.” He mumbled.

I knew I was getting closer to turning, but I couldn’t do anything. Though my body and mind were working perfectly, I couldn’t make my libs do what I wanted. They acted all on their own. I simply sat there and huffed, my heartbeat getting faster and faster. He pulled off the electrodes, wiping the gel from them off my skin with a bit of paper towel. I hadn’t seen a paper towel in ages.

“The infection is almost completely set in.” He said to me. “I’m going to go upstairs to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

I tried to say no, but it came out a low moan. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty or much of anything else except cold. Who did he think he was, anyways? Leaving me alone, moments from my turning completely, to get something to eat?

“Then get inside the cell, please.” He said, holding the cell door open.

I ambled forward on his command and retreated into the depths of the glass cage. He locked the door behind me and drew the curtains around it, giving me some privacy. Not that it mattered anymore.

I didn’t know how long Bobby was gone, but when he came back the cold feeling was worse, and my heart felt like it was going to tango right out of my chest.

“Drink this.” He said, opening the cell door and handing me a glass of water.

I tried, but I couldn’t make the water stay in my mouth, let alone go down my throat. I held it back out to him in a shaking hand.

“No, drink it.” He said.

I thrust the cup forward again.

He sighed, took it from me, and tilted my head back, pouring the remaining water down my throat. I gagged. Water dribbled down my chin, drenching my clothes and sprinkling the floor.

“Damn it.” He said. “Why won’t you just drink it?”

I stared at him. He was supposed to be the medical genius, he should figure it out.