~Intro
Hey there, my lovely readers!
If you’re new to my writing, let me warn you that my mind is a twisted and scary place. But don’t worry, it’s all in good fun! If you’re not into that kind of thing, no hard feelings if you want to skip my stories.
I should also mention that my stories are not for the faint of heart. There’s plenty of adult language, adult content, violence, and graphic scenes that might possibly be triggering to some. So, read at your own risk and with caution!
But, if you’re up for a wild ride and want to dive into the depths of my twisted imagination, then buckle up! I welcome any and all constructive criticism. After all, I can only improve if you tell me what you think.
And lastly, I can’t thank you enough for your support. Your likes, shares, comments, and subscriptions mean the world to me! You’re the reason I keep writing these weird and wonderful stories.
So, get ready for more madness and mayhem in the future!
CK
~Summary
When my parents kicked the bucket, I thought that was the universe’s way of saying “screw you” to me. But little did I know, life had an even bigger “screw you” in store.
Then one sunny summer day out of nowhere, the Infected appeared. And man, were they ugly. Feral, bloodthirsty, savage beasts that looked like they’d been hit with the ugly stick- no scratch that- the ugly tree one too many times.
But fear not, for Phoenix Corp arrived on the scene, wielding their science skills like superheroes. They cooked up a cure that saved the day, rescued us from the Infected menace.
Or so we thought...
Suddenly, everything I knew was turned on its head when Phoenix agents showed up at my door at midnight and demanded access.
I never thought I’d find myself allied with the Infected, the very creatures I saw as my mortal enemy. It’s like friends became foes and foes became friends, and I’m left questioning everything I ever believed.
But hey, at least I’ve got a front-row seat to the apocalypse. It’s a wild ride, and I’m strapped in for the long haul. Who knows what craziness is yet to come?
Oh, did I mention the infected had mouthwatering abs?
Oh boy...
~Prologue
My name is Bellamy Winters, I love baking and coffee cake is my jam- not literal jam but you get it. But alas, when you’re constantly running for your life, baking is the last thing on your mind.
Did I mention my travelling companion is a grumpy-faced, ex-military Infected, complete with a sexy accent and a bad attitude? He’s about as pleasant as a porcupine in a balloon factory. But hey, at least he’s handy in a fight. Who needs a normal life when you can have this level of chaos? Sure, I miss my coffee cake and my silicone rubber spatulas, but survival trumps coffee cake.
Right?
July 2009...
Every time I walked down the streets of Oak Valley I could feel their eyes on me. They saw me as the girl whose parents died, the one who was left to carry the burden of sorrow and loss. Living in a small town made it even harder to escape their sympathetic glances and sorrowful stares.
Three years had passed since that fateful day, but the wound still felt fresh. I had lost the two most important people in my life, and no amount of time would ever make that pain go away. The memories haunted me every day, and in a town where everyone knew everyone else’s business, there was no escaping it, especially on their anniversary.
It felt like a never-ending cycle of grief, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was stuck in it forever. People say time heals all wounds, but sometimes it felt like time was just a cruel reminder of what I had lost.
Living in a small town has its perks, but it also has its drawbacks. The same people who offered me comfort and support after my parents died were now the same people who couldn’t help but bring up the past every time they saw me. Their good memories meant that I could never escape my past, no matter how much I tried.
“You’re home early? Ah thought you were goin’ to the mall with your friends.”
“Why? So, the entire town could whisper and point behind my back,” I grumbled.
“You know what I think we need?” She pulled me into her arms, giving me a tight squeeze. “My famous peach cobbler pie. Why don’t you run back and pick me up some nice, plump peaches.”
“You can’t fix everythin’ with baked goods, Aunt Grace.”
“Sho’ Ah can. Now, scoot,” she says with a wink, shooing me out of the kitchen.
I wandered through the rows of peach trees, enjoying the sun’s warmth on my skin, I couldn’t resist plucking a plump peach from one of the branches. The sweet, juicy flavour exploded in my mouth as I savoured each bite. Ripe peach. Yum...
Suddenly, I heard a low growl that seemed to be coming from over the fence, from old man Rust’s yard. It sounded like a dog. Old man Rust didn’t have a dog. I shrugged it off and went back to picking the peaches. After a while, the growl soon grew louder and more feral making it hard to ignore.
Maybe he did get a dog?
I put my basket down and peered over the top of the fence. My eyes widened and my blood ran cold. Old man Rust was writhing on the ground, his body contorting and convulsing in a way that defied all logic. His skin was rippling and bulging, and I could see sharp fangs and claws emerging from his fingers and toes. His growls and snarls grew more ominous and feral with each passing moment, and his eyes were bloodied and now filled with a primal hunger and madness.
Suddenly, Old Man Rust’s wife appeared on the porch. I wanted to tell her to go back inside, to run, to call the sheriff, the exorcist, but I was too scared.
“Rust darlin’ did you— oh my God!” Tears streamed down her face as her hands shot up over her mouth.
Suddenly he flips over on all fours looking crazier than a bedbug in a belfry, and foaming at the mouth. I didn’t stick around to see what happened next. Soon I could hear his wife’s deafening screams and pleas for help as I bolted toward the safety of my home. My heart pounding and my mind reeling with disbelief at what I had just witnessed.
What did I just witness?
Chapter 1: Bless your heart.
~August 24th, 2022
I swear I’ve been standing here longer than a cow takes to give birth and this clerk is more focused on his football game than me! Finally, I clear my throat— twice— and he glances up, giving me a look like I’m interrupting his game-winning touchdown.
“I’m here for my quarterly PIT, you know, that thing people come here for?” He looks like I asked for his firstborn child.
He scans his employee card and types into his computer. When the biometric scanner beeps, I place my thumb on it to be pricked. When it turns green, I remove my thumb and the scanner automatically sanitizes itself. After ten seconds the printer prints out my result.
“Thanks for the excellent customer service,” I say as I grab my results and walk out of the store. They hire anyone these days.
As I’m getting into my car, my phone rings, and to my dismay, it’s my aunt calling for the fifth time today. With a heavy sigh, I answer and brace myself for whatever conspiracy theory she has cooked up this time.
“Yes, Aunt Grace?” I say, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
“We need to talk, and it’s serious,” she says urgently.
Every week it’s something serious. “Can’t we talk about it later? I’m just about to head home,” I reply, hoping to get off the phone quickly.
“But this is important, Bell. It’s about...you know who,” she says in a hushed voice. “I can’t say their name on the phone. You never know who might be listenin’.”
I roll my eyes, feeling my patience wearing thin. “Aunt Grace, I don’t have time for this. I have my own life to worry about, and I don’t need your conspiracy theories adding to my stress.” I have been working doubles all week because we are short-staffed at the restaurant. And I really can’t handle crazy time right now.
“You don’t have to get all riled up like a wet hen. I’m just tryin’ to look out for you, darlin’. You know I wouldn’t steer you wrong. But mark my words, the chickens will come home to roost one of these days. You can’t bury your head in the sand forever,” she warns.
I can’t take it anymore. “Enough, Aunt Grace! I’m sick of hearing the same nonsense from you every day. I’m done listening to your crazy stories. If you can’t respect my opinions, then we have nothing to talk about,” I snap.
There is a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line, and I hang up before she can say anything else. I forgot how bullheaded she can be about this whole thing. I know I was harsh, but I couldn’t let her continue to drag me down with her paranoid delusions. I love my aunt dearly. She’s been my rock ever since my parents passed. Then the Alpha-One Neurological Syndrome outbreak happened and she just up and snapped like a twig. She became increasingly paranoid and would spin the wildest tales you could imagine. I thought it was just a phase, like her alien fixation. She was sure as a possum in a persimmon tree that aliens were out there. So sure, that she made fancy tin foil hats to keep them from reading her thoughts. So, when she started ranting about how Phoenix Corp, the Saviours — the very people that were hailed as our heroes during the A1NS outbreak— were involved in some kind of shady business, I waited. And waited. And waited… Eventually, it only got worse. Her paranoia grew faster than a rabbit on a carrot farm. She was always looking over her shoulder and seeing danger around every corner, like a hawk on the hunt. It was like she couldn’t trust anyone or anything, and her fears just kept multiplying.
The Saviours were our lifeline during the dark days of the lockdown. They were like a lighthouse in a storm, guiding us to safety when we didn’t know which end was up. I’ll never forget the fear and uncertainty that gripped us all as that disease spread like wildfire. People I have known all my life acting like wild animals and attacking each other. But the Saviours rose to the challenge like a phoenix from the ashes.
Maybe that’s how they got their name?
They came up with the premonitory indicator tests to catch the disease early, and a drug that stopped it in its tracks. They were our protectors, our Saviours, and our beacon of hope when all seemed lost. We owe them a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid. And yet, my aunt was convinced that they were up to no good. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How could she possibly think that the very organization that had been our saviours was involved in heinous human experiments, money laundering, kidnapping, murdering, human trafficking, blackmailing and I could go on and on. It was all inconceivable to me. And one of the reasons I had to leave home. I just couldn’t take one more of her insane conspiracy theories.
I need a nap.
I jolt awake to an obnoxiously loud banging on my door. I fumble for my phone to check the time – 11:30 PM.
“What the…” I switch on the lamp at my bedside. I sluggishly make my way to the door, “Hold your horses!” I shout as the knocking persists.
I peek through the peephole. Lo and behold, it’s my aunt, looking more frazzled than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
What now? I sigh.
As soon as I open the door, she barges in, nearly knocking me off my feet. She slams the door shut and puts on the chain like she’s in some kind of Mission Impossible movie. Before I can even utter a word, she starts shutting curtains and goes into a full-on meltdown about uncovering some kind of conspiracy involving the Saviours. She’s talking so fast that I can barely keep up.
“Slow down, slow down, I can barely understand a word—”
“Ain’t got no time to slow down! We gotta skedaddle right this minute! They’re on to us!” she exclaims, practically pulling her hair out.
“Who’s on to us? Who are you talking about?”
“Phoenix! They’re coming for us!” she cries, looking like she’s about to have a breakdown.
“You have got to be kidding me! Are you seriously waking me up for this?!” I exclaim, frustration seeping through my voice.
“Bell, we need to go! They know I have it! We’re not safe here anymore.” She starts mumbling to herself, “I didn’t know it was being tracked. We need to leave, we need to get out of here before it respun.” I can’t make out most of her mumbo-jumbo as she paces back and forth like a caged animal. “This is not—” Suddenly, she halts, her gaze fixed on the wall.
“Aunt Grace?”
She blinks and looks at me as if she was in a trance. “We gotta high-tail it outta here, pronto!” Her voice is laced with urgency, snapping out of whatever that was.
“This is insane. I’m not going anywhere,” I growl, my patience wearing thin. “I’m done with all of this. Done with the conspiracy theories and the paranoia. Just leave, Aunt Grace.” I stride over to the door and yank it open.
She looks at me with pleading eyes, but I stand my ground. “Bell—”
“I mean it. You need to leave. Now.” It hurt to say those words, but I can’t take it anymore. “I’m done.”
“Bellamy…” she exhales looking defeated and broken. It broke my heart. “Darlin’, these folks are as treacherous as a snake in the grass. They will stop at nothin’ to get what they want and don’t care who gets hurt along the way. You gotta trust me on this. They ain’t the good guys. They’re more crooked than a dog’s hind leg. You don’t even know the half of it.”
“I’m done,” my voice low and serious leaving no room for her silly argument. The silence deafening.
My aunt can see that I’m not backing down, and she lets out a deep sigh as she starts making her way towards the door, wearing a look of disappointment on her face. Suddenly we hear the distinct sound of car doors opening and shutting outside. She stops in her tracks and turns towards the window, her eyes wide with fear.
“It’s probably just someone who lives around here,” I try to reassure her, but she doesn’t seem convinced. She rushes over to the window and pulls back the curtain slightly, peering outside. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“I had no idea that the folks ‘round here were rollin’ in Range Rovers and decked out in tactical gear.”
“What?” I roll my eyes, shut the door and march over to her. I pull back the curtain. “What are you talking—” I pause when I saw a small group of men dressed in black tactical gear now standing outside, their rovers parked across the street.
“They could be patrolling the streets,” I point out which sounds like bullshit even to me. This is not the sight you want to see in the middle of the night. The guy in the middle motioned to my building.
“Maybe they’re lost and need some help findin’ their way to the main road,” Aunt Grace quipped.
“No,” I said shutting the curtain and shaking my head. “There has to be a logical explanation for this.”
“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you buzz’em up and ask?” She mocks.
“Fine, maybe I will,” I say stubbornly.
“Fine,” she replies folding her arms as she leans back on the wall. “Go ahead.”
I stomp over to the buzzer, heart racing. I hesitate before pressing the button on the intercom. Just as I make up my mind, the intercom buzzes, startling me. I jump, and my aunt darts towards me, shaking her head no.
“Don’t,” she whispers, but I’m determined to prove her wrong.
I clear my throat and answer. “Hello?”
The voice on the other end is sharp and scary. “Bellamy Winters?” it demands.
I hesitate for a moment before answering, “Yes?”
“I am Agent Smith with Phoenix Corp. I have a few urgent questions.”
“Agent Smith?” Aunt Grace scoffs. “Agent Smith? That’s about as believable as a hog riding a bicycle. This is 2022, honey, not the Wild West.”
Ignoring her comment, even though she has a point. “It’s almost midnight. Can’t this wait?”
“It’s an urgent matter of security that cannot wait. Buzz us up,” Agent Smith demands, sending chills down my spine.
“Listen to me, Bellamy,” my aunt says urgently, placing a hand on my arm. “We can’t let them in. And you know that.”
“No, I don’t,” I say. “We don’t know what they want. Maybe it has nothing to do with you. They—”
“It’s midnight and agent Smith, really Belle? Think? Deep down I know you feel it. Something ain’t right here,” she urges me with pleading eyes. “And what agent drives around in a Ranger rover wearing tactical gear and shows up at your house at quarter to twelve?”
“Miss Winters, are you there? We really need to speak with you. We have reason to believe that your life maybe in danger,” Agent Smith says.
“Bellamy,” she warns. “Don’t you go getting yourself into a hornet’s nest now. Think about what you’re doin’.”
I hesitate for a moment, but then my naivety gets the best of me. My aunt looks at me with disappointment in her eyes, but I push the buzzer anyway. As soon as I do, I know I’ve made a grave mistake.
“What have you done?” cries my aunt.
“The Saviours aren’t the enemy, Aunt Grace.”
“I didn’t want to tell you this,” her eyes tear up, “but you leave me no choice. The night of your parents’ accident. Noah told me he was fixin’ to skip town and wanted me to come along. He didn’t say why, just that he wanted to keep the family together.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“Do you know where your parents worked?”
“At some lab downtown.”
“ViroTech research centre, owned by Bennet Owens, husband of Katherine Owens aka Katherine Weston. As in Quintus Weston’s sister. Two days after your parents’ accident ViroTech went up in flames. An accidental. Fire.”
“That proves nothing,” I wave her off, feeling an uneasiness brewing in my stomach.
She pulls out a folded-up piece of paper. “Read it.”
“What is this?”
“Just read the first line,” she shoves it in my hand, as she darts to the window towards the fire escape and opens it.
Reluctantly, I read it.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Owens,
I am writing to formally submit my resignation from my position as the head of laboratory at ViroTech Research Center, effective July 7th,2006…
That’s two days after their accident…
“I—” I look up at my aunt baffled with more questions than answers.
A loud knock on the door causes me to jump.
My aunt looks at me, begging me with her eyes not to open the door.
“Miss Winters,” came the demanding voice of Agent Smith, “Open up.”
Chapter 2: An Infected in the house!
“One second,” I shout out as I grab my coat off the back of the couch and dash towards the fire escape.
We scramble down the metal fire escape, and the clanging of our footsteps echo loudly in the empty alleyway. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as we hurry down, the cool night air rushing past us. Suddenly, there is a loud crash and splintering wood as the door to the apartment is kicked in. I’m too scared and shocked to even react to their audacity. We don’t look up, we just keep going until our feet hit the ground and we take off running.
“I don’t understand!” I shout as we sprint down the street. Our breaths come out in ragged gasps. “Why are we running from the Saviours!?”
“The Saviours kicked your door down! Ain’t that enough reason to run for your life?”
Maybe…“Why are they after us in the first place? What did you do?”
“They think I know!”
“Know what?”
“More than I do! Turn here!”
We dart down a dark alleyway, where a rundown silver Volkswagen is parked. She unlocks the door, and we jump in.
“Is this your car?” I ask, trying to steady my breathing as she pulls onto the main road.
“You think I’m that dumb to use my own car?” she snorts. “They probably have that thing bugged.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home, darlin’. I’ve got a stash of cash and things we’ll be needin’.”
“Things we’ll be needing?” I retort, frustration seeping into my words.
“We can’t stay in this city Belle,” she explains.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I exclaim, my disbelief ringing clear.
“Belle—” she starts to say, attempting to calm me down.
“No way! This is absurd! I’ve got friends, a job, a home, a life right here!” I protest.
“I’ve seen bigger closets than that dinky lil’ apartment you call home.” She snorts. “You wanted to be a pastry chef, not wastin’ away cleanin’ tables. You work seven days a week, when would you even have time to have a life, dear?”
“There’s more to life than the size of my apartment or the hours I work. My dreams and aspirations are important to me, and I won’t give them up so easily. I have worked hard to build a life here, and it’s not fair to expect me to abandon everything simply because you can’t keep your crazy paranoia in check!”
“Well, if this whole thing is as nutty as a pecan pie in July, why in the world are they houndin’ us like a pack of hungry hounds on a scent? I’m doin’ what’s best for us.”
“Us?” I laugh dryly. “ You mean you, don’t you? This has to stop. You have to let this obsession with the Saviours go.”
The remainder of the ride passes in an unsettling silence, as both of us retreat into our own thoughts. Questions race through my mind like wild horses, leaving me bewildered. What in the world is happening? How did my parents’ accident fit into this tangled web? None of it seemed to make any sense, leaving me grasping for answers in a whirlwind of uncertainty.
We park a few blocks away and hop fences all the way to the house. A dark SUV is parked conspicuously across the street, sticking out like a sore thumb. We sneak in through the cellar, which is cleverly hidden behind the rosebushes. You wouldn’t know it’s here unless you were looking for it.
Aunt Grace drops a black backpack at my feet along with a pair of red sneakers that I quickly slide on. My feet are already aching from that little sprint session earlier.
“There’s some clothes and toiletries in there. I have to grab a few things from the office. You can wait here if you want, I won’t be long.”
“What does this have to do with my parents?” I demand as my aunt turns to leave.
She stops but doesn’t turn around. “Bell, it’s… complicated.”
I snort. “Complicated? That’s just a fancy way of saying you don’t want to tell me the truth.”
She turns to face me, her eyes stern. “I know you think I’m crazy but everything I’m tellin’ you is true. Phoenix Corp is about as trustworthy as a rattlesnake in a henhouse.”
“What does this have to do with my parents?” I repeat stubbornly.
“I’m not completely sure yet of their involvement. But I know there is more to this. Like the way, they were acting before the accident. And now, these people showin’ up at your apartment. It’s all connected, Bell,” she insists.
“A letter doesn’t prove anything. It could be any number of reasons why they wanted to leave.”
“Maybe, but it’s not just the letter. It’s everything else too. Your father worked alongside nine other folks, all of them just happened to be dead. Two in the fiery blaze that engulfed VRC, three suicides, a couple of unfortunate accidents, food poisoning, boating mishaps, and even an anaphylactic shock caused by bees. And let’s not forget the classic ‘trip-and-fall-down-the-stairs’ routine. It’s almost like these smart and cheerful scientists couldn’t help but shoot themselves in the foot or find themselves six feet under. You think all their deaths were just a fluke?”
“Why would VRC want them dead?”
“Now that’s the million-dollar question. And who said it was VRC?”
“Then who else could it be?” My parents were good people. Who would want to hurt them?
“Phoenix Corp was one of the major shareholders of VRC.”
As the realization dawned on me, I asked incredulously, “You can’t seriously think the Saviours had anything to do with this?”
“Are you yankin’ my chain?” She looks at me as if she can’t believe what she is hearing. “After everything that happened, you still think they’re the good guys? Bellamy, open your eyes and look around. Folks are vanishing left and right.”
“That’s Prime’s doing. The Saviours are trying to stop them. And for all we know those men that show up today could be working for Prime and pretending to be Saviours.” I throw my arms up in the air.
“Bless-your-heart child,” she sighs, shaking her head with a disappointed expression. “I’ll be right back.”
Why would VRC have my parents killed? There was no way the Saviours could be involved in anything like that.
No.
No way!
They build walls to protect us. They work with the government to protect our borders from the infected and fight against the radical group that calls themselves Apex Prime. They build orphanages for those children that lost their parents in the A1NS outbreak. Better hospitals and state-of-the-art research facilities to help study the disease and better understand it. They even donate money to those families who suffer from the mindless cruel attacks of Apex Prime. I mean really couldn’t they come up with a better name than something out of a Transformers movie?
There has to be another explanation for all of this. New York City is one of the safest states in the country because of the Saviours and I have no intention of going anywhere soon.
I glance at the door and realize my aunt isn’t back yet. I wait a few more minutes before climbing up the stairs to see what is taking so long.
All the air sucks out of my lungs when I see her standing in front of an infected.
The night stalkers.
The soul eaters.
The infected hellhound.
The plague-festers.
The undead.
The cursed ones.
How an infected got into the city, was baffling enough. Most infected kept to the Wastelands as agreed upon by the treaty they signed a decade ago. But what is even more baffling and alarming is why is one in our living room sitting on our recliner looking like the harbinger of death!?
There were three ways to identify an infected.
One—their size, muscle-bound with abnormally wide shoulders.
Two—their canines, sharp pointy deadly flesh-ripping fangs.
And if that wasn’t enough, third and lastly, their demonic pitch-black eyes. Not a drop of white can be spotted. However, one thing everyone failed to mention was how insanely handsome they were. Which damn near knocked me off my feet.
I blinked.
If I wasn’t about to pee my strawberry shorts, I would have been drooling all over this guy like a hound dog in heat. His face is all chiselled angles and masculine features like he had been carved out of marble by the gods. Silky copper red hair tied up in a half ponytail and a stubble of a beard covering a strong, sexy jaw.
Everything we know about the infected suggests they were deformed, ugly, feral, bloodthirsty, zombified creatures. I was expecting something straight out of Resident Evil but this man-thing-beast-infected was no rotten mutated corpse. And most certainly not deformed or ugly in any shape or form. He wasn’t a half-naked decomposing carcass covered in blood and dirt with flesh hanging from his canines. No, he was sitting in our recliner like a— normal person? Not sitting with his feet up or peeing on the furniture. This man-infected— creature appeared… domesticated?
He arches a brow at me watching me watch him. Probably trying to figure out which one of my limbs he wants to rip off and murder me with. Or use as a toothpick after he rips our flesh from our bones. Fear chills my heart as I stumble back into the wall with a loud thud. I draw in a sharp breath and hold it, too afraid to breathe…move…think.
“What was your brother’s involvement with Phoenix Corp?” he asks my aunt or more like demands an answer in his sexy deep accent.
Of course, he has a sexy Scottish accent.
Why wouldn’t he?
Wait a second!
He. Spoke. Like sentences and shit. We were told Infected can’t speak, all they do is growl and grunt, and eat and fight and do the dirty. But he-he… did?
“You can talk?” The word left my mouth before I could stop myself.
“Don’t look so surprised,” his voice low and cold sending shivers down my spine.
And not the good kind.
“Forgive her, she is pretty as a peach but…” Aunt Grace trails off, trying to find the right adjective.
I frown.
“Indoctrinated,” he added matter-of-factly with a scowl.
Aunt Grace cringed but didn’t disagree.
Indoctrinated!? Why you low down—
“I don’t know if my brother knew he was working for Phoenix Corp or the stake they had in the company. I know he was working on a cure for Alzheimer’s, but he never talked much about his work.”
“Oh, why stop there,” I mumble under my breath. “Why not just give him our social security numbers, bank account information, and the keys to our house while you’re at it?”
I know he hears me judging by the tick in his jaw, but my aunt doesn’t as she sells us out to the enemy.
“Then why are Phoenix agents after you?”
“Because of this,” she pulls out the letter and hands it to him without resistance.
I fling my arms up in the air exasperatedly.
“What does this have to do with Phoenix Corp?” he asks, handing the letter back to her after scanning through it.
“I believe my brother knew something and it got him killed, along with his entire team. What? That I don’t know.”
“Really, he is an infected!” I finally snap and immediately regret it. His stony gaze turns to ice as he glares at me with his demon eyes.
My throat squeezes shut.
I’m going to die.
“Please forgive her.” I watch with numb horror while my aunt begs for my life as he stands to his full terrifying length.
He has to be taller than seven feet. Easily seven-two if I had to guess. Not like it matters now, I am about to die because of my big mouth. He could literally tear my tongue from my mouth.
“You gotta’ excuse her, she’s been through a lot tonight,” my aunt pleads. “It’s been a rough one for all of us.”
“Her ignorance is no excuse for her bad manners,” he growls. “If she wants an infected, then I’ll show her an infected!”
Chapter 3: Deal with the Devil.
“Please, she’s sorry. Right Bellamy?”
I was at a loss for words mostly because I was too terrified of what he was going to do to me. I nod frantically instead.
“I can snap your neck like a wee stick,” he threatened with a growl.”Or rip your arms off and leave you for your Saviours to find. Give me one fuckin’ reason why I shouldn’t?”
My heart was pounding as I struggled to come up with a response to his menacing words. My palms were slick with sweat, and my voice trembled as I spoke. My aunt looked at me, silently begging me not to say something else stupid that can get us both killed.
“Uh, well,” I began, my mind racing. “For starters, I don’t think I’d look very good without arms. I mean, have you seen those movies where someone gets their arm ripped off? It’s not pretty. And as for the Saviours...” My aunt shakes her head no in a warning. They are going to kick your disease-ridden zombified ass back to whatever hole you crawled out of. She was already breaking out in a sweat. “Well, I’m pretty sure they’re not going to appreciate finding a limbless body lying around. It’s not exactly a great way to make a good first impression.” I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “And, um, I kinda need my limbs and neck, you know? I mean, I don’t think I could survive very well without them. So if it’s all the same to you, I’d really appreciate it if don’t rip them off.” My aunt nodded for me to continue; I knew what she wanted me to say. It was my pride or my life. Making coffee cake limbless would be tricky. “And… I’m sorry.”
“What was that?” he asked as if he couldn’t hear me. Yeah, I may have whispered the end but we both know he heard me. I shot him a quick glare.
“I am… sorry.” I ground out a little louder. Jerk
He just stared at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might actually go through with his threats. But then he seemed to relax, his shoulders slumping slightly.
“You’re not worth the bother,” he muttered under his breath.
With that, he turned and walked towards the window where he peered out from the side of the curtain. I let out a shaky breath, my knees weak with relief.
“Phoenix can’t just be after you because of a letter. What else do you know? And don’t be thinkin’ of lying to me, I’ll know.”
“Why should we tell you anything?” Shut up, you idiot! Are you trying to die?
“Because you both are still breathin’,” he shot back without missing a beat. “Keep mouthin’ off and we can change that.”
I felt a chill run down my spine at his words. He had a way of making even the bravest of souls cower in fear. But he had no right to break into our house and speak to us like that.
“You can threaten us all you want, but we’re not going to give up information just because you ask so nicely,” I replied, mustering every ounce of courage to respond, attempting to project defiance. At the same time, my insides quivered like a leaf caught in the grip of a thunderstorm.
All the colour drained from my aunt’s face, looking like she was on the brink of fainting.
He chuckled darkly as if he found my bravery amusing. “You’ve got spunk, I’ll give you that. But let’s see how long that boldness lasts.” He extends his deadly sharp claws.
My heart stops. I gulp.
Now I’ve done it. Open mouth, insert foot here.
“Wait!” My Aunt jumps between us. “I’ll tell you anything you want, just don’t hurt us. Please. She’s all I have left. Please.”
He retracted his claw, almost looking disappointed. Bastard. He nods for her to continue.
“My brother and his wife had just bought themselves a fancy house in London and were planning to leave the continent before they passed. They had even gone and sold their old house. But then, the accident happened, and it just didn’t make any sense. They said it was brake failure, but my brother loved three things in life: his family, his job, and that car he built from scratch. Anyone who knew Noah knew that was pure hogwash. But there was never any proof of foul play, so they closed the case. I just couldn’t believe it was an accident, but I had no proof to show. Then, VRC went up in flames and people he worked with started dyin’ left and right. I knew something wasn’t right. So, I hired a private investigator, but he came up with diddly-squat. And the cops wouldn’t even think about reopening the case. Said there wasn’t enough evidence. I felt helpless as a one-legged cat trying to bury a turd in a frozen pond. But I couldn’t just dwell on that,” she says, turning to me with tears in her eyes and a sad smile. “I had an eleven-year-old girl to raise and explain to her why she would never see her parents again.” I remained silent as she continued on. “Then, a year later, Lennie Snyder, one of Noah’s co-workers, sent me a letter before he hanged himself. The news said he went into depression after losin’ his job.” My aunt rolls her eyes clearly not believing the news.
“What did the letter say?”
“Two words,” she answered him. “Phoenix Corp. I was as lost as a goose in a hailstorm when I first heard that name. Then comes outta nowhere this pharmaceutical company that no one ever heard of before, and they fixed everything up nice and tidy. Now ain’t that just peachy keen? Then just the other day I found Noah’s resignation letter squirrelled away behind an old filing cabinet. And that ain’t all I found.”
“I’m not in the mood for games,” he growls.
“Take us with you and I’ll tell you.”
“Aunt Grace!” I gape at her. Has she finally lost all her marbles?
“I know you don’t see it, but you will. I think Phoenix Corp was somehow responsible for your parent’s death and the fire was to cover up—”
“This is absurd. He is an—”
“Say it again and see what happens lass,” he growls deadly bearing his fangs.
I swallow—hard. Not even I was stupid enough to repeat that mistake twice. Infected really hated to be called infected.
“We can’t trust him.”
“I’m sorry. But this is for your own good. Do we have a deal?”
“I’m not going anywhere with him,” I hiss.
“This is bigger than you know Bell.”
“What I know is that you are willing to betray your own race for the likes of these animals. Have you forgotten what they have done? What they are capable of? All the lives lost. All the violence.”
“Have you ever wondered how this all started? If they had a choice in the matter?”
“They are monsters!”
“They are human.”
“Were human. They have more in common with Wolverine than they do with us.”
“Who’s Wolverine?”
“Never mind. This is crazy Aunt Grace. We—”
“Get down!” he shouts as the air was filled with bullets whizzing past our ears.
Glass shattered as the bullets smashed through the windows, showering the room with deadly shards. The furniture was no match for the barrage of bullets as they tore through couches, chairs, and tables, leaving gaping holes in their wake.
When the sound of gunfire finally ceased, it left a deafening silence in its wake. I slowly raise my head, my heart pounding in my chest as I take in the chaos around me. Shattered glass littered the floor, and bullet holes marred the walls and furniture. Smoke, dust and debris fill the air, making it difficult to breathe or see.
“Keep your head down,” said the infected as he stood and move to the window swiftly for a better look.
“Grace Winters and Bellamy Winters,” came Agent Smith’s voice. “We know you’re in there.”
What the hell! Why would they just open fire like that on us?
“We just want to talk!”
Really? You coulda fooled me.
“Do we have a deal or not?” My aunt asked the infected.
“It doesn’t seem like you have much of a leg to stand on here lassie. They aren’t here for me.”
“It’s a flash drive. Who knows what could be on it?”
”For all you know, it could be nothin’ of value.”
“Whatever is on it is highly encrypted and belongs to my brother. I am willing to bet it has information about VRC and Phoenix and what he was working on or even why he was killed. They killed eleven people and burned the building down. That’s one massive cover-up if I ever saw one.”
“We are coming in! Stand down!”
“Please, help us and the flash drive is yours.”
“Why do we need his help? The Saviours are here.”
They both looked at me as if I was dumber than a box of rocks.
“Do we have a deal?” my aunt asks him as we hear footsteps getting closer.
Chapter 4: An offer you can’t refuse.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he growls, handing my aunt his car key and then pulling out two guns. “The car’s outback. I’ll cover you.” He starts shooting at the agents and all hell broke loose once more.
In a frantic scramble, we raced towards the back door, bullets whizzing past us like angry hornets. My aunt tosses me the key as we approached the SUV.
“Why are they shooting at us?!”
“Bless your heart, but sometimes I swear you’re thicker than your mama’s grits.”
We hurried into the car. “This must be some kind of mistake. They must think we’re with the infected or something!”
“I know I should have never let you move out. They turned you into a sheep who follows the herd without a lick of sense.”
“Oh spare me the lecture —” Suddenly shots ring out, shattering the back windshield. I scream and duck down, dropping the keys and shielding my head.
This can’t be happening!
This can’t be happening!
“The key goes in the ignition not the floor lass,” I heard his annoyed voice.
In an instant, before I could fully comprehend the situation, he effortlessly scooped me up, settling me on his lap. With a swift start of the engine, he pressed the pedal to the metal, propelling us forward at breakneck speed.
“Watch out for the fence!” I screamed pointing to the barbed wire fence.
“Fuck the fence,” he shot back, ploughing through it, taking down a stop sign in the process.
The sound of roaring engines filled the night air as bikers and rovers closed in on us.
“Watch out for the people!” The people on the sidewalk were caught in the crossfire of our high-speed chase, diving out of the way as we careened down the sidewalk.
With a sharp turn, we raced down a narrow side road lined with overflowing dumpsters.
“Watch out for the cat!” I squealed, my heart hammering against my chest. Thankfully, the nimble cat was quick enough to dart out of his way, narrowly evading the reckless frenzy of his driving. “You nearly killed that cat!”
“You do realize people are tryin’ to kill us and you’re worried about a wee cat?”
“A little compassion wouldn’t hurt.”
“Compassion won’t keep us alive either, “ he snapped back, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“That doesn’t mean we abandon all decency and disregard everything else around us!”
He scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Aye, because a cat’s life is more important than our own. Brilliant thinkin’ lassie.”
Frustration coursed through my veins as I shot back, “It’s not about the cat, it’s about empathy, about acknowledging that life matters beyond your own skin!”
His retort dripped with cynicism. “Well, congratulations on your profound realization. Maybe you can save the world one wee cat at a time while we’re bein’ hunted down!” He then smashed through an outdoor cafe like a bull in a china shop.
I held on for dear life as we flew into oncoming traffic, ignoring the red light like it was a mere suggestion.
“We’re gonna die!” I shrieked, closing my eyes and bracing for impact. But instead of slowing down, the maniac behind the wheel hit the gas, veering sharply to the right and onto the wrong side of the road. “How did you even get a license?” I yelled, my voice trembling with fear.
“Let’s not let my terrible drivin’ skills add to our troubles. If you want I can pull over and ask the nice fellows with the AKs to stop shootin’ at us!”
“Well, I’m sorry if I’m just trying to make sure we don’t end up flatter than a possum on a country road on top of being shot at!” I ducked down instinctively as bullets whizzed past, shattering the rearview mirror.
He lets out a groan. “Fuck.”
The car suddenly spun around and came to an abrupt stop, I felt myself lurch forward, screaming for dear life. But just as I was about to collide with the steering wheel, he reached out and wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me tight against his heated brick wall chest. Despite the chaos and danger around us, I couldn’t help but notice the intimate way our bodies were pressed together.
I forcefully pushed aside those intrusive thoughts, very much aware that now was neither the time nor the place for such distractions. It was irrelevant how captivating his scent was, or the involuntary shudder that coursed through me whenever his breath gently brushed against the side of my neck. Equally inconsequential was the tingling trail of electrifying sensation left in the wake of his skin rubbing against mine. Focusing on the immediate danger at hand, I compelled myself to banish these frustrating horrible thoughts and sensations to the back of my mind and pray and hope to God he doesn’t crash and kill us all.
“I think we lost them?” I gasped, a fleeting sense of relief washing over me.
“No, we didn’t. Here they come!” my aunt exclaims. “ They are sniffing out our trail like a coonhound.”
He skillfully manoeuvres the car in reverse. With one arm still firmly around my waist and the other on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the bikers hurtling towards us. Like a seasoned stunt driver, he pivots the vehicle towards them, causing them to swerve out of the way just in the nick of time.
Well… most of them.
He merges onto the highway and accelerates with lightning speed. Suddenly thick grey smoke begins to emerge from the hood of the car.
My aunt turned to me with a worried expression and said, “Don’t worry, honey, it’s just a minor car malfunction.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her optimism. “Yeah, sure. Because a car spewing smoke like a chimney is totally reliable.”
“Shit,” he mutters as the car speeds up even more.
I glance back and saw no one in pursuit, but my relief is short-lived.
“Shouldn’t you be slowing down?” I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
“I can’t,” he replies grimly.
“What do you mean you can’t?!” I practically scream.
“We lost the brakes,” he explains casually as if we weren’t hurtling down the highway with no way to stop.
“We lost the brakes?!” I repeat, my eyes wide with terror.
“Aye, that’s what I said,” he responds nonchalantly.
“So, what’s our plan here? Are we going for the crash-and-burn approach?”
He shoots me an irritated glare. “You really don’t make keepin’ you in this bloody car easy.”
He swerves the car to the left, cutting across three lanes of traffic. Horns blare as other drivers swerve to avoid colliding with us. A cacophony of angry honks filled the air as we sped past, narrowly avoiding a collision with a semi-truck. The rush of air whips through my hair as I gripped the edge of my seat, white-knuckled and wide-eyed.
We’re going to die!
“Get ready to jump.”
“What? Are you out of your mind? We’re not jumping out of a speeding car!” I protest.
“You rather the crash and burn approach?” he mocks.
I open my mouth to tell him what approach I would prefer when I heard my aunt’s low frail voice, “Belle?”
My words caught in my throat as I looked at my aunt, blood oozing from her mouth and her face turning paler by the second. My face mirrored hers as I took in her blood-soaked shirt.
“No, no, no, you’re going to be alright. We are going to get you help. Right?” I asked him.
“The bullet hit a major organ. She’ll bleed out before we get there.”
“I don’t fucking care!” I scream tears streaming down my face. “Take us to the hospital. She is not dying like this!”
He remained silent; his eyes fixed on the road ahead as if nothing else mattered. My aunt’s weak voice interrupted my thoughts, “Bellamy darlin’ calm down. He’s right.”
But I couldn’t calm down. Not when my aunt was dying before my eyes. I felt helpless, desperate, and scared. My aunt’s life was slipping away, and I didn’t know what to do. All I could do was watch in horror as she took her last breath.
“No, he’s not. He doesn’t know anything. He’s not a doctor. He’s barely human what does he know? You’ll be fine. You’ll see. Take us to the hospital. Now!” I demanded. “Turn this car around! Please,” I cried.
“Bellamy listen to me. You have to do as he says—”
“No! No! No! You’ll be fine—”
“— I love you.”
“— you’ll see. Please don’t leave me.” I clutched onto her hand, willing her to stay with me. “Please, Aunt Grace, don’t leave me,” I begged, shaking her gently. “Open your eyes, you’re going to be alright. Just open your eyes and look at me. Please. I’ll even move back home. Or we can even move back to Georgia like we talked about. Please.”
But as she took her final breath, a part of me died with her. “No, no, no!” I screamed, holding onto her lifeless body. “This can’t be happening!”
“We need to jump.”
How could he expect me to leave my aunt behind like she was nothing but a burden to be discarded? I refused to let her go. “I can’t leave her. She deserves better than this. She’s all I have. Please, please help me?”
“She’s gone, lass—”
“No, she’s not! She can’t be.”
“Fuck it.” He pulls me close, his arms wrapping tightly around my body as he leaps out of the car, my legs flailing as we hit the ground and rolled a few times before coming to a stop. The screeching of tires and the sound of metal colliding fills the air as the car slams into a nearby guardrail and explodes in a fiery ball of flames.
My heart shattered into a million pieces as I watched the car in flames with my aunt inside. I struggled and fought against his grip, screaming and hitting him with all my might. But he held me tight, refusing to let go, until I collapsed in his arms, exhausted and defeated. Tears streamed down my face as I succumbed to the darkness that enveloped me, leaving me alone with my fear and grief.
As I slowly regained consciousness, I found myself in a dimly lit cave by a small fire.
The memories of my aunt’s face and the sound of the car exploding replayed in my head over and over. I was so consumed by my grief that I hadn’t realized the black piece of cloth— which looked like it came from his t-shirt— wrapped around my right wrist. Or the cuts and bruises on my arms and legs. Nor did I notice him tending to his own wounds. He was shirtless, revealing the scars and tattoos covering his brawny chest and arms. He held a blade over the fire, and I watched as he dug the bullets out of his shoulder with ease that would make my stomach turn.
“She’s dead because of me.” I barely heard my own voice. I didn’t expect him to.
“She’s dead because of Phoenix.”
I shake my head, unable to accept his words. “But if I had just believed her if I had just listened...”
“There was nothing you could have done. We can’t change the past. All you can do is honour her memory and keep movin’ forward.”
I wipe away a tear angrily. “Easy for someone like you to say,” I spat.
He simply nodded and stood putting on his ripped shirt. I know I shouldn’t take my anger out on him after he saved us, saved me…
“I’m sorry. I…” I choked out, my voice barely audible over the crackling fire as my gaze fell to the ground.
It was difficult to look at him, let alone express my gratitude. Especially after all they’ve done. They took delight in the pain and misery of others, treating humans as mere prey for their twisted sport. They would abduct innocent women, subjecting them to unimaginable horrors for their own sick pleasure, and ultimately ending their lives without a shred of remorse. Their humanity had been completely extinguished, leaving behind only wild and savage beasts devoid of any compassion or mercy. It made me sick. My heart raced with fear and uncertainty, wondering if I was safe in his presence.
Yet here we were. He took me to safety and bandaged my wrist. It was a hard truth to admit, but he had risked his own life to save us. He could have left us at the house. Maybe my aunt would still be alive.
Or maybe we both would be dead.
I owed him my life. It was a debt I could never fully repay. And if my aunt could trust someone like him, I sure as hell could put my pride aside and try.
“Where are you going?” I asked, scrambling to my feet when I noticed him leaving. He kept walking, not bothering to look back. “Wait, you can’t just leave me here. Where are you going? I know you can hear me.”
“The Wasteland. Interested?” he retorted sarcastically. I cringe instinctively and halt in my tracks. “Didn’t think so.”
The very name alone sends chills down my spine. The Wasteland is a lawless, abandoned region of the country where the infected had taken over after the A1NS outbreak. The once-beautiful landscape is now desolate, with buildings and homes left in ruins. But the worst part is the infected. They are the true masters of this dead zone. Known to be cannibalistic and hungry for human flesh. Some people say if you go close enough to the Wasteland, you could hear their groans and moans echoing through the air. Nobody knows exactly how many of them are out there, but it’s widely believed that their numbers are in the thousands, if not more. Anyone who ventures into the Wasteland does it at their own peril. Only idiots with a death wish dare to go out there. Not even the government goes out there.
”Wait!” He stopped abruptly but didn’t turn around. “What… what do I do?”
“Don’t let your precious Saviours find you,” he said, before starting to walk again.
“Wait!” I called out again.
“What?” he grumbled; his tone impatient.
“I...How do I do that?” I ask feeling lost and alone.
“Figure it out.”
I jogged, trying to match his brisk pace, but it was like trying to catch a gust of wind. He seemed to effortlessly glide down the hill, his movements fluid and graceful, while I stumbled and tripped over every bump and rock in my path.
“What if I can find the flash drive? I know my aunt, if the flash drive was that important, she would have hidden it somewhere no one would be able to find.”
“Including you.”
“Well…” I bite down on my lip.
“That’s what I thought.”
“But I’m pretty sure I could figure it out. My Aunt was so deep into her conspiracy theories that she probably hid it in some secret, off-the-grid location. I can help you.”
“I work alone.”
“I know my aunt. You need me.”
“I don’t need anyone.”
“When I was a kid, one of my favourite games was scavenger hunting.”
“Good for you.”
“My Aunt would have left clues, knowing I would figure it out.”
“You’re assuming she did.”
“I know she did.”
This got his attention; he halts in his tracks at the bottom of the hill.
“You’re gonna need me if you have any luck in finding it.” I pant for breath as he stood there like the Greek god terminator he was.
He hesitates, and I hold my breath, praying he says yes. If not, I’m screwed. I chuckle dryly in my head, finding the situation oddly amusing. If anyone had told me that I would be begging an infected with a serious case of “grumpy face” to let me help him, I would have said they were crazier than a honey badger on a caffeine high. But here I was, ready to team up with Mr Moody-infecto-hottie.
“You do as I say and no talkin’.” He relents begrudgingly.
“Got it. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. Not a single word, I swear. One time, I went a whole day without talking because I had a sore throat. My dad would write me secret messages on his special notepad. It was so exciting, like being a spy on a top-secret mission—”
“You’re talkin’,” he grumbles.
“Right. Sorry.”
Chapter 5: Indestructible.
I never regret wearing shorts and a tank in the summer more than I do today. The mosquitoes were feasting on me like I was their own personal buffet. They were going at me like I was the last chicken wing on the 4th of July, leaving me feeling more like a snack than a human being. I’m pretty sure I saw them high-fiving each other as they took turns taking bites out of me as if I was the main course. I couldn’t see a thing, stumbling around blindly like a drunk at a carnival game. The only light was the moon, peeking through the trees like a shy kid at a dance.
“Are we there yet?” I whined, my voice high-pitched and annoying even to my own ears. “I can’t feel my legs and I’m pretty sure I’m a mosquito’s happy meal.” I stumbled behind him like a drunken toddler, tripping over every rock and twig in sight.
Meanwhile, he was strolling ahead like he was on a casual midnight walk in the park, not a care in the world.
“Hello?” I shouted after him, hoping he hadn’t abandoned me for the mosquitoes to finish off. “I know you can hear me, you heartless hiking machine!”
But he just kept walking, like he was immune to my whining and completely impervious to the mosquitoes. Maybe infected’s were impervious to insect bites and whining.
“Keep walkin’,” he said in his usual dry tone.
“Are you kidding me?” I smacked a mosquito feasting on my neck, feeling the disgusting squish of my own blood. “I feel like a walking blood bank. This is not how I imagined dying.”
“We’re almost there,” he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.
“You said that already,” I groaned, swatting at the buzzing pests around my face. “And not all of us have built-in night version.”
“Maybe if you talk less and walk more, we’d get there faster,” he grumbled, quickening his pace.
“Excuse me for not being a seven-foot-tall giant with gazelle-like legs,” I shot back, smacking my arm and killing another swarm of mosquitoes. “I don’t even think I have enough blood to make it that far. And where are we going anyway?”
“Are all females this dramatic or are you a special case?”
“Are all infected—”
He growls dangerously. I swallow— hard. Right sen-si-tive. “Are we there yet?”
“No.”
“Are you sure we’re not lost?” He growled, obviously fed up with my constant questions.”How come you’re not tired? Don’t you get tired? And why aren’t the mosquitoes biting you? You clearly have more blood to spare than I do.”
“Do you understand the concept of no talkin’?” he gritted.
“You don’t talk a lot, do you?”
“You talk enough for the both of us,” he snaps.
I ignore his rudeness because the lord knows I was two seconds away from strangling him with my own shoelaces. “What’s your name?”
“What, infected is not workin’ out for you?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m Bellamy.”
“Don’t remember askin’.”
“Alright if you are not going to tell me your name then I’ll just have to guess.” He cursed under his breath and picked up his pace. “Jack? Harry? Peter? Brett? Emmett? Tristan? William? Wait is any of that Scottish? Oh, I know Duncan, Hamish, Logan—”
“Bloody hell, if I tell you my name, would you stop talkin’?” he growls pulling at his hair.
“Yep.” I stumble over a protruding root, nearly face-planting for what feels like the hundredth time, but manage to catch myself.
“Ivor.”
“Ivor?”
“Shocked, again.”
“I’m not,” I scoff. Not like I knew what I expected his name to be.
“Tell that to your face.”
“You’re not even looking at my face,” I snorted. “Ivor is actually a nice name,” I mutter, caught off guard by my own admission. “I never met an Ivor. You do look like an Ivor.”
He grunts. “What does an Ivor look like?”
“Short-tempered and you,” I giggle, not paying attention to where I was going— not like I could see— my feet get tangled, and I stumble, falling face forward with a loud thud.
Ow!
Ivor continued walking without even glancing back at me. I dust myself off and shout after him, “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine!”
He finally stops and turns around. “You are the epitome of clumsiness, aren’t you?”
“Walking gracefully in the dark is overrated. It takes true aptitude to trip and fall the way I do. What with no light and all.”
“Aye, you do have a talent for it,” he says, my sarcasm going over his head as he continued walking.
“So how long have you been an… you know the ’I’ word which we shall not speak?”
He came to an abrupt stop, and whirled around, causing me to stumble to a halt as well.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation,” he snarled. I flinch at his harsh tone. “Do you seriously think for one second that I give a damn if you live or die? Or did you think that I had miraculously transformed into some kind of saint after saving you? That I wouldn’t take pleasure in seeing you on your knees, beggin’ me for mercy before I finish you off? If you don’t want to find out just how dark and twisted, I can get, then do us both a favour and shut the fuck up before I make you regret ever opening that big mouth of yours.”
My heart dropped into my stomach as his words hit me like a sledgehammer. I stood there frozen, feeling the weight of my mistake crushing down on me. This was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have come here with him. Panic gripped me, and I couldn’t move, couldn’t think straight. His body tensed in the pale moonlight. I knew I had pushed him too far, and I was about to pay for it.
“Please, let me go. I won’t—”
“Quiet,” he whispers as he sniffed the air and scanned the surrounding woods with sharp eyes. It was as if he was a predator, ready to pounce at any moment. “They found us.”
The silence of the woods was shattered by the distant barks of dogs, and the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.
“You need to hide.”
“Where do I hide?”
“In the bush and try not to talk it to death.”
“Hilarious,” I said sarcastically.
“Stay silent and don’t move a muscle.”
“Where are you going?” I whispered loudly.
“To find them before they find us,” he replied, his tone carrying a sense of urgency.
“And what are you going to do?” I blurted out, my voice betraying my conflicted emotions. Deep down, I couldn’t shake the weight of the fact that we were talking about hurting fellow humans.
Humans that are currently hunting us down.
“Do I need to explain that to you?” he said, turning back to look at me.
“What if there are too many of them?” He grumbles in reply and continues walking, ignoring me. “Wait!” I whispered urgently.
“What now?” he asked, annoyance creeping into his tone.
“Be careful,” I said, surprising even myself with my concern. He did a double-take as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard either.
“Just stay out of sight,” he orders before disappearing into the shadows.
I crouched in the bush, my heart pounding in my chest. In the distance, I could hear the sharp barking of dogs, the crackling of gunshots, and voices shouting frantically. My trembling hands searched the ground desperately, desperately seeking anything that could serve as a means of defence. And there it was—a rough, jagged rock. It was far from ideal, but it was better than nothing.
Amid the unfolding chaos, I remained hidden, my breath held captive within my chest. The undeniable truth loomed over me, casting its long shadow—what Ivor was about to do. I understood, deep down, that his actions were driven by the need to protect us, to keep us safe. Yet, a stubborn part of me resisted, unable to fully accept the gravity of it all. My conscience wrestled within me, twisting my stomach into knots that tightened with each passing moment.
Am I now a betrayer of my own kind?
A traitor to the human race?
The irony of it all was not lost on me. In this tangled web of survival, I questioned my allegiance, wondering if my actions would etch my name in the annals of treachery. Here I was, caught between the fleeting notions of loyalty and the undeniable urge to stay alive. I know what my aunt would say. ‘Bellamy Winters you’re as blind as a bat in broad daylight, knowing the truth clear as day, but choosing to dance around it like a cat on a hot tin roof.’
Did I, really? Know the truth.
The better question is, where does my loyalty truly lie? With the very monsters I’ve spent half of my life fearing, or with the people who should have been my protectors but now pursue me like a common criminal? The lines blur, and my thoughts become entangled in a web of confusion. I’m as lost as a goose in a hailstorm, all tangled up in a mess of thoughts and feeling as mixed up as a plate of jambalaya.
After what felt like an eternity, the commotion died down, replaced only by the distant chirping of crickets. I cautiously stuck my head out of the bush and squinted my eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of anything in the darkness, my senses on high alert. I crawl out and keep my eyes peeled for any signs of danger.
Slowly, I got to my feet, my hand still tightly clutching the rock, as my eyes scanned the surroundings. I took a wary step forward, my senses on overdrive, trying to make out any shapes or movements in the darkness.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves for the possibility that it was the Saviours who show up instead. The sound of twigs snapping behind me caught me off guard. I yelp, spinning around and threw my rock.
“What the fu…” The rock bounces off his chest, as he stumbles out of the bushes, his hand clutching his left side.
“Sorry.” I wince.
“A rock?” he asks incredulously.
“Well, it’s better than nothing.”
“They have guns.”
“What did you expect me to do, run?”
For a split second, a flicker of surprise crosses his face, caught off guard by my unexpected response. He promptly regains composure, masking his true emotions behind a facade of indifference as he limps past me grumbling who knows what.
“Hey… are you alright?” I asked, worriedly, surprising myself once again.
“Aye,” he grumbled, wincing in pain.
“Are you sure? You don’t look that good.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Um, are they all, you know… dead?” I ask nervously. “What did you do? You didn’t kill them all did you?” I cringed at my own question.
“I gave them a stern talking-to and they decided to drop dead on their own,” he replied his tone dripping with sarcasm.
I frown at his response. “ You could just say you don’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You know it’s not healthy to keep things bottled up inside. My aunt used to say keeping all those emotions pent up inside is like tryin’ to contain a wild stallion in a cramped stable. It’s gonna buck and kick until it breaks free. But when we let it out, it’s like lettin’ that stallion roam the open range, and things start to make more sense. You can find some peace and some clarity. I’m not saying you have to open up and spill your guts or anything, I’m just saying—”
With a sudden halt, he swiftly spins around, emitting a menacing growl that sends a shiver down my spine, causing me to jump back in sheer fright. I put my hands up in defence mode, “You don’t want to talk about it, got it.”
After observing him for a few minutes, limping and groaning in discomfort, I finally muster up the courage to ask, “Are you sure that you’re alright? We can take a break.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve been shot today,” he grunts.
I knew what he meant. He was the reason I was still alive. The bullets that were meant for me had to go through him first. And from what I saw in the cave, it was a few. How he was still standing or even alive after that is astonishing. I guess for once the rumours were right, the infected were indestructible.
“How do you think they found us so fast?”
“Satellite surveillance, traffic cameras. Those fuckers are resourceful.”
“Do you think… we’re safe? Can we outrun them?”
“Aye, we need to stay off the grid.”
Here I was in a pickle. Do I feel sympathy or guilt for those who are hell-bent on ending my existence, even after what those bastards did to me and my aunt? Or do I trust the very monster-beast I had come to fear over the years, the very man who’s risked his own hide to save mine, and took bullets for me?
Infected were monsters lacking compassion or mercy. They were savage beasts with an insatiable hunger, driven only by their primal instincts. Taking bullets for me and tending to my wounds sure doesn’t scream “lacking humanity.” Or maybe it’s just a clever disguise, trying to lure me into dropping my guard? Those sceptical thoughts start creeping in, whispering doubts into my mind. I shake my head, dismissing them.
Overthinking won’t get me anywhere. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for now and stay vigilant, keeping my wits about me. After all, assuming the worst in everyone can drive a person downright batty. Even if he’s an infected. I laugh dryly amused in my head, oh how the mighty has fallen.
“Ivor?”
“Hmm?”
“Um… Thank you.”
He grunted in reply and kept walking.
Chapter 6: Cabin Retreat.
When we emerged from the woods, we trudged along for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, we stumbled upon a weather-worn sign that read, “Greenline Creek.” The main cabin stood before us, boarded up and abandoned for decades. It looked like a place straight out of a horror movie, complete with creaky doors and rusty windows that rattled in the slightest breeze. This place gives me the heebie-jeebies just looking at it. This is the place serial killers go to hide.
“It’s abandoned.” I stared up at the old decrepit cabin.
“Nothing gets by you.”
“Oh, is this where you’ve planned to do the honours?” I joked, a nervous chuckle escaping my lips. “You know, bury my body in the basement?”
“Hmm, I haven’t decided yet,” he replied nonchalantly.
Even when injured he’s still faster than me.
“Can you decide quickly? I have plans for the weekend.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re joking right?” He didn’t answer, just continued limping. “Ivor?”
He’s joking, he has to.
I hope.
“I thought we were going to the Wasteland,” I asked, grimacing at the dilapidated cabin we were standing in front of. “Is this place even safe? With our luck, it gets us before the Saviours do. I can see the headlines now!” I exclaimed dramatically. “Murdered by cabin!” I giggle. “The Saviours would be so jealous. We’d become instant legends.”
He looked up at the sky and sighed. “Is this my punishment?”
“And you say I’m dramatic,” I mumbled.
He ripped the lock off the door with his bare hand like it was a flimsy piece of paper. He opened the door and sniffed the air like a bloodhound before stepping inside and started searching through the cupboards.
“Breaking and entering and robbing the place. Don’t you think it’s a little late for that? Why are we even here anyway?” I cringed at the stale musty air that assaults my nostrils as I stepped inside the dark creepy cabin.
“I need to heal,” he replied bluntly.
“And robbing this place is your chosen path to inner peace? Are you expecting to stumble upon a magic wand or perhaps the legendary tree of life?”
“I need a quiet place to rest and gather my strength.”
“And you think that’s this place? You have a better chance of getting a skin rash or Pneumonia.”
“If you don’t want to end up like those idiots in the woods, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way,” he snaps, pulling out a box from under the counter.
“You know you don’t have to be a jerk all the time,” I muttered under my breath before storming out of the cabin.
I plopped down on the rickety old steps, feeling the grit and grime sticking to my skin. I rested my head on the intact railing and hugged myself tightly. Despite everything that had happened, it was a beautiful night. A tear slipped down my cheek as I thought about my aunt. She deserved so much more than this.
I remember when she decided to teach me how to make her famous peach cobbler pie. A secret family recipe handed down for generations. With freshly picked peaches and a secret family recipe in hand, we created the most scrumptious pie the world has ever seen. That pie was a true masterpiece, with a golden crust promising a slice of pure mouthwatering goodness. We left the pie on the windowsill to cool for after dinner.
But imagine our shock, when we returned to the kitchen only to find the pie had vanished.
Gone!
Stolen away by that sneaky raccoon. That critter snatched the entire pie, leaving behind nothing but a trail of crumbs.
That night, we transformed the backyard into a pie stakeout. Armed with camping gear, flashlights, and a jar of honey. We never got the pie back but that was one hell of a night. One I would never forget.
“Rest in peace, Aunt Grace. I love you,” I whispered to the night sky.
My eyes fluttered open, and I felt a sensation of weightlessness as if my body were floating on a gentle current. Gradually, I felt myself coming to rest on a bumpy but soft surface. I was on an old cot surrounded by the soft glow of candles, casting flickering shadows across the walls. In the light, the place didn’t look half bad. The wallpaper was still intact, adding a touch of nostalgic charm, despite everything else being mostly covered in dust. And it still smells. I sat up slowly, across from me, Ivor sat in a chair, his foot resting on a battered old coffee table.
The soft glow of the candles flickered across his handsome features, casting his face in shadow and light.
His hair was a tousled mess, sticking up in all directions as if he had been running his hands through it repeatedly. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, evidence of sleepless nights and countless battles. His skin looked pale and drawn, and he seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. In spite of his dishevelled appearance, he still emanated a sense of power and danger, like a coiled snake ready to strike at any moment. And looks good, a lot better than me that’s for sure. In spite of the dimness of the room, I could see the glint in his eyes as he watched me.
“Are you going to kill me in my sleep?” I yawn.
“You’re still alive aren’t you.”
“Are you a rapist?”
Why go give him ideas? I mentally face-palm myself.
“If I wanted to rape you, why would I wait until you fall asleep?”
“I don’t know maybe you’re kinky that way.”
“Paraphilia is not my kink.”
“It has a name?”
”You know, for a bonnie lass, your mouth is the size of a continent. Do you ever give it a rest?” His voice was low, but not as cold and harsh as usual.
I’m pretty sure he called me beautiful. I think.
“I did.”
My face flushes with embarrassment. “I said that out loud?”
“Aye.” His intense gaze bore into mine like he was trying to read my mind.
The silence between us stretched out, making me feel uneasy. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, his eyes searching mine for something. I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, unsure of what to do or say.
Finally, he broke the silence. “You’re different,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I simply stayed quiet and waited for him to continue. “You’re not like the others. Most lass in your position would have run for the hills.”
Ha! Little does he know that if he had met me just a few days ago, I would have been a complete wreck, curled up in a ball, sobbing like a newborn. The infected were the embodiment of modern-day boogeymen. It took sheer ignorance or stupidity not to be terrified of them. Towering at around seven feet tall, with razor-sharp claws and fangs. They could tear a man in half effortlessly, they were the stuff of nightmares. But he doesn’t need to know any of that.
I shrug. “The night is not over yet.”
His lips twitch at the corner, he drops his gaze. Wait, is he holding back a smile? I rub my eyes; I must be seeking things.
“You’re a brave lass.”
“I probably hit my head,” I said half-jokingly.
“Probably.” He leaned in closer to me, his presence enveloping my senses, and in his hand, he held a gauze wrap. Only then did I notice the first aid box on the table, beside him. His gaze fixed on my injured hand, he gestured towards it.
A breath escaped my lips, almost catching in my throat, as I surrendered my small hand into his strong grasp. As our skin touched, a delicate current danced up my arm, sending shivers down my spine. If he felt it, he didn’t say anything but judging from the tightening of his jaw he felt something. Time seemed to slow down as I watched him gently unravel the cotton material from my hand. To say I was surprised by his gentleness was the understatement of the century. He was a giant and an infected, who knew he could be so… tender. I watch as he re-wraps my hand like he had done this a hundred times.
“Okay, who are you and what did you do with Ivor,” I joke. He smirks and I swear somewhere down south stuff was happening. I clear my throat, and quickly added, “Where did you learn to do this?”
“My brother and I use to get into a lot of trouble growin’ up.” I nod understanding. That was the first real thing he ever told me.
“Where is he now?”
“The Wasteland,” he said curtly and releases my hand. “Go to sleep.”
There is the Ivor I know, Mr. Grumpy-face.
“Ivor?” I called out softly as I lay back down.
“Hmm?” He sounded tired and slightly annoyed as he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.
“Thank you for not murdering me.”
“The night is not over yet.”
I didn’t know if he was joking or not but if he wanted me dead, he had plenty of opportunities.
I woke up to the sun boring through the gaps of the boarded-up window. Did he leave me here? I quickly did a double scan around the room, looking for any sign of him.
Why that—
Suddenly, the sound of the creaking door draws my attention. I spin around to see Ivor filling the entire doorway. He was built like a house. His shoulders were as wide as the doorway with big powerful biceps that could crush me like a bug.
Damn, I forgot how big he is.
I wonder what else is big.
What no! I quickly shake those thoughts away.
He looks different today; no longer pale and haggard, and his copper red hair appears to be combed back by his fingers but combed nonetheless. The dark circles that once shrouded his eyes are gone, making him look surprisingly normal. As he stood there in the doorway, I couldn’t help but notice his new white T-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, stretching to its limits. There was no sign of blood or bullet holes, and his toned physique was on full display. Each defined muscle was visible through the fabric, from his thick pecs to his chiselled abs. It was as if the clothes were struggling to contain him, and the sight was exhilarating.
I’m going to hell.
“Are you going to just sit there?” he scowls.
“Well, good morning to you too.”
He’s an infected Bellamy. Not a real man.
Oh, he is all man. I groan inwardly.
He arches a brow at me. “It’s noon.”
“Well, good afternoon.”
He grumbles something under his breath and leaves. Even his limp was gone.
Indestructible.
I quickly slid out of the bed and followed. He was already in the driver’s side of a black SUV.
“Where did you get this?”
“Are you getting in or not?”
“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the chair.”
I’m pretty sure he stole it. Needless to say, I got into the stolen vehicle. One more thing to add to my rap sheet.
If my parents could see me now.
“You’re going the wrong way,” I noted when he turned right instead of left. The Wastelands are in the opposite direction. If there is anything I know, I know where all the Wastelands are located to ensure I never end up there.
The irony is real.
“We aren’t going to the Wasteland.”
“Where are we going then?”
“Your aunt’s house.”
“Isn’t that a bit risky? Wouldn’t they be expecting us? The last time it didn’t go so well.” I grimace, feeling my heart clench hard in my chest.
“They’re expecting us to head straight for the Wasteland. Most of those roads would be heavily watched.”
“Who’s to say the house isn’t heavily watched?”
“I can handle a patrol car or two,” he snorts, sounding insulted.
“They would have already searched the house. Anything of value would be gone.”
“If your aunt was as paranoid as you say she was, she wouldn’t have vital information just lying about. It would be a good time to see just how useful you are and how well you know your aunt.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I rolled my eyes. I noticed his grip tight on the steering wheel. “My aunt mentioned needing to grab something from her office. Did she actually make it to the office?”
“Aye,” he confirmed. “It was a black backpack.”
“My disappointment evident, I sighed and said, “No doubt the Saviours took it.”
After a minute or two he adds, “It looked like she was headin’ up the stairs when she spotted me.”
“Huh,” I replied, pondering the possibility that the Saviours might have overlooked something. “Do you think there’s a chance they missed something?”
“It’s possible. Was there a safe or anything?”
“In her office. It had her prize possessions.” I replied with a smile, reminiscing about that elusive raccoon. “Her treasured recipes. No doubt the Saviours found it. Not like they deserved it,” I grumbled, a touch of resentment creeping into my voice “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look. Who knows, there might be a slight chance that they overlooked something. Something that could help us.”
“Aye,” he said taking the wrong exit.
“That’s not the right exit.”
“We’re making a pit stop.”
Chapter 7: Moment of Clarity.
When he said we had to make a pit stop I was expecting a truck stop not a rundown-looking gas station in the middle of nowhere. The once-bright red and white colour scheme was now a drab and weathered combination of beige and rust. The windows were covered in a thick layer of grime and dirt, obscuring the view of the interior. The old gas pumps out front were covered in graffiti, rusted and appeared to be long out of commission. We parked the car on the cracked pavement, the sound of broken glass crunching under our feet as we got out.
“You seriously have a thing for creepy abandoned places, don’t you?”
“Number four.”
“What?”
“The only workin’ pump.”
“Wait where are you going?”
“To pay.”
“You mean this place is still operational?” I eyed the pumps sceptically.
“Bloody hell, just get the gas!”
I roll my eyes. He clenched his fist but said nothing as he walked away. Did I mention how good he looks from the back? Honestly, he could make a potato sack look good. I quickly facepalm myself.
Bell, pull yourself together, girl! Quit drooling over him like a lovesick puppy. I mean, sure, it’s been a hot minute since I had a good romp in the hay. A year or two, maybe three tops. But that doesn’t turn me into some kind of scandalous hussy. I got dignity, damn it!
Well, at least you like to think so, right?
I grabbed the pump and lifted it from the holder, I couldn’t help but notice how old and worn it looked. Rust had formed in spots and the nozzle was caked with grime. I hesitated for a moment before placing it into the tank, trying my best not to touch any of the dirty surfaces more than I had to. The smell of gasoline filled my nostrils, and I wrinkled my nose.
Gross.
Just then, a pick-up truck pulled up with its massive rims, kicking up a cloud of dust. Two heavily tattooed and pierced infected stepped out of the truck, their eyes wild with hunger as they stared at me unapologetically. I swallow— hard.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” The driver flashes me his pearly white fangs.
His pitch-black eyes roamed over me like a starved predator, lingering on my exposed thighs and chest for far too long. The other guy leered at me with a sickening grin. A chill ran down my spine, and I couldn’t wait to finish fueling up and get out of here.
I try to ignore the driver’s creepy stare and focus on filling up the gas tank. But then, he got too close for comfort. I take a step back, nearly tripping over my own feet.
They laugh.
Bastards.
“You scared little girl?” the driver taunts.
I straighten up and glare at him. “No, I’m not scared.” Like hell, I wasn’t. I was scarier than a bird in a thunderstorm.
The driver’s smile grew into a full-on grin. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“It’s not safe in these parts, you never know what might happen to a pretty little thing like you,” said his friend.
I take a step back, keeping the gas pump between us. “I can take care of myself.”
The driver chuckles. “Is that so? Well, maybe we’ll just have to test that theory.”
Before he can take another step, Ivor appears from out of nowhere and blocks his path. I was never happier to see that hulk of a log than I was now.
The driver looks him up and down, sizing him up. “Who the hell are you?”
“Trust me ten minutes with her and you’ll beg me to take her back.”
I glared at him. Jerk.
The driver shifts his gaze to me, eyes lingering on my mouth and hips making my skin crawl. Unconsciously I moved closer to Ivor.
“I think I’ll just keep her.” He shifts to the side to walk past Ivor, but Ivor steps in his way.
“Can’t let you do that mate.”
“Wasn’t askin’ Mate.” He laughs. He goes to pass Ivor again and he stepped in his way once more.
“I don’t think you heard me,” Ivor said, his patience wearing thin, claws elongating.
“Oh, I heard you,” the driver retorted flashing his deadly fangs, stepping up to him until they were toe to toe, each looking menacingly at the other. Each over seven feet tall and built like a house.
“You don’t want to do this,” Ivor said coolly.
“And why wouldn’t I?”
Ivor hands me the bag he had in his hand, and before I could even blink, he turned around and delivered a solid blow to the man’s gut, leaving him winded. Then, with lightning speed, Ivor followed up with a knee to the face, breaking his nose, blood gushing down his face. The man stumbled back, clutching his broken nose, while his friend wisely took a step back, raising his hands in a defensive mode.
“What the hell are you doing just standing there?” the man growled at his friend. “Get him!”
”That’s Sever, man,” he said so low I barely heard him.
A glimpse of fear and recognition flickered across his face as he snaps his nose back into place. To my surprise, his nose had already healed.
“I don’t want any trouble,” the driver said backing up slowly. “You can keep the girl.”
They quickly got back into their truck and left. Ivor removed the nozzle and shut the gas tank as I stood there in shock, not sure what I witnessed. Infected aren’t afraid of anyone.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
Honestly, I was a bit terrified to sass him, so I decided to see what he snagged. Two bottles of water, chips, peanuts and beef jerky.
Nutritious.
Of course, I check for the expiration date.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said.
From the surprised look on his face even he didn’t expect himself to say that.
“I’m not scared of you.”
His eyes drop to my mouth momentarily before turning to go to the truck. His fists clench by his side. “You need to learn to lie better than that.”
“Well, maybe you need to work on your people reading skills. Because I’m not lying.” I lied again. I cringe inwardly.
He turns around scowling at me. “I don’t need to work on anythin’. You reek of it.”
Reek? I had on deodorant. I did a quick pit check as soon as his back was turned.
“That’s no’ the scent he was referrin’ to, lassie,” chuckles an old man with a deep Scottish brogue. His craggy face lights up with a smile as he catches sight of us, with a paper bag in his hand. My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I’m caught pit-checking. “If you dinnae mind, when you see ma lad, could you pass this to him?” He hands the bag to Ivor.
Ivor nods in agreement, a fleeting look of guilt crossing his face, or maybe I imagine it. “Aye, don’t forget—”
“Call the hoose if I need onythin’. I ken,” the old man interrupts with a chuckle. “But as you can see, I’m daein’ fine. Who’s this? Is she your—”
“No,” Ivor interrupts before the old man can finish his sentence. His face falls slightly, and he frowns. “Oh, that’s a shame. Hello, dear. I’m Frasier.” He extends a gnarled hand, and I take it, feeling the warmth of his skin despite his frail appearance.
“Bellamy,” I reply with a smile.
“Nice to meet you, Bellamy. Any friend o’ Sever is welcome here anytime.” The old man gives me a warm smile before patting Ivor on the shoulder and heading back inside.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was like witnessing a unicorn playing poker with a leprechaun. Normally, humans and infected have about as much chance of having a friendly chat as a cat does of becoming a professional pianist. I was fully prepared for Ivor to unleash his inner RAWR and start munching on the old man’s noggin. Did Frasier not realize what Ivor was? I mean, come on, the guy looks like he bench-presses tanks for breakfast and has eyes as black as the deepest corners of the universe.
“Sever?” I tilt my head to the side, curious.
“Nickname,” he replies, opening the car door for me.
“What on earth did you do to earn a name like that?” I can’t help but wonder, not like I couldn’t guess.
“Got it in the military.”
“You were in the military?”
“Ah, there’s that face again.” He starts the car’s engine.
“Well, you just don’t strike me as the typical military type,” I shrug.
“You don’t know me,” he retorts.
“Fair enough. Then tell me about yourself.”
“Don’t confuse my generosity for cordiality. We’re not mates, companions, associates, or whatever else you may be conjurin’ up in that wee head of yours.”
“Ouch. And here I thought we were starting to become friends.”
He laughs darkly. “You want to be friends with an infected?” he mocks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “A brute incapable of coherent speech, lacking reason, humanity and pisses on the furniture. Did I get that right?”
I stuff a handful of chips into my mouth. Yep, or as he would say, aye. Okay fine, maybe I was wrong. But I was not the only one harbouring such thoughts. The news outlets and the government had consistently painted a picture of the infected as nothing more than savage, bestial creatures. There was no mention of any possibility that they could reclaim their humanity or exhibit civilized behaviour. That information was completely disregarded or suppressed. Not like anyone would dare to go beyond the secure walls of the city to find the truth.
“I have a question,” I interject, breaking the silence.
“Why am I not surprised,” he retorts dryly.
“I thought in—people like you, weren’t allowed out of the Wasteland because of the treaty?”
“Treaty,” he grunts, his voice laced with bitterness. “What that so-called ‘treaty’ really was, is the systematic deprivation of our basic rights. Givin’ those fuckin’ diddy’s the opportunity to cut off our water and heat. They abandoned us, hopin’ the harsh winters would do their dirty work for them.”
The Wasteland was a lawless, deserted region of the country where the infected roam freely. It was easy to assume they had access to necessities like electricity, heating and running water. Not like it would matter if they did or didn’t, because we all thought after the transformation that they had forgotten simple tasks like drinking water from a glass or operating a light switch. I thought I knew what the infected were, but now I’m not sure anymore.
“I didn’t know that,” I admit a touch of regret in my voice.
“That’s how they wanted it. To keep us isolated, cast aside and forgotten.”
“Then why sign the treaty?”
“Freedom,” he declared. “And to answer your question, they were smugglers.”
“Smugglers?”
The mere thought sends chills racing down my spine, like icy tendrils of dread snaking their way through my veins. They were wicked, heartless monsters who kidnapped humans and treated them as nothing more than commodities. They auctioned off their captives like livestock, mere objects to be bought and sold for their twisted pleasure.
“That was banned when we signed the treaty.”
“Do they know that?” I said unable to hide my disgust.
“Most of them do,” he replies solemnly. “Their focus is more on spare parts, tools, food, seeds, clothes—necessities, anythin’ they can get their hands on.”
“Innocent young women,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “I didn’t mean—”
“You did. Some still do, but that is bein’ handled.”
“Handled?”
“Aye, Prime.”
“Wait Apex Prime the radical group? They are dealing with the smugglers?”
“Not all infected are the same. Some want a better future, where we’re not hunted down like rabid animals or treated like bloodthirsty monsters. We’ve come a long way from those dark days. Prime is at the forefront, ensuring those days never return.”
Apex Prime was a notorious faction, labelled as a heartless and ruthless extremist group known for killing innocent civilians in cold blood, brazenly abducting women from the streets, and pillaging small towns near the Wastelands. Anyone associated with Prime was deemed a traitor and branded as enemies of the state. They were subject to the full force of the law. Law enforcement agencies were actively pursuing and apprehending anyone suspected of being involved with Prime, bringing them to justice for their crimes against humanity and society.
This was a real head-scratcher. Like I was living in an alternate universe, where the good guys were the bad guys and the bad guys were the good guys. Ivor had no reason to lie to me.
“All those things in the news, those disappearances. If it wasn’t Prime, then who?”
“I’ll give you one guess,” he replied knowingly.
It didn’t take me long to connect the dots. “The Saviours.” He nods confirming my suspicion. “Why would they do that? What could they possibly gain from all of this?” I couldn’t help the defensiveness that tinged my words.
“Why were they after your aunt? And why are they still after you?” he shot back.
My mind raced back to the conversation I had with my aunt not too long ago.
(“They think I know!”
“Know what?”
“More than I do! Turn here!”)
“Why were you at my aunt’s house?”
“We received new information suggestin’ that the head of the ViroTech Research Center lab was involved in the creation of a machine for Phoenix,” he revealed.
“My dad?” A wave of surprise washed over me, and my brows furrowed in confusion. “ He was working on a cure for Alzheimer’s.”
“A radio frequency machine treatment for Alzheimer’s.”
“Why would Phoenix have any interest in a radio frequency machine for Alzheimer’s?”
“I was hopin’ your aunt could answer that. But it seemed like she didn’t know much about what your father was involved in,” he admitted.
“You think he knew something?” I inquired, a mixture of anticipation and fear in my voice.
He paused for a moment; his expression sombre. “I think your aunt was right. No one suddenly sells their house, resigns from their job, and packs up their family to flee the continent if they didn’t know something.”
The weight of his words settled heavily upon me, and I struggled to face the truth that I had been blinded to see.”So, my parents...” I trailed off, unable to bring myself to say the words out loud.”Were...?”
“The fire, the accidents… it sounds like Phoenix was cleaning house, lass.”
The room seemed to close in around me as my chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. The truth, once obscured, was now painfully clear. My aunt had been right all along. That’s why they were after her, after us…I finally understood the gravity of the situation and the sinister lengths to which the Saviour would go to protect their secrets.
Chapter 8: The Plan.
As we approached the house, my heart sank at the sight of two patrol cars parked outside. Two more were stationed a block away, and a white cleaning van parked in the opposite direction.
They couldn’t be more obvious if they tried.
Meanwhile, the entire property was cordoned off with yellow hazard tape and a large red ‘X’ spray painted on the door.
This can only mean one thing: “infected.” That explains the moving truck parked next door, and why everyone was deliberately choosing to cross the street instead of walking by our house. You would think our house was the black plague. To add insult to injury, some people even had the audacity to take pictures of our home. The nerve of those people is beyond comprehension, snapping pictures like a bunch of no-good varmints. I was two seconds away from giving them a piece of my mind.
We’ve been parked in the car a few blocks away from the house for the past hour, racking our brains to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve any crazy shootouts or getting ourselves killed. Ivor has been uncharacteristically silent. I caught him glancing at the paper bag in the back seat from Frazier a couple of times. I can’t help but take a peek at that bag myself and wonder what was in it.
Mm…
“Oh look, is that the Saviors?” I feign a gasp of shock.
“Mm-hmm,” he replied absentmindedly.
“Hey, is that a unicorn riding a hippo?”
“Aye,” he says, still lost in thought.
“Okay, what gives? You haven’t insulted or threatened me in the last hour or tried to fling me out of the car. Does this silent grumpy-pants mood have anything to do with Frasier or that bag?”
“None of your business,” he snapped, annoyance clear in his tone.
Something was obviously bothering him.
“Woah, no need to bite my head off. I was just asking.”
“Then don’t,” he scowls. “We aren’t—”
“I know, I know, we aren’t friends. No need to keep hammering that point home. So, what’s the plan? I can’t see a way out of this that doesn’t end with us staring down the barrel of a gun or getting locked up in the clink.” He took another glance at the bag in the backseat and started the engine. “Where are we going?” I hastily fastened my seatbelt.
“The house,” he replied curtly.
“But what about the patrol cars? And the plan?”
“Don’t worry about the cars. Just get to the house.”
“And the plan? We can’t just drive up to the house and hope they don’t see us. Unless that’s the plan, we get out of the car waving our hands and shouting,’ Here we are, come and get us!’“
He puts me out a few blocks and tells me to run before ramming the stolen SUV into the van creating a diversion that got the attention of all the other patrol cars. It was the stupidest plan ever, but it was the only one we had.
While he was out there distracting them, I scrambled up the trellis and into my aunt’s bedroom window. My aunt’s room was in complete disarray as if a tornado had blown through it. Drawers were pulled out, clothes were scattered everywhere, and the mattress was flipped over. Despite knowing that my aunt was not a neat freak by any means, seeing her personal space in such a state of turmoil was a painful sight.
Those bastards!
After a quick outfit change into my ripped jeans and an old Tee I had left behind, I hastily rummaged through the bedrooms, bathroom, and attic, hoping to stumble upon any trace of the flash drive. It was enough to make me madder than a hornet in a soda can. And knowing those low-life scumbags had already scoured through those same areas, made it look like they had already found it. But I know my aunt wouldn’t make it that easy. There has to be a reason why she came up here…
Think Bellamy, think… put that brilliant mind of yours to work!
If I were a sneaky little flash drive, where would I hide? Hmm, let’s see... Maybe I’d disguise myself as a potted plant, blending in with all the other leafy green fellows in the room. I stared at the dead plant on the corner table.
Nope.
Maybe… disguised in a book, cunningly tucked away on a dusty shelf. The few books my aunt owned were all sprawled out on her bedroom floor.
Looks like those pricks had the same idea.
But that would be too obvious… How about disguising myself as a sock? Yep, a single sock, perfectly mismatched, lurking in the bottom of the laundry hamper. Who would suspect a flash drive among all those sweaty garments?
Sneaky, sneaky.
The laundry basket was empty and so was the washer and dryer.
Fiddlesticks.
My aunt is no ordinary lady. She’s a master of surprises. Maybe she hid it within a jar of pickles, right next to those crunchy dill spears. Or, she could have hidden it in a box of chocolates, carefully nestled between the delectable truffles.
I do like truffles, dark chocolate, heavy cream, powdered sugar...mmm…
Focus Bellamy! We’re looking for truffles—no, flash drive. Flash drive. Flash drive. It was a game of cat and mouse, a battle of wits between me and a tiny data-storing device. And we both knew who was winning.
“I like the strawberry shorts better,” a voice said behind me.
I let out a sharp yelp and instinctively spun around, clutching my heart. “Son of a biscuit! Someone oughta’ slap a bell around your neck. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Wait, why are you in here and not out there? Who’s distracting them? What if they come here?” I whisper-yell as I start to panic.
“Relax, we have at least ten minutes before they figure it out.”
“And a 1,200 square foot house to search for a secret flash drive,” I fling my arms in the air. “Phoenix already combed through this place with a fine-tooth comb. They even found my secret candy stash.” I couldn’t help but feel a little defeated, knowing that they had already turned the place inside out. “What’s the point? I doubt we’ll find anything,” I muttered, feeling hopeless.
“Phoenix now. Not Saviours anymore?” he mocks with a smirk.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, and a low growl emanated from his chest, catching me off guard. He closed the distance between us faster than I could blink. His massive hand firmly cupped my face tilting my head back, so our eyes connect. The scent of gasoline and his manly musky enveloped me.
“Do you know what I want to do to you every time you roll those pretty brown eyes at me?” his voice deepens into a delicious, husky rasp. I gulp and shake my head. Those few words were enough to send heat curling low in my belly. His full kissable lips stretch into an evil smirk. “Do it again and find out,” he challenges and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear before releasing me.
For some reason, I didn’t think he meant to do that. He looked just as surprised as I was.
I mean, I should have been appalled, disgusted, and maybe even outraged! But instead, my mind had wandered off, wondering what it would feel like to have those big, strong hands caressing every inch of my body—
“Whatever you’re thinkin’ I would stop,” he gritted out, fist clenched by his side.
”I wasn’t thinking anything. Were you thinking something?” I blurted out like an idiot— a guilty idiot— chewing on my bottom lip as I quickly turned my gaze away from him.
What was I thinking? He’s an infected! Get ahold of yourself, Bellamy! Don’t let your imagination run wild. Just then my eyes landed on the Newell post cap sitting on top of the stairs. When I was nine, I accidentally knocked off the left cap while playing, and my aunt never fixed it because she claimed it added character. As a result, it had always been crooked and slightly off-kilter. But as I looked closer, I noticed that something was different. The cap wasn’t crooked anymore. In fact, it was perfectly straight, sitting there as if it had never been touched. Nah… it can’t be that easy.
Can it?
I made my way over to the post and grabbed hold of the cap and twisted with all my might, but it refused to budge. It was on there tighter than my skinny jeans after a weekend of pizza and beer.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his arms folded across his chest.
I looked over my shoulder and saw him standing there, looking like a Greek god with a hint of amusement in his eyes. Why couldn’t he be a zombie? Even a receding hairline wouldn’t hurt, right? But no, he had to be tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome. And that accent wasn’t helping.
I gestured towards the cap, my frustration clear in my voice. “I’m trying to get this damn thing off, but it’s stuck tighter than bark on a tree.” I tried one more time to twist it off, grunting with effort, but it was no use. The cap remained stubbornly in place. “It’s no use. I need a crowbar or—”
Ivor placed his large hand on the cap and twisted it off with ease. A small silver object came loose, hitting the hardwood floor with a sharp clink.
A key?
I reached down and picked up the key. At first glance, it appeared to be a simple silver key, but with closer inspection, I noticed its distinct features. The head of the key is perfectly rounded with rectangular-shaped teeth arranged in a neat row. Engraved on the body of the key were lines and swirls intertwining, forming an intricate motif.
“A key?” I was somewhat disappointed when I realized it wasn’t the flash drive. “You ever seen a key like this before?” I handed Ivor the key.
“Can’t say I have,” he says, examining the key from every angle. “What do you think it goes to?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I pondered the possibilities. “I have no idea. There’s nothing in the house that I know of which would need a key like that.”
“It looks beat up,” he observed, noting the scratches on its surface and the slight bend to it.
“I bet it unlocks something important,” I said.
“Or something worth protecting. Is there a hidden or secret compartment somewhere in the house?”
“Not that I know of.”
Suddenly his body tensed as he cocked his head to the side, listening.
“What’s wrong?” I inch closer to him.
“Time to go.”
We dashed down the stairs. Ivor was ahead of me, his long legs propelling him forward like a gazelle, while I stumbled behind him like a baby giraffe.
We burst into the kitchen, and I was about to make a break for the back door when I noticed Ivor turning on all the burners on the stove.
“Oh no, you are not burning down my house,” I hissed.
“We need a distraction,” he said calmly, as if setting fire to someone’s house was the most natural thing in the world. “And your house is going to be crawlin’ with Phoenix agents any second now. If I were you, I’d start runnin’.”
“What if the flash drive is still here?”
“You said it yourself, Phoenix combed through this place and if the flash was here, they would have found it.”
“What about a secret compartment?”
“I’ll trust you on that one.”
“What if I’m wrong?”
“Too late. Run.”
“You’re despicable,” I muttered.
I turned on my heel and bolted out of the house, leaping over the neighbour’s fence and running as fast as I could. The reverberating rumble of engines grew nearer, amplifying the pounding of my own racing heart. My pulse thundered in my ear, matching the rapid rhythm of my feet pounding against the pavement. With each step, panic and terror intertwined, propelling me to the edge of the block. Breathlessly, I gazed with wide-eyed horror as the military vehicles screeched to a sudden halt, followed by Phoenix agents.
The next thing I knew, my house exploded.
My home was gone.
“No time for sightseeing, we need to keep movin’,” Ivor’s voice came from behind, startling me.
I yelp nearly jumping out of my own skin. “We seriously need to get you a bell!”
How on earth does he manage to move so quietly? He’s the size of a truck for crying out loud! If I were even half as stealthy, I’d consider a career as a ninja.
“Sorry, lass,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the nearest alleyway. “But I prefer the element of surprise.”
We raced through the narrow, garbage-strewn alley, our footsteps echoing like thunder in the empty space. I could still hear the sounds of chaos behind us, but somehow, with Ivor’s hand in mine, I felt a little bit safer and tingly. The irony wasn’t lost on me either. Me safe with an infected. Now that is crazier than a soup sandwich.
Chapter 10: A couple of sewer rats.
As we dashed through the street, the sound of doors slamming shut and windows closing echoed behind us. Not like I can blame them. I would have done the same thing a few days ago. In their eyes, a wild and untamed beast had apparently abducted an unsuspecting damsel in distress for his twisted pleasure.
“We have to get off the street,” he said urgently.
We quickly turned down an alleyway and came to a manhole.
“You can’t be serious,” I protested.
“Do you have a better idea?” he scowls, his tone impatient. “By now, everyone in Phoenix, includin’ the bloody military knows where we are.”
With no other options, we climbed down into the sewer.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I muttered, gagging with every breath at the putrid smell that hung heavy in the air.
“You want to stay alive,” he replied.
“Can I think about it?” I said nearly throwing up in my mouth.
The murky water was ankle-deep, and with every step, we stirred up a foul sludge of human waste, garbage, and who knows what else. The walls were slick with slime and grime. The thought of all the bacteria and diseases lurking in the filthy water made my skin crawl.
“I... I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” I gasped, retching with every breath. “I don’t want to die down here.”
“You’re not going to die down here.”
“Not all of us have superhuman healing abilities or survived a pandemic. And for all we know, this is how it started. Someone fell into the sewer, and before you know it, boom. Outbreak.” I shook my head, trying to clear the image of a viral outbreak spreading through the sewer system from my mind.
Think happy thoughts.
Sunny meadow. Tiramisu. Coffee cake. Spatula.
“That’s how you really think this all started? The sewer?”
Well, no, not exactly. There are hundreds of rumours and conspiracies out here about how it all started. Diseased animals. A mad scientist created the virus in his secret lab while attempting to create a new type of energy drink. Aliens brought the virus to Earth as part of an extraterrestrial experiment. That was my aunt’s favourite. A magical curse cast by a group of witches. Contaminated fast food, with infected fries and coffee being the culprits. A group of zombies escaped from a secret government research facility. My favourite— bad karaoke singing. Then you have the official statement by the CDC. A toxic spill in the water supply of a small town in Canada somewhere. A truck carrying hazardous chemicals veered off the road during a bad thunderstorm. They retrieved all of the containers; however, one had a leak. People in the town started getting sick and started attacking each other and then boom, outbreak.
“It’s better than a tone-deaf karaoke session,” I grumbled. “What do you think actually happened?”
I only now realized I had never questioned the information fed to me or given it a second thought. I had accepted what was echoed a million times on television, assuming it to be the absolute truth without delving deeper.
“What do you know about the town that initially reported the outbreak?” he questioned as we trudge through the filthy water.
“I think it was somewhere in Canada?” I shrug.
“Do you know the name or its location?” he pressed further.
“No, not specifically. But I’m sure I can dig up some articles online that must have some information about it.” It must have been somewhere on the news, and I just missed it.
He shook his head. “You won’t find anythin’. They never disclosed the whereabouts or any details because it wasn’t located in Canada.”
“Wait, if it wasn’t in Canada, then where was it?”
“You’ve heard of Area 51, right?” My head bobbed in recognition, courtesy of my aunt’s wild conspiracy theories. “Ever heard of Area 88?”
“There’s an 88?” I furrow my brows trying not to think about where we were.
He paused for a moment, building suspense. “That’s where it all started. Your father and his two assistants were the first victims. A year later, the remaining members of his team began to meet unfortunate ends in a series of mysterious accidents.”
Suddenly, my aunt’s voice echoed in my mind, recalling her words. (“Then, a year later, Lennie Snyder, one of Noah’s co-workers, sent me a letter before he hanged himself. The news said he went into depression after losin’ his job.”)
“And after those incidents, an air strike was called in, disguised as a military exercise.”
“And how would you know that?” I inquired; my voice filled with curiosity and scepticism. “About the air strike?”
He paused for a moment, his eyes distant. “A mate of mine served in the air force. It was the last message he managed to send me before...” His voice trailed off, the weight of the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. “Before he got infected and lost his life.”
“Ivor, I’m sorry—”
“I don’t need your pity,” he growled, his voice thick with emotion. “He was a brave soldier, a good man, and a devoted son.”
An awkward silence settled between us as we trudged through the murky waters. I broke the silence by asking, “What was it? Area 88. What did they destroy?”
For a second I thought he wasn’t going to answer. “That’s what we are tryin’ to figure out. So far, we can only speculate at this point. Maybe there was something they discovered in Area 88 that they didn’t want the world to know. Or an experiment went terribly wrong.”
“But how was my father and his team connected to all of this?” I protested; my voice laced with disbelief. “My father was dedicated to developing drugs to help people. He would never knowingly get involved in something like this.”
“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t… Or maybe he stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have.”
“You think Phoenix Corp is behind the A1NS outbreak, don’t you?” I questioned, my voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and doubt.
A grave expression settled on his face. “It’s certainly a possibility. They’ve emerged as the primary benefactors of this crisis. With their increasin’ control over the military, who knows what other sinister agendas they might be pursuin’.”
“But you don’t know for sure.” I insisted, with a glimmer of doubt in my voice.
He let out a bitter laugh, a dark edge seeping into his tone. Are you really defending those bloody bastards after all they’ve done?” His words carried a raw anger, fueled by years of suffering. I flinch. “While you lived comfortably under their protection for the past thirteen years, we were hunted down, treated like monsters to be exterminated. They never bothered to understand who we are or what we’ve become. All they cared about was labelin’ us and disposin’ of us like rabid dogs.”
My mind spun with the implications and information. None of it seemed to make any sense. Why would the government lie about the outbreak originating in Canada when it was right here, in our midst? What was the connection between my father and his team to this whole thing? And what dark secret was Phoenix Corp desperately trying to conceal? If they truly had a hand in orchestrating the outbreak, it meant that the stakes were higher than we could have ever imagined. It wasn’t just about uncovering the truth anymore; it was about dismantling a web of power and corruption that threatened the very fabric of society.
For however long it was, neither of us said a word. The squelching sound of my shoes sinking into the muck was the only sound between us. The stench was overpowering, making my eyes water and my nose burn.
“What was that?!” I let out a high-pitched scream when I felt something brushing against my leg making me jump and recoil in disgust. “Who knows what’s lurking in this sewage? Giant anacondas, mutant alligators, or worse - killer clowns!” My mind raced with all sorts of ridiculous possibilities. “I can see the headlines now ‘Girl on the run from Phoenix agents and authorities eaten alive by a giant sewer anaconda’. I refuse to become a sewage statistic! My obituary will not read, ‘Death by Sewer Anaconda’!”
Calm down,” he sighed. “There is no anaconda down here. Just rats, but they’re harmless.”
“Rats!?” I squealed, my heart racing and my eyes widening in horror. “That’s even worse! They’re probably diseased and crawling all over me right now!” I could feel my skin crawl as I imagined all sorts of creepy crawlies making their way through my hair and clothes.
“How is a rat worse than a giant snake?” he asked, looking back at me incredulously with a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Giant snakes are at least predictable,” I replied. “But rats? They’re sneaky little buggers, always up to something. Plus, they have beady little eyes that seem to stare into your soul.” I shuddered at the thought and quickened my pace. I couldn’t wait to get out of this place and take the longest, hottest shower of my life. In bleach.
“Well, if it makes you feel better we’re almost there.”
When I saw the faint light up ahead, a wave of relief washed over me. I quickened my pace, squelching through the muck and mire.
My heart leapt with joy as we climbed up the rungs of the ladder and pushed the cover of the manhole aside.
We emerged into a quiet street, flanked by parked cars. The sun was setting on the horizon, casting a golden glow on everything it touched. I sucked in a lungful of air, feeling as if my very survival depended on it. And in a way, it did. We had managed to make our way through the perilous journey all the way to downtown, which was nothing short of remarkable.
“Now what?” I ask, looking around for a fire hydrant he can break open for me with his Superman’s hands.
“We get off the street.”
“And go where?” I waved my arms about. “Knock on someone’s door and ask to use their bathroom for an impromptu sponge bath. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to welcome us with open arms and a fresh bar of soap.”
He walked up to a parked car and effortlessly elbowed the window, shattering it into pieces. My eyes widened in shock as he climbed into the car and began fiddling with the wires beneath the steering wheel.
“You can’t just do that!” I whispered-yelled, as I hesitated to follow him, frantically looking around for any signs of the cops or Phoenix or the owner of the Toyota we are currently jacking.
“Do you want to wash off that stench or not?” he asked without looking up at me. I had never seen anyone hotwire a car before, except in movies.
“We can’t just steal someone’s car! That’s a felony.”
“Now you’re worried about felonies?” he snorts.
“I’m not exactly eager to experience the thrill of handcuffs or cosy up in a jail cell. Some of us rather not jeopardize our freedom and future just for a joyride in someone else’s car. So, forgive me for not being giddy at the idea of committing yet another felony.”
“Then stay here.”
“No! Wait!”
Chapter 10: Liar, Liar Pants on Fire.
[Sound of crackling radio]
Good evening, folks. We interrupt our regular programming to bring you a critical update on a distressing incident that has shaken our community. We have just received chilling news involving a brutal attack, a kidnapping, and the urgent search for a missing woman.
On the night of August 25th, at approximately 1AM, local authorities were alerted to a harrowing act of violence. The call came from Grace Winters, who tragically lost her life in her own home. The assailant, an infected individual, also kidnapped her 27-year-old niece, Bellamy Winters.
Swiftly responding to the distress call, law enforcement arrived at the scene only to face gunfire from the infected kidnapper, escalating the situation into a perilous and volatile encounter. The suspect remains armed and is considered highly dangerous. We urge all listeners to exercise caution and remain vigilant.
Today, the authorities have issued a public appeal for any information regarding the whereabouts of Bellamy Winters or the suspected kidnapper. The infected perpetrator standing over seven feet tall, sporting fiery red hair and was last seen wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans.
Bellamy Winters, the victim in this heartbreaking incident, is a five-foot-six-inch-tall white female, with long brown hair and brown eyes. At the time of her abduction, she was wearing strawberry pajama shorts and a white tank top.
We implore all listeners to keep a watchful eye and report any suspicious activities that could be connected to this incident. The safe return of Bellamy Winters is of the utmost importance. The authorities assure us that every possible effort will be made to secure her safe release.
If you possess any information pertaining to this case, we strongly urge you to contact the local authorities or reach out to Phoenix Corporation immediately. Your cooperation can play a vital role in swiftly resolving this distressing situation.
Please stay tuned for further updates on this evolving story. Let us rally together as a community, supporting one another and working towards justice for those impacted. Remember to prioritize your safety and the well-being of those around you and stay within the walls at all times.
[Sound of crackling radio fades]
We made it through the Holland Tunnel just in the nick of time, and boy, was I in for a shock when we caught the news report on the radio. I mean, seriously, I couldn’t believe the amount of lies they were spouting. Two days ago, I would’ve bought every single word those jerks said hook, line and sinker.
They kicked down my apartment door like they own the place, then shot up my aunt’s house. And let’s not forget that little car chase that cost my aunt her life. I know exactly what my aunt would say. ‘Can’t trust ‘em as far as you can throw ‘em, ‘cause they’re as two-faced as a playing card and got more tricks up their sleeve than a riverboat gambler.’
“Lass?” Ivor’s voice draws me out of my own head.
“My eyes aren’t just brown; they are light goddamn brown!” I snap, brushing away the single tear that rolled down my cheek.
“Aye.”
“Can you believe the bullshit they are saying? They are the reason I will never taste another piece of my aunt’s famous peach cobbler. They are the reason I’m smellier than a skunk in a pickle barrel. They took everything from me and now pretend to care about my well-being.” I sneer. “Those bastards are sneakier than a possum in a henhouse!”
“Feel better?”
“Why aren’t you mad? You have just as much of a reason to be. They blatantly accused you of cold-blooded murder.”
“When I get mad, people die.”
“Oh.” We wouldn’t want that.
“The media spreading false news isn’t anythin’ new, and it sure won’t be the last time they do. Especially when it comes to people like me.”
I don’t believe he is anything like the dreadful savage monster the media portrays him to be. He may be an infected, but he has never made any attempt to hurt me. He makes threats, but he never follows through with them.
“I don’t think you’re a cold-blooded murderer,” I said. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, not anymore.” I couldn’t help but notice the tiniest lift of his lips, almost like a hidden smile. “Wait, is that a smile?” I gasped, pretending to be shocked. “Is Ivor the brute actually smiling?” I teased.
“That wasn’t a smile,” he grunted, trying to maintain his tough exterior.
“Oh? Then what would you call it?” I quipped, not letting him off the hook so easily.
“You, annoyin’ me,” he replied, his tone more playful than mean.
I burst into laughter.
His gaze flickered towards me, his eyes lingering briefly on my mouth before refocusing on the road ahead. At that moment, it felt as if he had something he wanted to say, but the words remained trapped within him. The silence between us stretched on as we both retreated into our own separate worlds.
My mind wandered, consumed by thoughts of my aunt and the countless precious moments I had foolishly let slip away. It was overwhelming, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. What made it even more unbearable was the realization that my parents’ accident was not a mere coincidence—it was deliberate.
Questions swirled relentlessly in my head, each one more pressing than the last. Why would the government stoop to such lengths? Why were they protecting Phoenix Corp, and how exactly are they involved in this sinister conspiracy? Thinking and trying to understand all of this would drive me madder than a wet hen on a scorching summer day! So instead I found myself studying the key for the umpteenth time today, hoping to discover its purpose. What did she know that was worth unleashing a city-wide manhunt?
Aunt Grace, what did you find?
Out of the blue, Ivor suddenly pulled the car over in front of a cemetery and gets out with the paper bag tightly in his hand.
I didn’t know he still had it.
“I’ll be back.”
I had no clue where we were, but one thing was for sure—we were definitely not in NYC anymore. Time ticked by slowly as I sat there waiting. He got in the car, started the engine and drove off. I sat there, trying to piece things together. And then, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
“He doesn’t know?” I blurted out, expecting a snarky remark or a sarcastic comment in response.
But to my surprise, he ran his fingers through his hair and replied, “He forgets.”
“Did he know he was…um…turned?” He nods. That explains why he wasn’t afraid of Ivor.
I didn’t want to push my luck. This was progress for us, and I wasn’t about to open my big mouth and ruin it.
“Can I ask you a question?” I asked a few minutes later.
“Can I stop you?”
“No. I was trying to be polite.” He grunted at me. “Why is Phoenix kidnapping people?”
Over the past year, there have been numerous reports of people mysteriously disappearing from the streets. According to news sources, these incidents were attributed to the actions of Prime. But knowing what I know now, I’m not sure what I believe anymore.
“All we know so far is once they enter Phoenix Corp, they vanish without a trace.”
My outrage grew as I questioned, “How could the government possibly be a part of something like that? Why would they continue to protect Phoenix if they know they were kidnapping innocent people?”
“Alliances, power dynamics, corruption—take your pick. Phoenix has more armed agents than the precinct has police officers. Once the prison population started to dwindle down and people started to notice, they started snatchin’ folks from the streets.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“We’ve got our eyes and ears spread throughout the city. Just because we’re banned from the cities and isolated from civilization doesn’t mean we’re oblivious to what’s happenin’.”
I cringed. I knew he didn’t mean it as an insult or anything, but I couldn’t help but take it that way. I lived in the city, and I felt as clueless as a possum up a gum tree.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he turns down a bumpy dirt road in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by towering trees. The clock is ticking closer to midnight. “Is this where you plan to bury my body?” I half-joke. Talk about going the extra mile. “You could have just dumped my body in the Hudson and saved yourself the trouble of this scenic detour.”
“What can I say? I like to keep it original.”
“Funny. You’re kidding right?” When he didn’t reply right away, I started to panic. “Ivor?”
“If I wanted you dead, you think you would be here?”
“I have the key,” I said lamely.
“I let you have the key.”
“Well… it’s my aunt’s key!” I sound more like a spoiled brat than an adult.
We bounce along the bumpy dirt road until the car grinds to a halt, and my eyes widen at the sight before me. A stunning lake sprawls out, its surface glimmering under the moonlight, surrounded by towering trees. It looks like a scene straight out of a nature documentary, a hidden gem in the middle of nowhere.
“It’s nicer than the Hudson,” I mumbled as I got out. “How did you find this place?”
“I was stationed at a base just north of here for a few weeks. Me and a couple of mates stumbled upon it one night.”
“You have friends?”
“There’s that face again,” he says as he strides towards the lake. “Wow, what do you think you’re doing?” Without warning he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on a rock at the edge of the lake.
“Takin’ a bath in mother nature,” he said as he dives in headfirst.
Right. Makes sense.
After a few minutes when he hadn’t resurfaced, I started to wonder if he had drowned. Can infected swim or would they just sink like a lead balloon? The longer he stayed submerged, the more my worry intensified. I mean, he’s tough as nails when it comes to bullets, but swimming might not be his strong suit. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but the truth hit me hard: if I was gonna make it out of this mess, I needed him more than ever. Suddenly he pops up in the middle of the lake and I exhale a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. The moonlight caresses his luscious, water-kissed body, deep in the calm lake, and a jolt of electricity shoots through my veins.
Ohhh my…
Every graceful bend and finely crafted shape of his form sprang to life beneath the enchanting moon’s glow. Each perfectly chiselled line and sculpted curve of his physique seemed to poke fun at my own existence, taunting me with an attraction that I couldn’t help but find funny and downright maddening.
Oh, my goodness gracious, those lips are like two fluffy clouds that I just wanna sink my teeth into… and those hands? oh boy! They’re massive and masculine, with fingers so long they could probably reach places. And don’t even get me started on those abs. They’re so hard, you could crack nuts on ‘em!
Wait, what am I saying? I face-palm myself. Scratch that, I mean, I’m a lady, I don’t think about such things.
Oh man, his chest though, it’s like he’s smuggling a washboard under there. And those shoulders, they’re like boulders! Not that I’m objectifying him or anything... He’s an infected, for goodness sake! A total beast! But, I mean, if he wanted to flex those muscles for me, just once...
No! Bad Bellamy! Have some self-respect, girl. I shall not succumb to temptation.
I rebuke you!
“Are you goin’ to stare all night?” his voice silky smooth, as his fingers caressed through his damp hair. Water droplets cascaded down his locks, glistening like a coordinated photo shoot.
Come on! Cut a girl some slack, won’t you?
“Stare at you? Pfft.” I fold my arms pretending to be offended by his very true accusation. “I am definitely not staring at you. I’m just, you know, taking in the sights and sounds of this beautiful night. Look at that lake, so blue and serene, and that moon, so nice and shiny and there’s this cool breeze.” Stop talking. Stop talking. “So why on earth would I even think about staring at you? I mean, sure, you’ve got those water droplets dripping down your hair like you just stepped out of a shampoo commercial or whatever, but I am not staring at you, pfft.”
He emerged from the water and slowly sauntered towards me, every step exuding confidence. His jeans clung to him like a second skin, accentuating his powerful, muscular legs. And oh, the water droplets!
Is it just me or have water droplets always been this sexy and I have never noticed before?
Mm…
They descended from his body in slow motion, as if choreographed by synchronized swimming snails. I couldn’t help but feel like I had stumbled onto the set of a hilariously over-the-top romantic comedy.
Seriously, can’t a girl catch a break?
The closer he got I could see that mouthwatering v-line highlighted like a neon sign, flashing “Look Here!” in case I missed the memo.
I would be better off if he was an untamed crazed beast that peed on the furniture.
He stopped in front of me, standing mere inches away, the essence of the lake clinging to him like a captivating perfume. The tantalizing aroma of fresh water and earth filled my senses, intermingling with the heat radiating from his body, creating an irresistible combination. Time seemed to suspend, and the air crackled with an electric charge. His presence enveloped me in a captivating aura that stirred an unfamiliar primal longing within.
Jumping him would be frowned upon, right?
A shiver traced its way down my spine, as a rush of warmth surged through my body. He brushes away another loose strand of hair from my face as my breathing hitches and my stomach flutters.
”You do realize how bad of a liar you are?”
“I’m… I’m not a bad liar.” My voice breathy.
His lips curved into a mischievous smirk, and in that instant, my heart fluttered like a captured bird. With a gentle touch, he traced his thumb along my lower lip, delicately releasing it from the subtle prison of my teeth. The mere brush of his skin against mine sent a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a fire deep within my core. Desire surged through my every fibre, my body responding with a demanding throb.
This is bad.
“Every time you lie, you bite down on these.” His voice exuded raw desire; its sultry tone heightened by his irresistible accent.
I swallow— hard.
Suddenly he inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut, and a low, primal growl reverberates through his chest.”You smell so damn good,” he rasps, as he cups my face.
I could argue that but at that moment, with his hand on me, my mind becomes a willing accomplice to his words. He leans in nestling his head into the tender hollow of my neck taking in my scent as his warm breath caresses my skin. I shudder. I tilt my head back, granting him better access. His lips trace a tender path from the base of my neck to my ear, setting my heart ablaze and my very core pulsating with anticipation. He captures my earlobe between his teeth, drawing out a sensuous moan that escapes my quivering lips. Suddenly, realizing what he had done, he withdraws his hand and jerks away from me as if he had been scalded by an invisible flame. He shakes his head, his expression filled with conflict and regret as he retreated even farther away from me. His hands balled up in tight fists causing the veins on his arms and neck to pop out.
“Ivor—”
“Go wash up. I’ll get a fire goin’,” he snarls and storms off.
What in the…?