Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness -- Chapter 56
Title: Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness
By: Pink Rabbit Productions
Chapter: 56
Date: 3 September, 2012
Disclaimer: Hmmm, characters, not mine, situation, mine, though with the proviso that certain scenarios owe a major debt of gratitude to George Romero. Sex? Likely. Genders involved? Likely all female (at least anything on camera). Also there are likely to be very bad things in this story. I'm not one for prodigious amounts of gore, but this is horror and there is likely to be ickiness and things that might disturb some folks. Seriously. If it's gonna bother you, move along.
Summary: When the dead rise, civilization falls.
Dedicated to: My mom. Seriously. All of my growing up years, she would constantly throw me these what-if scenarios and press me to figure out logical ways to survive/get out of various emergency situations. Now, she never mentioned the zombie apocalypse, but I'm sure that was just an oversight or a desire not to scare a little kid (because, really, I grew up as the daughter of a top secret type during the cold war...I already had enough fear issues), but really, that odd little game was the genesis of...well...not just this story, but a lot of my love of writing. So, thanks mom.
Author's Note: Hey look, a chapter, in less than six months even.
Previous Chapters: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Chapter 34 | Chapter 35 | Chapter 36 | Chapter 37 | Chapter 38 | Chapter 39 | Chapter 40 | Chapter 41 | Chapter 42 | Chapter 43 | Chapter 44 | Chapter 45 | Chapter 46 | Chapter 47 | Chapter 48 | Chapter 49 | Chapter 50 | Chapter 51 | Chapter 52 | Chapter 53 | Chapter 54 | Chapter 56 |
In mathematics you don't understand things. You just get used to them.
Johann von Neumann (1903 - 1957)
Chapter 56
“I’ve got you,” Olivia croaked as she caught Natalia’s blood-soaked form before she could tumble to the grimy garage floor. The injured woman’s eyes rolled and she sagged against Olivia’s chest, curling into the protection of her body like a child fleeing a nightmare.
“I just needed...you...” Natalia mumbled, her breath playing over the bare skin of Olivia’s shoulder. She found the curve of Olivia’s waist with trembling hands and clung desperately. “Don’t let go...” she slurred. “Not...now-“
“I won’t,” Olivia assured the woman in her arms, terrified she was slipping away. “But you have to hold on too,” she continued, her voice simultaneously diamond hard and achingly tender. She caught Natalia’s chin between her thumb and forefinger and forced her head up until their gazes met. Searching dark eyes with desperate intensity, she silently willed Natalia to fight the encroaching darkness. “Stay with me,” she implored and leaned down, coming so close her bangs brushed Natalia’s, honeyed strands mixing with chestnut in the narrow space between them. “I’ve got you and I’m not letting go.”
A moment passed, then Natalia raised a gently trembling hand, running the very tips of her fingers along Olivia’s cheek, then down to follow the full curve of her lower lip. “You really aren’t,” she whispered very softly, her tone haunted by the ghosts of a history Olivia could only guess at.
“No,” Olivia heard herself promise before she could think better of it. “Whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.” It was a promise she had no business making. She couldn’t stay, couldn’t guarantee anything but the very near future, but she couldn’t hold back the words either. She pressed the softest of kisses to the injured woman’s forehead. “You’re gonna be all right,” she whispered fiercely, then more softly, “You have to be.”
Except there were still all the injuries, both dealt by Jeffrey and self-inflicted, Olivia reminded herself. Comforting as it was to just stand there and hold each other, they both needed medical treatment. She slid her hand over to cup Natalia’s elbow, feeling the wet stickiness of still-oozing blood. She had to get that stopped soon.
She was still trying to summon the energy to move when the door to the house swung open.
“MOM!” Emma stood there, her eyes wide and bright. She was carrying a rifle that appeared to be taller than she was.
“I’m all right,” Olivia quickly assured Emma, though she felt like she’d been through a meat grinder. She never lied to her daughter, but there was such a thing as too much honesty.
Eyes that were a clear mirror of her own swept over her, then moved on to Natalia’s slumped form. Emma flinched as she took in every fresh bruise, drop of blood, or ripped bit of cloth. Finally, she looked back at her mother, her expression accusing. “When I woke up and found you were both gone and just left a note...” She trailed off and let the unsaid words hang in the space between them.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia apologized sincerely and her head a little dazedly. “It was just supposed to take a few minutes...get some supplies from the other house. We didn’t think there’d be trouble-“
“And there was,” Emma filled in, her tone still angry.
“Jeffrey’s dead,” Olivia said before her daughter could get any further. Emma was still a child and capable of a child’s tantrums, but her temper could cause a delay they couldn’t afford. The news should put a stop to that. “For certain...and in very small pieces now.”
Emma’s eyes went wide and she stared at her mother, unable to quite summon whatever questions she wanted to ask.
“We’ll talk about it when things are calmer,” Olivia continued, careful to keep her voice even. “But right now,” she slipped an arm around Natalia’s waist and took more of her weight, “we need to take care of Natalia. She’s hurt...and she needs help.” She hated that Emma had been forced to accept so many adult responsibilities so young. She should have been allowed a child’s fears and tempers. But it simply wasn’t an option.
Apparently sensing the tension between mother and daughter, Natalia stiffened and brought her head up. Wavering gently on her feet, she glanced back and forth between the two, then shook her head. “I’m all right. I just-“
“No,” Olivia cut her off, her gaze still locked on her daughter. “You need help...We,” she said with extra emphasis, “need to help you.”
It took a beat, but Emma got control over herself, taking a deep breath before she straightened her shoulders and nodded. “What can I do?”
Too exhausted and beat to hell to think quickly, Olivia was momentarily uncertain what to say. She hadn’t actually had a plan because she never expected to get this far. She hemmed and hawed for a brief moment.
“Glue,” Natalia muttered, then looked up at Olivia again, pointing at the still healing cuts at her hairline. “Like I used on you that first night,” she reminded Olivia.
“Right,” Olivia exhaled. She’d nearly forgotten those hellish, dazed hours. She looked up and started to speak. “Em-“
“I know where it is,” the girl answered. Slinging the rifle over her shoulder, she spun on her heel before her mother could say another word, and took off toward the kitchen.
Natalia stared after the girl. “She shouldn’t know how to use a gun like that,” she whispered almost inaudibly. “Shouldn’t have to....” She didn’t finish as her voice choked off into silence, but the obvious implications hung in the air as thick as words would have.
“Not much choice in the matter,” Olivia sighed. As much as she hated the things she’d had to teach Emma, she couldn’t see any other way. Innocence died young and hard in Afterworld, but better innocence than Emma.
“It’s not right,” Natalia croaked, her voice thick with unshed tears.
“No,” Olivia agreed, then looked down at Natalia, guilt in her eyes despite her words. She’d taught her daughter to kill and even killing the dead had consequences. Unfortunately, that was still better than the alternative. “But if it were any other way, we’d probably all be dead.”
Something thudded against the garage door, the sound echoing with a hollow, metallic edge. It was a tangible reminder that threats still lurked all too near.
Pushing off the sick horror over choices made, Olivia straightened. Time for practical matters. “Inside,” she bit out as she tightened her hold and urged Natalia through the door that led into the house. Once they were through, she paused just long enough to bolt and bar the door, mindful that it was always best to assume the dead would get through and put as many layers of security as possible in place to stop them. Then she turned back to Natalia, slipping an arm around her waist as she guided her toward the livingroom.
They’d almost made their way to the couch when Emma appeared carrying an armful of things. She spilled the contents haphazardly onto the coffee table: towels, alcohol, plastic garbage bags and super glue. Good selection, Olivia noted, uncertain whether to be proud or horrified that her kid knew so much about how to handle this kind of emergency.
Pivoting, she peered up at the two adults, a frown sketching its way across her brow.
Olivia offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile, though she suspected it was more of a grimace. Emma definitely showed no sign of being impressed. “Thanks, Em.” Then she was forced to concentrate on Natalia as she helped her settle onto the couch.
Despite her obvious efforts to contain her response, Natalia couldn’t hold back a small whimper.
“I can get the first aid kit from our stuff,” Emma offered. Anger had clearly given way to fear as she realized how serious the situation was.
The added supplies would be welcome, but the kit was still in their SUV, which was in the garage next to the truck...which was near the garage door where who knew how many dead things were wandering. Discarding any jokes about the house that Jack built, Olivia shook her head, dismissing the idea. Too dangerous, especially for her eight year-old daughter. “No,” she instantly vetoed the idea.
“But, Mom-“ Emma started to argue.
“No,” Olivia reiterated, her tone hard enough to silence any protests. She looked over at Natalia who nodded dully.
“There are more medical supplies upstairs,” the injured woman mumbled. “The yellow cabinet in the bathroom.”
Emma was off and running before Olivia could tell her to go.
Natalia seemed about to say something for a moment, only to shake her head and remain silent. Heaving a sigh, she leaned into the cushions, head tilted all the way back on her shoulders.
Sitting sideways on the couch next to Natalia’s left side, Olivia studied cuts and bruises for a moment. “This isn’t going to be fun,” she admitted as she tucked gentle fingers under Natalia’s injured arm and guided it away from her body so she could see better.
Natalia managed a hollow laugh. “Really?” she drawled, “because I was guessing this would be the best time I’d have all day.”
Olivia got the black humor almost instantly. “Fair point,” she allowed, her touch gentle as she carefully unwrapped her t-shirt from around Natalia’s left elbow. Flecks of dried blood glued soft fabric to softer skin. “Sorry,” Olivia apologized as she pulled it loose and felt the other woman flinch.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Wishing the light was better, Olivia leaned closer to study the wound more carefully. It was deeper than she’d hoped. No surprise. Natalia had drawn a lot of blood for her little present to Jeffrey. She probed the wound very gently. There was still some serious oozing, but thankfully, the worst of the bleeding had stopped. Blood, meanwhile, had seeped into the flesh, leaving a deep, purple bruise on Natalia’s inner elbow. She flashed a quick glance up, checking on her patient. Sagged back into the cushions, she was pale and still, but Olivia could see the way she was breathing-slow, deep, controlled-and realized she was struggling to ignore the pain. A sudden swell of self doubt washed over her. Hell, she wasn’t a doctor. She had no idea what she was doing and suddenly gluing Natalia’s arm closed seemed hopelessly dangerous. Yeah, it would stop the bleeding, but she knew that keeping a tourniquet on for too long could do damage by stopping all bloodflow to an injured limb. Maybe the glue would do the same thing, seal up the damaged vein or artery or whatever-the-hell-it-was so that Natalia’s arm wasn’t getting any blood.
Maybe she was about to make things even worse.
Dammit.
“Olivia.” Natalia’s soft voice pulled Olivia out of her grim musings and she looked up to encounter the other woman’s liquid gaze. A gentle hand stroked her shoulder, then brushed her cheek. “The bleeding has to be stopped...you know that.”
A moment passed, then Olivia nodded and ducked her head. Her touch gentle, she washed the area with alcohol, disinfecting it as best she could, then drew a narrow bead of glue along the sharp edge of the cut.
Natalia tensed and hissed what Olivia was certain was a curse in Spanish, but she kept her arm perfectly still.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia apologized as she struggled to keep her hands from trembling. Blood was still welling up from the deep slice.
“Just do it.” Natalia’s voice was a ragged shadow of itself.
Pinching soft skin together, Olivia was careful to seal the entire length of the cut. She held it lightly while the glue set. She was still holding it together when she heard the soft pad of small feet.
“Mom?” Emma whispered as she returned.
“Set things on the table,” Olivia instructed. She glanced over, a hint of a wry smile curving her lips as she noted that Emma had brought clothes-a stack of worn looking shirts and what looked like shorts-as well as a large first aid kit. She had to give her kid credit for thinking on her feet. “Then I want you to head upstairs and lock down after yourself-“
“But-“ Emma started to argue, but Olivia didn’t give her time to build up a head of steam.
“Upstairs, Em...it’s non-negotiable.” She saw her daughter’s gaze slide over to Natalia’s sprawled form before it swung back to her.
“Mom?” Emma whispered, her voice suddenly very small and frightened, her question obvious. She flicked another quick, scared glance at Natalia, then looked back to her mother.
“No,” Olivia said firmly and reached out, tucking a finger under her daughter’s chin and holding her gaze. “No,” she repeated, her tone intended to reassure this time. “She’s hurt, but not that...but I’ve got to get this mess cleaned up and bring supplies in from the truck...” Or their little journey through hell would have been worthless-well, except for the killing Jeffrey part. That had been pretty worthwhile. “...and I need to know you’re safe...so I can concentrate on those things and not be distracted.” She gave her daughter a long moment to absorb what she’d said.
Finally, Emma nodded her understanding, though her expression made it clear she didn’t like the idea.
Olivia guided Emma’s chin back up when it threatened to droop. “We’ll be up as soon as possible,” she assured her.
Emma’s chin trembled, but her shoulders remained straight and there was only a hint of a quaver in her voice. “You sure?”
“Yes.” She brushed Emma’s bangs back with a gentle hand, then ruffled her hair. “But now you need to go on upstairs.”
Her daughter was perfectly still for a long moment, the only movement, her bright gaze swinging back and forth between the two adults in the room. Finally, it settled on Olivia and she managed a shaky nod. The single word, “Hurry,” was the only concession she made to her fears. She barely gave Olivia time to nod her assent before pivoting and hurrying out.
Olivia stared after her daughter, momentarily lost in her own thoughts as she tried to remember a time when Emma had been able to just be a child. God, she hated this.
“She’s an incredible kid,” Natalia exhaled after a long moment, the softly spoken words punctuated by the soft sounds of distant locks being thrown. “And you’re amazing with her.”
Olivia closed her eyes, momentarily blocking out the world. When she opened them again, she peered up at Natalia through a haze of unshed tears. “Sometimes I wonder,” she admitted.
“Don’t.” Natalia reached out, delicate fingers stroking Olivia’s cheek and sliding back into her hair.
Before she could think better of it, Olivia turned her head into the caress, drawing more comfort than she would have thought possible from the slow strokes. “I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you,” she breathed.
“We all need a little comfort sometimes.” Natalia’s fingers slowed to a halt and Olivia saw that pain had seeped into her gaze.
Catching the hand still tangled in her hair, Olivia gently tugged it down, eyeing the visible cuts and bruises. “Your turn now,” she whispered and reached for the first aid kit. She was startled when Natalia pulled her hand back.
“I’ll be okay now,” Natalia insisted, though her voice lacked conviction. She glanced down at her inner arm where blood was starting to dry and nothing fresh had been added. “You should go upstairs-“
“Like hell,” Olivia swore, but Natalia continued, her voice low and oddly firm.
“The bleeding’s stopped,” Natalia argued. She tightened her left hand into a fist, looking down at her inner elbow. There was a touch of seepage, but the glue mostly held. When she looked up again, her expression was serious. “Emma needs you.”
“Emma needs both of us.” The words were out of Olivia’s mouth before she knew what she was going to say.
A hard flinch rattled Natalia’s slender frame and dark eyes slid closed. Her mouth worked ever so slightly, but no words came out.
Breath suddenly caught in her chest, feeling like a belt was ratcheting steadily tighter around her ribcage, Olivia found herself hunting desperately for something to say. Even with so many things standing between them and so many reasons to walk away, she couldn’t.
But neither was she so cruel as to utter the words that would doom them both.
So instead she reached for the supplies Emma had brought. After a brief debate, she took enough time to run a damp towel over her own arms and torso, cleaning up as much of the blood as possible before yanking on a fresh shirt. Peeling off her blood spattered jeans, she tossed them in a garbage bag, then ran the towel over her legs in broad swaths before yanking on a pair of shorts. The towel followed the jeans into the trash bag. When she finished, she looked down to find Natalia’s eyes were still closed and she looked a little more relaxed.
Kneeling in front of the other woman, Olivia retrieved another damp towel and began gently scrubbing scraped, cut, and blood-smudged skin. When she felt she had Natalia’s uninjured arm disinfected, she dug through the first aid kit Emma had retrieved from upstairs until she found what looked to be a small box with preloaded syringes. The marking on the side indicated they held an antibiotic.
Just in case, she told herself as she retrieved a syringe. It took a moment to figure out how to pop the cap, then she slid the needle into soft flesh and depressed the plunger.
Dark eyes blinked open and Natalia looked down, noting the syringe with a hint of a frown. After a beat, she nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Just to be sure,” Olivia said aloud, a hint of defensiveness slipping through. She didn’t want Natalia to think she was waiting for her to turn all fangs and snarls.
She got another tired nod in response.
Resting a hand lightly on Natalia’s thigh, Olivia massaged gently, feeling the warmth of her through her jeans, relieved to feel the right amount of heat and no spiking fever. “We need to get the rest of the blood cleaned up,” she said after a long moment of the silent comfort.
Natalia blinked, her gaze dropping first to her newly cleaned arms, then to the fingers moving absently against her thigh. “Cleaned up?” she whispered almost inaudibly, something tight and a little frightened in her voice.
“Your clothes... We can’t afford to track that much blood upstairs...”
* * * * * *
TBC