Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness Ch.16
Title: Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness
By: Pink Rabbit Productions
Chapter: 16
Date: 20 September, 2010
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.
Author's Notes: Awhile back, just for fun, I did a faux movie poster that set Otalia in a horror setting and used some elements from an idea I've had running around for ages (what can I say---it was the Halloween season). See the poster here: http://altfic.com/artgallery/otalia/glafterworld01b.htm . Sooo, at some point, it seemed like fun to take a gander at writing them in that universe. I've quite deliberately tried to break away from my usual style and make it a bit faster moving, with frequent chapter breaks, deliberate cliffhangers, shorter scenes and more directed pov. We'll see if I can keep to one pov per chapter (well, they are short chapters...lol).
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.
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 |
Afterworld:
Into the Arms of Darkness
Chapter 16
"Olivia?" Natalia whispered tightly, barely resisting the urge to grab her shirtfront and shake hard as she demanded to know what the hell she was talking about. She searched slack features, looking for any sign of life, and for the briefest second thought she saw none, then she spotted the faint rise and fall of the other woman's chest.
"What the hell?" she exhaled as she considered the woman's last minute information. Just an attempt to hold out a carrot to the person with whom she was leaving her child, or maybe nothing but a panicked hallucination that there was something good and safe left in the world...
Or maybe real?
Her breath caught and her heart throbbed in her chest. It couldn't be...
But Olivia Spencer had clearly been a rich woman, one who'd wielded both money and power. And Natalia knew from experience how the rules for the rich and the poor were different. The rules didn't apply to them and so maybe...
Then she remembered the Spaulding mansion, or rather the remains of the mansion, little more than charcoal and kindling now. Proof that being rich wasn't always the key to survival. Her in-laws had thought their money would keep them safe just as it had in the past. Alan never really understood that once loyalty was no longer purchased with cash, but rather bought with blood, sweat and the willingness to offer aid and comfort, he was the poorest man in town.
Peering at the sprawled woman, she tried to assess her. Was she like the worst of the Spauldings, caring only for herself and thinking she could buy her way out of anything? The horrid threats she'd issued didn't exactly make the case in her favor, but at the same time, she'd thought she was fighting for her child.
A child she clearly adored. And despite Natalia's fears, one who clearly adored her right back. Not that she trust that love alone. More than one abused child worshiped a brutal parent. But she'd seen a gentleness and kindness in Olivia's dealings with Emma that she couldn't imagine would ever turn cruel. It just too loving.
So there had to be something decent there, no matter her sins. Natalia took a deep breath, pushing down any remaining fears.
She just had to assume that Olivia had been more like Nicky, who, for all of his flaws, had ultimately tried to do the right thing by the people around him. Flawed, she could deal with and find a way to forgive.
She abruptly realized she was just standing there. Wasting time.
Foolish. Despite her best efforts, Olivia could die at any time and if that happened, all the navel gazing in the world would be meaningless because the sedative in her system wouldn't do a damned thing anymore. Working quickly, she refastened the woman's hands and feet, giving her a little more leeway this time, but not enough that there was any chance of escape.
Finished, she backed away, peering at her watch. Better than twelve hours since the probable bite time. According to Rick, most bite victims were well into the worst of the infection by that stage. In fact, many didn't even survive this long, depending on the severity of any wounds. It gave her some hope that the antibiotic shots the night before had started working and bought some time.
Because there was no longer any doubt in her mind that Olivia had been bitten. The angry red around the injury, shakiness, faintly labored breathing and increasing pallor left her certain. She wished she knew if Rick had been able to save any of the patients he'd seen on his rounds. He'd never answered the question, always waving her away when it came up, his expression that of a man who couldn't deal with the things he knew. Not wanting to intrude, she'd backed away. Now she wished she hadn't.
Unfortunately, it meant she had huge holes in her knowledge base. Most of her information came from his notes rather than what he'd actually said, and so many of those had been burned in the fire that she was missing too much information to know.
She did know that he'd advised a saline drip with a heavy antibiotic on a steady feed. Without any way of doing that, she'd opted for the shots and pills to try and get a full spectrum effect. Except she was no doctor, just a mother who'd dealt with a sick child for years, then held a doctor, learning what she could on the fly. She had a vague idea what she was doing, but really, she was just shotgunning and hoping for the best.
She laid her hand on Olivia's forehead. Her skin was paper dry and a little too warm. Better than too cool. That was a sign of a body shutting down, and invariably signaled the end was near. "You need to fight this," she whispered almost inaudibly. "She needs you...and I...I don't know if I'm strong enough to get her through..." She leaned back, watching the other woman, half expecting some kind of response.
But Olivia wasn't answering anymore.
Finally, Natalia straightened and stepped away from her patient. She considered taking the time to go through Rick's notes again in hopes of spotting something she'd missed before, but...
Her head swung toward the door through which Emma had disappeared. She'd done what she could for Olivia, at least for the moment, and the poor kid had to be hurting. The first thing Rick had stressed when she'd started working for him was to focus on the patients you could help.
With that thought in mind, she checked Olivia's bindings one more time, briefly debating a gag before deciding against it. Olivia wasn't crying out the way she had the night before and if she changed, Natalia had no intention of getting close enough for snapping teeth to be a problem. Satisfied things were safely secured for the moment, she slipped out.
A quick check of various windows confirmed that the population of wanderers around the house had gone down considerably in the hours since sunrise. With nothing to hold their attention, they were getting bored and moving on. A flush slid over her skin as she remembered Olivia's taunting remarks, but she pushed the vague sense of humiliation down. Yes, she knew their habits. It helped keep her alive and allowed her to simply avoid them most of the time.
It was easier that way.
Maybe Olivia Spencer would have just opened fire and started killing at will, and maybe it would have even been for the best.
But Natalia just couldn't do it. Even knowing they weren't her friends anymore, that they would kill her if they could, she couldn't lay in wait to harm them. She'd done what she had to when it came down to it, but it always left her feeling emotionally bereft and sick with guilt. It was easier to just stay out of their way.
Pushing that thought off, she moved to another window, easily spotting Olivia's vehicle where she'd left it under a stand of trees. The side door where Emma had climbed out was standing open, but it was otherwise undisturbed. The dead had no use for such things and generally no interest. They might rummage a bit, but rarely did they do much property damage unless they were in search of prey.
Still, the dead weren't the only threats out there. A strange vehicle, well stocked, the doors open, was much too likely to draw unwanted attention. She'd need to do something about that as soon as possible.
But not today, she thought as she spotted Dr. Rick, shambling around the house they'd turned into an impromptu hospital ward, his left side showing the horrible damage done in the fire that had killed him, then Remy, still wandering his old rounds, his police uniform tattered and blood streaked, but his badge still seeming strangely well polished. Maybe it was just an accident, but she was never certain. They and a few others were regulars, but there were others, like Mallet and Matt who usually stuck to their own territories, plus a few strangers, the ones who ambled by on the nearby highway, ever moving, driven by forces she couldn't understand. The wanderers were always less patterned, more unpredictable. That made them more dangerous. Safer to just wait them out.
Besides, how could she set out to harm all that remained of the people who'd been her friends and neighbors, the very ones who'd helped her, saved her, and kept her alive, sometimes at the cost of their own lives?
Shaking off the thought, she straightened herself as a small sound from the back bedroom reminded her that she had more immediate worries. Fingering the cross around her throat, she said a small prayer as she begged for guidance in how to help the child. Her every instinct was to reassure her that everything would be all right, that her mother was going to be fine, and that the worst wouldn't happen.
But as much as she wanted to believe things would go that way, if she was wrong...
At the same time, telling a child her mother might well face the most hideous fate imaginable...
She wasn't much up for that either. Finally, deciding she'd know what to say when it came time, she headed toward the tiny sound.
She found Emma in the back bedroom, seated cross-legged on the floor, tucked neatly into one corner of the room, a wall at her back and on one side, a large dresser bureau on her other side. There was no doubt in Natalia's mind she'd chosen the most protected spot in the room on purpose. She had the sketchpad on her lap and a crayon in hand, but was sitting absolutely still, her gaze unfocused.
"Hey, sweetie," Natalia said very softly as she crouched down to put them more on the same level.
The child blinked and seemed to shake herself out of her silent reverie to peer up at Natalia.
"You okay?" the question was as gently asked as Natalia knew how to make it.
She got a tiny, limp shrug in return and Emma wouldn't meet her eyes.
Running her thumb along the top edge of the sketchpad, Natalia noted the paper was absolutely blank. "If I were you, I'd be pretty scared," she admitted as she took a seat in front of the girl, neatly folding herself into the same cross-legged position.
Thin shoulders twitched and scrunched as though Emma had either taken a blow or was expecting one, but she didn't say a word.
"Y'know," she tried again, "I'll bet your mom would really appreciate it if you could come up with something pretty for her to look at when she wakes up."
A child's eyes that were very much the image of the mother, tipped up, spearing Natalia with an accusing look. "You don't really think she's gonna wake up," Emma said, the words no less angry because they were softly spoken.
"That's not true," Natalia denied the charge. "I'm doing everything I know to help your mom."
"But you don't think it'll work...or you wouldn'ta tied her up," the girl shot back before tipping her head down and glaring at the paper on her lap as though it was somehow at fault. She immediately started scrawling with the crayon in hand with such force that it quickly snapped.
Natalia flinched. She'd thought Olivia had managed to hide the ties. "Emma." The child ignored her, still dragging the crayon furiously over the paper, nearly shredding it in the process. "Emma," she tried again, her voice a little sharper. And then again, "Emma!" She laid a firm hand over the girl's, stilling the wild motion. "I'm sorry you saw that," she soothed in the face of the angry look directed her way. "But that was a choice your mother agreed with...and it's not because I don't think she can get through this..." She paused, struggling to clear her head and figure out how to explain the situation to a frightened eight-year-old who was looking at being all alone in a very cruel world.
"Then why?" Emma demanded before Natalia had a chance to speak again.
Staring at her hand where it covered Emma's smaller one, Natalia tried to think of a good answer, but she'd never been skilled at this sort of thing, never facile with words or quick to verbalize her thoughts. "Your mom would never...ever...want to hurt you." She might not know or even like the woman, but that much was readily apparent.
"Which just means that you think--" Emma cried out, but Natalia cut her off.
"No," Natalia interrupted sharply, then continued, her voice softer and coaxing. "No...but in this situation...we can't be sure..." she admitted as green eyes silently accused her. She paused momentarily, struggling to clear her thoughts and find a way to express herself in a way a child could understand without making it hurt any more than necessary. "We took those precautions...in case things don't go well...because your mom...she would never take any chance with your life that she could avoid."
Emma wiped at a stray tear with her free hand. "I should be with her," she said in a very small voice.
Natalia understood the impulse. "She's just sleeping right now, sweetie. There's nothing you can do to help."
"But we've been together ever since...and I know she'd be there for me."
"I know," Natalia admitted. "But right now, the best thing you can do for her is take care of yourself." She ran her finger along the top edge of the art pad. "And one way you can show her you've done that is to draw the prettiest thing you can...so you have something to share with her when she wakes up."
"How do you know?" Emma demanded, clearly hunting for some logic that would change Natalia's mind.
Exhaling a tired sigh, Natalia looked away for a moment. "I know..." she began, reaching out to brush silky hair back from the child's face. She cupped her hand along a small cheek, taking comfort from the warmth and solidity of her presence. If someone so small and fragile could survive, it offered a little hope for the rest of the world. "...because I have a son, and I would give anything..." Her throat closed down, threatening to choke off anything she might have said. It took her a moment to regain control. A moment during which she was very aware of wide eyes watching her closely. "...anything to have some sign that he was okay."
Emma's chin snapped down and a fat teardrop hit the sketchpad, warping the paper as it soaked in. "My big sister, Ava..." she whispered almost inaudibly, her obvious heartbreak enough to make Natalia bleed. "She was working at Mommy's hotel in San Francisco...but...we don't know anything."
Feeling her stomach knot with sympathy, Natalia didn't quite know what to say, but she understood even better how a parent could be pushed to madness to protect one child if she knew the pain of possibly losing another. She was silent for a long moment as she watched Emma wipe her tears away, then peel the top sheet of paper free and toss it aside.
The little girl took a deep breath, raising her gaze to peer past Natalia at the photo mural. She studied it with the seriousness of a master artist, then ducked her head again, focusing on the paper as her small hand began to move, sketching a light outline of a pond.
Not pushing, Natalia sat and watched for several minutes, giving the child a little space to process things. Finally, she cleared her throat, then murmured, "Can I ask you a question, Emma?"
The small chin rose and grass-green eyes fixed on her with a look that held equal parts anxiety and curiosity.
"It's nothing awful," Natalia quickly assured her, "I just..."
A thump. Soft, faintly echoey, but with a heaviness to it.
Nothing she would have paid any attention to in another time, but now Natalia knew every sound the house made, knew the good and the bad, the safe and the dangerous.
And that was a very dangerous sound.
Because that was the exact sound of something working the hidden latch on the kitchen door to the attic stairway...
* * * * * *
TBC