Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness Ch.22
Title: Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness
By: Pink Rabbit Productions
Chapter: 22
Date: 28 September, 2010
Rating: R (for sex and violence)
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 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 |
Afterworld:
Into the Arms of Darkness
Chapter 22
After taking the time to lock the trap and hidden door behind herself, Natalia stood in the kitchen on the ground floor and did a slow pivot. If there was any remaining blood on the tile, she saw no sign of it, and didn't particularly want to consider how it had been cleaned up. Vowing to disinfect the whole place at the first possible opportunity, she crept on, quickly checking the larger cupboards and the larder.
Clear.
She found a handgun-large, heavy, empty-in one corner of the kitchen, doubtless dropped by Olivia in the confusion, then unknowingly kicked about by the lost souls who'd wandered the house for several hours.
She tucked it in her waistband at the small of her back, then moved on. The basement door was still sealed, no sign they'd even noticed the hidden door, but she did a quick check anyway.
Clear.
They'd gotten the door between the kitchen and livingroom open, but nothing showed any sign of damage. A coat closet that Josh had camouflaged and turned into a reinforced emergency hiding spot was still undisturbed as well. She checked more rooms, careful to assess each dark corner, closet and hidden space. It didn't pay to be careless or anything less than thorough.
Clear.
Upstairs, she made her way from room to room, checking closets, hidden corners, and any shadowed spaces. Everything was quiet and in place. It didn't look like anyone had made it that far other than Josh. Not too surprising. A lot of them had a hard time navigating stairs, the problem seeming to come both from a lack of coordination and knees that grew stiffer and worked less effectively the longer they were dead.
Finally, the only room left was Colin's bedroom. Feeling her heart start to thud violently against her sternum-not fear this time, at least not fear of encountering something there to kill her-she froze for a long moment, feeling as though her feet were glued to the floor outside the bedroom door.
But she still had a job to do.
And she'd made a promise to Emma. The girl had to come before any remaining loyalties to those who were long gone.
Forcing herself to move, she stepped into the room, fighting a flinch as the past washed over her with the impact of a blow.
Too much damned history.
Strangely, it was a distant, mournful sound that brought her out of the momentary paralysis, the call reminding her of duties both failed and met. Reminding her that she had another chance to get something right.
And by the grace of god, there was nothing to suggest speech this time, only random moans. Those she could ignore or at least pretend to ignore.
Meanwhile, the shutters were still closed and barred. No sign that anyone had managed to even touch them. No surprise, Josh could barely walk. Jumping that high was out of the question. Still with the double panes of glass gone, the shutters were far less protection than she considered safe. Something would have to be done.
But not until she'd cleared the room.
One of the secrets of survival was laying out a plan and sticking to it with methodical care.
So she went over things inch by inch. There didn't look to be any damage on first glance, but Josh and Reva had made the original alterations to the house together, including another of the camouflaged, reinforced closet hiding spaces. God only knew what trouble they might have gotten up to with hours to explore and get into things. She tested the door and the latches. No sign they'd been tampered with.
She also checked the false ceiling. Undisturbed. Which meant the secondary entrance into the attic was secure from this side.
All clear.
She heaved a sigh of relief.
Which left the problem of the window. Thankfully, Josh had planned ahead for the need to reinforce the windows. There were boards in each room, cut to fit a channel that would hold them in place over the windowframe, while additional latches added more strength.
She installed the barricade and had it firmly anchored in minutes. That done, she closed and barred the shutters.
Then closed and barred the door.
Would that she could close and bar her memories as easily.
Pushing that thought aside with conscious effort, she hurried back to the attic, startled to find that what had once seemed like a punishment, a monastic cell she'd been sent to for her sins, now held a tiny light of promise.
Maybe the last little bit of warmth in the world.
The main room was empty.
No shocker there.
A quick glance in Colin's old room showed it too was empty.
Which also came as no surprise.
Just like the fact that the door to her bedroom was now unlocked. Keys were apparently redundant around young Ms. Spencer.
Emma was with her mother. Also unsurprising. Clearly, from what she'd seen, the girl could follow orders, and did for her mother, but there were no guarantees without some effort. Maybe not even then.
Any criticisms died the moment she opened the door and saw Emma standing next to the bed, a dish of water in one hand, a damp washcloth in the other, carefully washing her mother's brow.
Natalia stood in the doorway for a long moment, silently watching the scene.
Olivia whimpered softly, muscles quivering just under the skin, but Emma's touch was infinitely gentle, as though she was terrified of doing more damage.
Suddenly, the girl looked up, brow drawing into a frown, worry in her eyes. "You didn't say I couldn't," she said defensively, clearly aware she wasn't supposed to be there.
Natalia wasn't up for disciplining her for wanting to take care of her mother. And by the look of things, while Olivia was starting to show some symptoms, she was mostly just sleeping. "It's okay, sweetie," she soothed as she moved to stand beside the child. Laying the inside of her wrist against Olivia's forehead, she confirmed what the woman's deepened flush suggested.
Rising fever.
Maybe it was just as well the girl had gone ahead and defied the implied rules to spend time with her mother. If the worst happened, it might make things easier, let her feel like she'd done all she could. Natalia rested her hand lightly on Emma's shoulder. "But after this, I need you to check with me before you come in here."
The girl tipped her head up to peer at Natalia, raw anguish reflected in her gaze. She was smart enough to understand the reason for the strictures, and it wasn't about observing Olivia's wishes to spare her daughter from seeing her tied. It was about protecting her daughter's life if the worst happened.
Natalia barely contained the impulse to offer impossible promises, but false hope wouldn't make things any easier. So she just slipped an around narrow shoulders, then dropped to her knees as Emma turned toward her, accepting the desperate hug and the way the girl burrowed into her shoulder.
It was a slow-motion dissolve. First Emma was stiff in her arms, but bit by bit the tension drained from her muscles and she collapsed against Natalia. The first tears were soft, the only outward sign her ragged breathing and the damp heat against Natalia's neck. But as she held on, Emma's breathing grew steadily rougher until her whole body was quaking with harsh sobs.
There were no words, so Natalia just kept petting long hair and holding the girl close to her heart, hoping it would offer comfort and some sense of safety.
She never knew how long they stayed like that. Perhaps an hour, perhaps longer. But finally, Emma sagged against her, too exhausted even for tears.
"We'll get through this," Natalia promised her. "You'll get through this."
No response, but Emma snuggled more deeply into the curve of her neck.
Natalia waited a little longer, then shifted her hold and rose.
Emma was a dead weight in her arms. She was an amazing kid, but still a kid. All the excitement, followed by the emotion storm had knocked her off her feet. She was sound asleep.
There was a daybed in the safe room. Not really big enough for an adult, but more than large enough for a child. Natalia settled the girl on the mattress, then took a moment to remove her shoes and socks before tugging the blankets over her small frame.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Natalia watched the girl for a long time, occasionally petting her hair with a gentle hand in an effort to reassure herself that she was all right. Despite the danger, nothing had happened.
It was just that she was so small and fragile. She couldn't help but wonder how Olivia had survived the stress of it all. Less than a full day and her heart was already aching.
What the old saying, Having a child was like tearing your heart out and giving it feet to run around. And what a world it now had to run around in.
Those moments, carrying her to bed, feeling the warmth and weight of the small body in her arms, the beat of a small heart near her own, she'd experienced the sort of connection parents had felt for all eternity. The bond with a babe in the womb or an infant in arms.
After several minutes, she fetched a small first aid kit from inside the closet-sized water closet Josh had installed in the panic room. Keeping her touch gentle, she cleaned and treated the wound on Emma's forearm, relieved to see no sign of redness.
Emma never stirred.
Finally, Natalia settled the blankets a little more firmly around the girl and slipped out, locking the door on her way. She was under no illusions it would keep her in place, but there were other demons out there and it would help keep them out if there was a problem.
Now to see to Olivia...
* * * * * *
TBC