Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness Ch.51
Title: Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness
By: Pink Rabbit Productions
Chapter: 51
Date: 23 February, 2011
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 | 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 |
Author's Note: I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for the support and caring in a very challenging and stressful time. It's meant a lot to me, and helps. Also wanted to say that things are going along, not always smoothly, but also not miserably. The chemo is tiring for Mom and due to the effects on her immune system, means some limits, but at the same time, she's getting things done, enjoying stuff, and mostly feeling pretty good. We're both still learning how best to deal with all of this, but slowly figuring out the best ways through.
Afterworld:
Into the Arms of Darkness
Chapter 51
Natalia saw Jeffrey pull up short, suspicion glittering alongside madness in his gaze. He pursed his lips together as his brows into a frown. "Whaddaya mean?” he demanded, the question coming fast and hard, though the words blurred together as though he was having a hard time speaking. He leaned closer, .
Natalia froze, heart throbbing in her chest, certain he was one short step from knocking her teeth down her throat. Her gaze flicked to touch on the woman lying sprawled on the floor as she caught a hint of movement, the tiniest twitch of closed eyelids and tensing of muscles, then a quick flash of glitter-green eyes.
Alive. Still moving. Hopefully regaining consciousness.
Natalia’s impulsive lie had stopped the beating and bought Olivia a little more time. Her gaze swung back to Jeffrey, taking in his growing pallor and ever-shifting gaze as she tried to come up with something that would keep him busy-another lie big enough to put a few more minutes on credit.
Unfortunately, she had no idea what to say and she could feel his impatience growing with every passing second.
Suddenly, his hand shot out and he grabbed her shirtfront to haul her forward until they were almost nose to nose. “I said, what. Do.You. Mean?” he snarled, the words coming with shotgun-blast intensity and briefly lacking any slur. He searched her face, his gaze darting wildly. “Because 'f you tryta lie, I'll slice you 'n' let you drown in yer'n blood.”
“You want to know about Shangri-La,” she said, then softly whispered, “safety?”
He hauled her a little closer, dead-cold breath icing her skin. “A'ready know ever'thing 'bout it, 'cept where th'fuck it is-“
“And if you kill Olivia, you’ll never know,” Natalia finished for him, triumph in her eyes as she saw him flinch.
“No,” he waved off her assertion. His mouth split into an unnerving grin. “You’re wrong...sweet, li'l Emma knows...'n' when she’s all alone, she’ll be happy to tell Unca Jeffrey all 'bout it-“
“Emma’s gone,” Natalia insisted without planning. Anything to direct his attention away from the innocent child.
Jeffrey pulled up short, just staring at her for a beat, then he slowly shook his head. “No...no,” he denied. “Olivia'd never let Emma outa sight...'n' if her little sweet meat was dead...Olivia’d blow her brains out, so no...no.” He kept shaking his head jerkily, eyes darting sideways. He nodded, seeming to lean into a phantom caress as he mumbled, “‘S’righ’.” He tapped the side of his head with one finger, his gaze undirected as he muttered, “Stupid bitches can’ outsmart me.”
Trying to reason with him would be pointless. Natalia didn't even consider that option. He was long since lost in that same place between life and death that had nearly swallowed Olivia. He might talk to her, but what he was hearing and thinking was filtered through his own subconscious phantasms.
Jeffrey’s head swung toward Olivia and he visibly gathered himself for another assault on the prone woman.
No reasoning, but manipulation was still on the menu. “You’re wrong,” Natalia snapped, hoping to break through his madness enough to redirect his attention away from Olivia-she saw another hint of movement from the other woman-until Olivia could help somehow. Maybe together they had a chance against the bastard.
On cue, his head snapped up and wild eyes narrowed dangerously. His lips thinned as he considered her, and he kept shaking his head, his movements jittery. “No, no, no,” he insisted, the words coming unnaturally fast and more than a little slurred. “Not wrong, never wrong.”
“Very wrong,” Natalia disagreed, almost enjoying the fuse of rage that lit in his eyes.
He didn’t like that. Not at all.
Good.
“Olivia knew you were still around and Emma was in danger, so she sent her on,” Natalia lied on the fly.
Jeffrey smirked and even managed a giggle. “Don' send a kid alone inta Romeroville.”
“No,” Natalia agreed. “You send her with a twenty-year-old who knows how to take care of himself, a reinforced truck, food, weapons, and a map nobody else knows about.” That part of the story was almost pleasant. It was a comforting bit of fantasy to imagine Rafe out there, taking care of Emma. He would have liked that. He'd always wanted a little brother or sister. “You send her out there with my son,” she finished to forestall an argument.
That knocked Jeffrey's smirk right outa the park. He pulled up short and glared. “No,” he insisted. “She don' trus' anyone-“
“Unless she had to,” Natalia over-rode him. “She was too banged up to protect Emma, and she knew she couldn’t keep her here...not with you around. You’re too dangerous.” She deliberately played to his ego.
He preened just like she hoped he would, clearly liking the thought of the woman fearing him.
“And she knew she could trust my son.” Natalia spun her story smoothly, sinking into the fantasy of Rafe out there playing the hero for Olivia's daughter.
Suddenly she was grabbed again and hauled forward until Jeffrey’s bitter-chill breath played over her face. “Where?” he snarled the single word.
“I don’t know,” Natalia insisted, knowing he needed to stick with her story to have any chance of pulling this off.
He shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth. “Nobody fuckin' lies ta me,” he snarled.
Natalia shook her head, her voice trembling with very real fear as she insisted, "She wouldn't tell me...only she and Rafe knew...and he's gone, so that just leaves Olivia."
Which apparently sounded enough like Olivia that Jeffrey gritted his teeth and bit into his lower lip so hard it bled. "Paranoid bitch," he growled under his breath even as he showed showed no sign of noticing the crimson trickle that ran from the center of his lower lip.
To Natalia's eye, the blood seemed to congeal far faster than normal, turning dark and sticky by the time it hit the bottom of his chin.
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," he hissed furiously. "Fuckin' bitch 'lways does 'issa me." He spun, dragging Natalia along for the ride, and glared down at the prone woman. He chocked a foot back to kick only to freeze in place. More teeth gritting and growled curses followed, but he didn't lash out.
Okay, so there was a little control left mixed into the madness. Natalia could work with that. "She can give you what you want," she held out the tantalizing promise, "but only if you keep her alive."
His facial muscles kept twitching, causing a strange flow, of seemingly ever-shifting emotion, but she was aware enough to realize it was nothing, but dying-driven ticks. Despite the escalating quirks, Jeffrey managed to concentrate enough to fix a baleful gaze on Natalia. "You don' care 'bou' me," he muttered resentfully. "Only 'bou' her...ever'thin's a'ways 'bout her." He shook his head, the motion awkward and jerky, like a poorly manipulated marionette. He hauled her close again, eyes glittering with wicked threat. "Why shoulda b'lieve you?"
"I want to see my son again," Natalia whispered, her voice cracking with the intensity of very real emotion that lay behind her lies. "And I don't want to die alone here," she added, using the hardest, darkest part of her fears convince him of her honesty.
He froze, staring at her, the twitches a little slower for a brief moment. A moment of sanity maybe, or maybe just his body shutting down enough to cause brief lags in response time. Then he eyed her, leaning back to let his gaze run over her body before rising to peer at her face.
Natalia had worked in plenty of low rent bars when the customer considered harassing her simply part of the entertainment, but she'd never had anyone leave her feeling so in need of a shower with just a look.
"Hot for it, aren'ya?" He leered and yanked her so close she couldn't avoid the stench of filth and death that clung to him.
Unable to contain a shudder of distaste, Natalia jerked back as far as his grip allowed. For a second it was like her brain seized up and ceased to function. Just long enough for him to see her loathing.
His eyes narrowed, drawing his expression into a predatory slant as he tightened his grip on her body, the pressure intended to punish.
His efforts only increased her disdain, which in turn ramped up his frustration. His booted foot connected with Olivia's thigh by accident, and Natalia flinched at the dull, meat-thudding sound.
Seeing her expression, he smirked, then glanced toward the prone woman.
Natalia could literally see the thoughts running through his head as he worked out that hurting Olivia would be the best punishment for any defiance.
"No Shangri-La if Olivia's dead," Natalia dared to remind him.
He pulled up short, mouth pursing into an angry pout. She could see the rage, but he didn't lash out at Olivia. Instead, he swung his head back to peer at her with an ugly, taunting grin.
"Yer wet for it," he taunted, the words increasingly slurred and muddy, but not enough to hide the ugly meaning. As if any woman could want a creature like him. "Jus' like sh'wuz,"
"Liar," Natalia hissed before she could control herself. She didn't know exactly what he'd done, but she'd seen the raw agony in Olivia's eyes and understood enough to know it had been bad. She flinched, fully expecting rage and a blow.
Instead, Jeffrey flashed a death's head grin. "More'n one kinda wet," he taunted, then sing-songed the lyrics from an old Alice Cooper tune, the words coming out far clearer than Natalia would have preferred. "Only women bleed...Only women bleed."
And Natalia snapped, something inside her finally giving way to the pent up rage and fear.
Twisting into her captor's heavy body, she lashed out with a balled fist, knuckles splitting against the hard wedge of his jaw. No pause, no quarter, no thought. She attacked with everything she had: hit and clawed, drove a knee into what remained of his testicles and was gratified by grunts and winces and even a dull screech as her fury unbalanced and nearly toppled him.
Her only real advantages were surprise and desperation. His skin was desert-dry, but chill everywhere he made contact and his breathing came in slow, shallow pants. But despite so many symptoms of impending death, Jeffrey was eerily fast and perversely strong.
If he got his feet settled and got a solid hold on her, she was dead.
Natalia felt the pain of fresh bruises as he grabbed for her flailing hands and delivered slapping blows when he couldn't get a grip, but she kept moving, not letting it stop her. She punched again, then clawed, leaving another line of deep furrows down the hollowed planes of his cheek.
Growling incoherent curses, he stumbled, found his balance, then grabbed for her again.
This time he got a grip on the hair at the nape of her neck, dragging her head back with overwhelming strength as an inhuman growl bubbled up from his chest. The eyes that glared down at her were dark and wild, the pupils dilated, the color seemingly leeched away. "Gonna pay fer that," he muttered as he shook her violently. "Gonna getta watch her die," he snarled as he turned toward where Olivia had lain.
Only to find Olivia gone.
Jeffrey pulled up short, staring at the empty floor. His head jerked back and forth as he searched wildly for some sign of her.
Nothing.
Then suddenly, he did the last thing Natalia expected.
He laughed.
"Leftya," he sneered and yanked Natalia's head back until she was staring up at him. "Leftya ta die." He giggled. "Yer hero don' givafuck wha' I do toya."
He was so confident that Olivia had fled and left her behind to die.
And Natalia was just as confident she hadn't.
But she had to survive long enough for Olivia to get back on her own.
No punches this time. Nothing so controlled. She clawed for his eyes, digging her nails in and drawing a scream of rage as he was momentarily blinded. One hand came up to protect his face as he flung Natalia away.
She hit the floor hard and tumbled, using momentum to roll to a crouch. She was just bringing her head up and tensing to leap when awareness and sound told her they weren't alone. A quick glance confirmed Olivia's return.
She was standing in the corridor from the kitchen, her dropped pistol in hand. She glanced Natalia's way just long enough to make contact, then swung her head back around to Jeffrey who was still stumbling blind and roaring in fury, his body coiled in on itself and sideways to them.
Not a good shot at all. At least not for a fast kill.
"Hey, Jeffrey!" Olivia called out as she took aim in a classic, two-handed shooter's stance.
He pivoted, head coming up, stance opening up to make for a good shot even as his mouth dropped open in shock. He was still blinking and twitching, probably not seeing well at all, but aware enough to realize Olivia had returned. "No," he said very softly, but there was panic in his expression. He shook his head ever so slightly, then looked over at his invisible companion. "Teller Ava, teller ya love me..." he pleaded. "Teller ya love yer daddy."
Olivia fired.
The gun jerked in her hands as she launched a fast, three-shot burst that punched a tightly grouped set of holes over the left side of Jeffrey's upper chest.
Scrambling for her feet, Natalia reached Olivia's side as Jeffrey stumbled back a pace.
He staggered, but didn't go down, just tilted his head to peer at the closely spaced wounds. His mouth hung open as if he'd run out of breath mid-word. Moving slowly, a hand rose as if to touch, but shuddered several inches short and seemed to hang frozen in space.
There wasn't much blood.
Olivia was watching him closely, something strange and terrified in her expression. She still had the gun up, but her perfect shooting position seemed to fold a little, lose some tension, not with relaxation but distraction, as though she was caught doing some particularly difficult calculus problem.
Natalia swung her gaze back to Jeffrey, who was still staring down at his wounds. He started rocking gently on his heels. It seemed to her that the bullet holes were directly over his heart.
Which would mean he would fall over and die. Had to. He would collapse, die, then lay there long enough for them to finish it off. That's how it worked. They died, then there was time before they came back.
Except he still stood there, rocking slightly, the rhythm of the tiny movement seeming abnormal to Natalia's eyes for reasons she couldn't explain. "Olivia," she whispered incredibly softly, "shouldn't he..." She couldn't finish the question, uncertain what she was trying to ask, or maybe afraid to ask the obvious.
Then Jeffrey's head slowly tipped up and a hint of a smile curved his mouth. The eyes that peered at them were all wrong, somehow blank and full of focused rage at the same time.
He wasn't breathing.
A beat passed as they all stood there, staring. Waiting. Or maybe just too shell-shocked to react.
Then Jeffrey's strange smile melded into a gaping, feral scream that was part roar, part lunge, the screeching howl hitting like the first wave of violent attack.
"RUN!!" Olivia shouted even as she grabbed Natalia's shoulder and shoved her down the hallway in a desperate bid to escape.
In the blink of an eye and the wake of a bullet, death had found an all-new permutation. No grace period this time, no chance to dispatch an unresisting body, and no easy way out.
No, this time, it was an all new game.
Because Jeffrey O'Neill hadn't so much gone to hell as brought hell back to Earth...
* * * * * *
TBC