Dominion of the Damned (7 page)

“I couldn’t do anything for Mary,” Ben continued, “so I ran. A bunch of us got out the back while the Zeds were focused on getting in through the front, and we ran toward the woods. I used to play basketball, so I was in pretty good shape, and I just kept running and didn’t look back. I got to the woods and I kept running until nobody else was behind me. I… I was a Boy Scout, so I knew what to do in the woods, you know? I mean, it wasn’t easy, but I knew how to take care of myself if I got lost, until I got rescued. Except, there wasn’t anyone to come and rescue me. I don’t know how long I was out there. I tried to make my way home, to try and find my parents, but I never made it. I mean, the vampires found me, and I was brought here.” By the end of his story, his voice had grown calmer, and his face more resolute. “So that’s my story,” he said. “That’s how I survived.”

The rabbi clapped him on the back. “Thank you, Ben. You can take a seat.” He looked around at the crowd. “Who else would like to share?”

At the back of the room, several chairs down from Hannah, a waif of a young woman raised her hand. “Yes, Cheryl,” said the rabbi, nodding in her direction. “Go ahead.”

The woman stood up. She was rail thin—just like most of the people there—and petite, with straggly, dirty blonde hair. She looked around at the room and offered a small wave and a nervous half-smile to all those who had turned in their chairs to see her better. “Hi, I’m Cheryl,” she said, unnecessarily.

“Hi, Cheryl,” said the room.

“Some of you know that my husband, Carl, he didn’t treat me too well. I mean, sometimes he’d get drunk, and whoever or whatever he was pissed off at, he took it out on me. So I was used to him coming after me. But that morning, it was like nothing else I’d ever seen. He’d gone out to work on his truck before he had to go to work—that thing was always breaking down. I’m surprised it ever got us anywhere. Anyway, I was making breakfast when he come in. Things were usually okay in the mornings. He was usually sober, and Carl was a morning person, so he was usually in a good mood. Mornings were always my favorite time of day, ‘cause that’s… that’s when it always seemed like he liked being married to me, and like we could get along okay if only he’d stop drinking.”

She spoke so matter-of-factly, like this was a story she was repeating by rote instead of something that had actually happened to her. She went on. “But that morning, he come in and, and something was wrong. I mean,
wrong
, you know? There was blood on his shirt, and when I asked him what happened, if he was hurt, he just stared at me. He didn’t cuss me out or tell me to shut up or anything. He just stared, and in his eyes, it was like there was nobody home. And then he started coming towards me. He didn’t say anything, just made this sound… this gurgling sound, and blood kept, like, bubbling up in his mouth. I didn’t know what to think, or what to do, but I was more scared of him in that minute than I have been in our entire twelve years together. I tried to run to the door of the basement, but he grabbed me by the hair. He didn’t yank me back or throw me down or anything like usual. He just held on, and kept making that noise, and kept on shuffling his feet toward me. That’s when I grabbed the skillet—”

Suddenly Hannah was no longer listening to this woman tell her horror story. She was reliving her own, feeling the iron skillet in her hand, the crying baby nestled against her chest, seeing her mother’s vacant eyes and gnashing teeth. She felt sick. She took a deep breath and leaned over to Phyllis. “I have to go,” she whispered.

Phyllis blinked at her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just… I can’t do this. I’m heading back to my cell.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks.” Hannah stood up and made her way quietly to the door, trying not to draw any attention to herself. But everyone else in the room seemed to be riveted by Cheryl’s story. Everyone, that is, except the doctor. He watched her, and Hannah couldn’t decide whether the look on his face was curiosity or concern. She did her best to ignore him and avoided eye contact as she slipped past him and out of the room.

“Miss Jordan?”

She turned to see that the doctor had followed her out to the corridor.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. She didn’t really know how to answer that question, so she just laughed. He seemed to realize it was a stupid question, and looked slightly chagrined. He came toward her. “It’s not safe for you to walk around here alone. I’ll walk you back.”

She laughed again, disbelievingly. “You mean I’m safe with you?”

He stopped and leveled a gaze at her. “Yes. You are.”

Something about the way he said it made her want to believe him, to trust him. She wondered again about vampire powers of hypnosis, and shook her head. “Thanks, Doctor, but I’ll be fine.”

She walked away, but he followed her anyway. “The ones who brought you here said they found an emergency shelter in your back yard. Is that where you were hiding all this time?”

“Yes.” She didn’t see any further point in denying it.

“How long were you down there?”

“I don’t know. Since the outbreak. About five months.”

“And your brother. He was born in the shelter?”

Hannah stopped walking. “Why are you asking about my brother?”

Dr. Konstantin turned around to face her. “I need to know his medical history.”

“Why? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. I just need to know if he’s had his vaccinations, or if he’s been exposed to any illnesses that we should be aware of.”

“Why are you so interested in him? What are you planning to do with him?”

“Do?” He looked taken aback by the question, maybe even a little insulted. His mouth twisted into a grim smile. “I see the rumors have wasted no time in reaching you.”

“What rumors?”

“That I’m an evil mad scientist, and I spirit away children to my secret laboratory to run tests and experiments on them.”

“Well?” Hannah asked. “Are they true?”

“No.”

“Why should I believe you?”

He seemed to think about it a moment, but then sighed. “Honestly, from your perspective I can’t really think of a good reason.”

“Neither can I.” She started walking.

He fell into step beside her. “Nevertheless, I am your doctor, Miss Jordan. Your brother’s, too. I’m going to need to know your medical history. If your brother’s never been vaccinated, we need to take care of that, and soon.” When she kept walking, he grabbed her elbow, not ungently. “Miss Jordan—”

“Don’t touch me!” Hannah jerked her arm out of his grasp and spun to face him, bringing her hands up defensively as she fell into ready stance.

Konstantin backed up a step, holding his hands up in a gesture of acquiescence. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Slowly, he lowered his hands and ventured a step toward her. Hannah kept her hands raised. “Look,” he said, “you asked me to get you your brother. That’s what I’m trying to do. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

Hannah shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

The doctor gave her a long, sad look. Then he nodded. “I know.” His eyes filled with determination as he leaned in and said, with a low voice, “But you will.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he seemed to think better of it. With a slight shake of his head, he turned and walked back the way they had come.

Hannah didn’t let her guard down, but remained tense and alert as she hurried back to her cell. When she reached it, she found that the lower bunk had been made up for her, and some basic toiletries sat on the little shelf over the sink. Her own clothes lay neatly folded on the top bunk next to the spare jumpsuit and a pair of towels. She would have to remember to thank Louise for all of this the next time she saw her.

She sat on the bottom bunk, and looked around at the dismal little cell. Beyond the bars, she could hear the low buzz of murmuring voices, fellow survivors who had already become accustomed to this life, going about their business. It already felt like her time here had been endless. Only yesterday, she had been going about life in the shelter, caring for Noah and holding him in her arms. She thought about what Dr. Konstantin had said, and wondered if there was any way she could possibly trust him. She could use an ally, and she had a feeling he would make a powerful one, if he was true to his word. But he had yet to demonstrate that he could be trusted, and blind faith could get her and Noah both killed. Or worse, if those rumors about him really were true.

She got up and shut herself inside the cell, wondering how much she could count on the bars to keep the guards out if any of them decided they wanted in. She turned out the light and climbed onto the top bunk, where out the tiny window she could see the maximum security section rising against the sky. Tomorrow, she resolved, she would find a way up there, and get the lay of the land.

She pushed the clean laundry out of the way and lay down beside it, determined to stay awake and keep an eye on the cell door throughout the night. But the trouble with staying awake was that it gave her time to think, a luxury she hadn’t had since leaving the shelter. The events of the last couple of days had been overwhelming, and she’d never really had a chance to process any of it. It was like she’d somehow crossed over into another universe where nightmares all came true. Her old life, like her parents, was gone, and she was never getting it back. Her home, her college, her friends, her country... none of it existed anymore. All she had left in the whole world was her baby brother, and she didn’t even know that for certain. She suddenly missed him, missed everything, with an ache that hadn’t filled her so completely since that first night in the shelter.

Hannah reached down to the bottom bunk and grabbed a pillow. She curled up around it and buried her face in it to muffle the sobs that she couldn’t keep shut up any longer.

SEVEN

Another bell rang, and Hannah opened her eyes. She woke up in the same position she’d fallen asleep in, curled up in a ball and clutching her damp pillow.

She heard movement outside, and as people started filing past her cell, she sat up and rubbed her face. It felt puffy from crying. Her eyes stung, and her throat felt raw. Her head hurt, too, and all of her joints felt stiff. This was why she rarely let herself cry. It never made things any better, and it always left her feeling like hell.

Noticing that the people outside her cell all carried towels, she figured it must be shower time. As much as she didn’t relish the thought of being crammed into that shower room with dozens of other women and no privacy, that didn’t change the fact that a hot shower was just what she needed. She got up, grabbed her towel and a clean jumpsuit along with the toiletries Louise had left for her, and filed into line.

At breakfast, she found Phyllis in her usual spot. “Morning,” Hannah said as she sat down in what was becoming her usual spot.

“Hey. So how’d you sleep?”

“Not that great. I woke up with a headache.”

Phyllis nodded, as if that was to be expected. “The first night here’s always the hardest. You can go to the infirmary to get something for your headache. But not until after your contribution to the blood bank. They don’t give out any meds before. They don’t want it tainting the supply.”

Hannah picked up her fork and dug into her breakfast of scrambled eggs and a sliced tomato. “Where do they get this food?”

“It’s one of Doctor Creepy’s pet projects. They say he runs a farm with human slave labor. I guess the kids that survive his experiments are put to work on it.”

Taking another bite, Hannah paused with the fork halfway to her mouth and frowned in dismay at her food. “That’s horrible.” She set her fork down, suddenly not having much of an appetite, and shook her head. “It’s so hard to believe, too, when you talk to him. He comes off like he actually cares.”

“I’m sure he does care, in the same way a farmer cares about his livestock.” Phyllis took another bite of her breakfast, undeterred by where it had come from. “But don’t be fooled,” she mumbled around a mouthful of eggs. “He’s a vampire.” She swallowed before continuing. “As far as I’m concerned, the only difference between him and those things outside is that he still has the smarts to use his medical training. He’s still the walking dead. And he still sees us as food.”

Hannah knew she was right, but it was still hard to believe that was all he thought about when he looked at her so intently. Had his plea for her to trust him last night been nothing more than trying to calm a frightened animal that was destined for the slaughterhouse?

She gave a start when a loud buzzer sounded overhead. “Speaking of which,” muttered Phyllis as the sharp whistle of feedback came over the loudspeaker.

A moment later, a voice announced, “Residents with last names beginning with the letter F through the letter K, report to the infirmary at once. Again, that’s letters F through K. Report to the infirmary.”

Phyllis gave her a sympathetic look. “It’s nothing to be afraid of,” she reminded her. “It’s just like any other blood drive.” She glanced down at Hannah’s unfinished breakfast, and pointed with her fork. “You can finish that first if you want, but then you’ll end up at the back of the line. If you go now, you’ll be able to get it over with faster.”

Hannah grimaced. It wasn’t giving blood that bothered her, it was who she was giving it to, and what they’d be doing with it. But as long as they had Noah, she had no choice but to go along. Grudgingly, she slid her plate over to Phyllis and got up. “It’s all yours.”