Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness Ch.48
Title: Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness
By: Pink Rabbit Productions
Chapter: 48
Date: 27 December, 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 | 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 |
Author's Note: Once again, many thanks for all the replies and words of support. They are definitely appreciated and helpful.
Author's Note #2: Mention of rape and sexual manipulation. If this is going to bother you, please be careful.
Afterworld:
Into the Arms of Darkness
Chapter 48
Her touch was velvet, her voice warm honey and her body all curves, welcoming softness and slick heat. "Wake up."
"You-you're here." The muted comment was mix of pained, disbelieving, hopeful, and afraid.
"Of course," came the silky whisper that teased and seduced as gentle fingers combed through sleep-mussed hair.
"B-but-"
"Where else would I be?" The question was asked in a lover's voice made of equal parts of adoration and lust. "If you're here, I'm here."
"B-but Olivia said you hated me." Jeffrey shook his head slowly, blinking slowly as he stared at the lanky brunette looming over him in a dress meant for sin and a body ready for the taking. He'd been ignoring the others-all the women who'd wronged him with their unfair accusations-for what seemed like days, but she was different. She was his daughter. He pushed off the chill and lassitude as he struggled to respond. "That you never wanted to see me again."
He felt his heart slug toward something approaching a normal beat as Ava smiled, a slow, wanton expression that sent heat and sweat sliding over his skin.
"She always lies," his daughter reminded him as she trailed soft fingers down his cheeks, then the plane of his upper chest. "You know that...after all the lies she told about you...how you hurt her...and terrorized her...when she was the one who ruined your life." Ava leaned closer, smiling at him with pride and hunger. "As if a man like you would ever need to rape a whore like her."
"You do understand then," Jeffrey whispered raggedly. "She wanted it...wanted me-" Just like all the others who'd unfairly blamed him when he took what they offered.
"Of course I understand," Ava assured him. Resting her elbows on his shoulders, she leaned impossibly close, her expression all sex and sin. "I love you."
He felt the familiar, forbidden burn, rich and increasingly pleasant as it smoldered lower with every passing moment.
Then suddenly the sweet pleasure morphed into searing agony that left Jeffrey feeling like he'd been immersed in boiling oil. Rolling onto his stomach, he bit into his forearm to keep from screaming, but nearly had to let go as pain-driven nausea tore through him.
In that instant, he remembered everything: Reva, dead, but not forgiving, the sound of tearing flesh, the feel of his own blood draining away, scrambling and falling into the house where he'd first seen Olivia, then barely managing to kick the door shut in Reva Shayne's face. As he hit the floor, he'd felt several sharp stabs on his thighs and chest-the needles from the autoinjectors taped to his skin driving deep then releasing drugs into his system. Originally intended for use against nerve agents, they were designed to be activated by the pressure of a falling body, so the user didn't need to be conscious to use them. He didn't really know what was in them beyond the notion that they were supposed to help if bitten, but surely they also included some kind of painkiller because he remembered the way the pleasant lassitude had slid over him. Rapture of the dead.
They'd apparently worn off while he was unconscious. Good god, he missed them too.
"You have to fight it, Daddy," Ava whispered in his ear, her voice penetrating the pain as though it were already inside his own skull. "Get ready for when she comes."
Whimpering, he shook his head. The evil bitch had been his undoing every time. First at sixteen when she'd whined to the police and gotten him banished from the civilized world and cost him his own face, then again when he'd tried to use Ava to take revenge, then in D.C., and now in this bit of hell. He heard and felt the rattle of papers in his pocket. Useless now. One more failure to go with all the others, one more time she'd beaten him just when he'd thought he had her.
Pure torment rolled over him in waves that surged and crested, then surged again. Ravaged by agony, he was distantly aware of Ava's touch as she combed fingers through his hair and whispered pornographic suggestions in his ear. Her efforts to offer comfort and motivation only worsened the misery as her words drew blood to missing and ruined flesh.
"I wish I could be surprised."
Jeffrey heard his father's voice mocking his pain. He risked a quick glance and had to bite back on a scream as he saw the old man towering over him, attired in his tux and tails, a martini in on hand, disdain in his eyes and looking like he'd stepped straight out of a vintage James Bond film.
"Still a nasty, little thug," his father pronounced disgustedly. "Though it appears you're rather the worse for the wear this time."
Jeffrey would have screamed at him, but it took everything he had just to keep breathing. The autoinjectors were all blown, so no more pain meds to ward off the misery. He tried to find a breath and clear his thinking, but Ava was still petting his hair, while his father smirked at him.
"He isn't half the man you are," Ava assured him.
His father chuckled at that. His gaze dropped lower and his mouth twitched into a grim smile. "Actually, I'd say I'm at least twice these days," he drawled knowingly.
"Just about everyone is," a a new voice joined in, then Reva giggled at his plight.
"Shut the fuck up," Jeffrey snarled, hating her now just as much as he had when he was on top of her. Smug, self-righteous bitch. All moral and in his face when she was no better. Just like her priggish, judgmental husband. They both deserved everything they got. "You shoulda been thankin' me...not like any other man in town was gonna fuck you."
Reva snorted her disdain. "Well, I just know that every other man in town would've done a better job of it," she taunted. "Probably most of the women too." She laughed again.
He screamed at her, but no sound came out, then he fell back to the floor, suddenly aware of the stick and stench of blood everywhere.
His blood. He wondered how the hell he could be alive when there was so much of it.
"Don't think about it, Daddy," Ava implored as she clung to him from behind, making him aware of all the pleasures of the flesh that he'd missed since Olivia had thrown a monkey wrench into their relationship. "The only thing you need to concentrate on is getting stronger, so you'll be ready to face her when she comes."
He collapsed back into the drying puddle of his own blood. Right, Olivia. She'd come for him. She always did.
But for once, he'd be ready for her...
* * * * * *
Exhausted after a night of precious little sleep and entirely too many thoughts, Olivia was quiet over breakfast and Emma's lessons. Despite her best efforts, she kept replaying the conversation from the night before. Over and over she heard Natalia's quick insistence that she couldn't leave.
Too quick. She'd known what was coming, Olivia realized in retrospect, and for whatever reason, maybe just her son, maybe more, it wasn't something she could remotely consider.
It hurt. Sweet Jesus, it hurt. Even hours later, Olivia could still feel the gut-punch of emotion that had swept over her in response to the panicked denial. Her skin ran hot, then cold and her stomach churned with nausea. Massaging the space between her eyebrows, she tried to chase away a growing headache without much success.
The worst part of it was she knew it was the right thing. There was no room to spare in the SUV, no food to spare on the road. Most days she could barely keep herself and Emma from starvation and dehydration.
And yet, there was a whispering, traitorous side of her swearing that if Natalia had agreed, they would have found a way, that another set of hands and eyes would increase Emma's chance of survival, that the support and caring would have made them all stronger, that maybe Natalia could work her magic with food and getting Emma to eat even on the road.
That maybe she could survive a little longer if she wasn't so damned alone.
All of which was completely moot. Natalia had said no. She had her life here amid the aimless spirits of her old neighbors, waiting for a son who was undoubtedly long dead, living in her cozy little attic smack dab in the middle of the world's largest cemetery where the dead didn't know enough to lie down.
That lived in the house that Jack built, the sarcastic thought went through Olivia's head before she could stop it and she had to fight a flinch over the insanity of it all.
She would have run if she could have.
Unfortunately, she was still prone to random bouts of dizziness, had the stamina of a two-day-old kitten, and periodically found herself staring at dust particles. Not that those factors were the real reason why she couldn't run.
Her gaze swung to touch on the slender figure standing in the doorway silently watching her with a serious expression. She was achingly beautiful, all soft curves and smooth flesh that invited a body to get lost in them.
Olivia swallowed hard, hunting for something to say that didn't include begging. Natalia deserved that much from her. Thankfully, Emma was down for an afternoon nap. She would have picked up on the tension and the poor kid didn't need any more of that in her life.
So pushing any dark thoughts aside, she took a deep breath and drew a breath to offer something deliberately bland and non-controversial.
And abruptly realized that Natalia had something in hand.
A shotgun.
Instantly, any minor elements like love, sex, and lifetime devotion were forgotten and Olivia was all feral grace and raw threat. With weapons came threat, and nothing was going to hurt what was hers. "What's happened?" Her tone was sharp, her eyes hard.
"Nothing," Natalia responded. She held up a hand to forestall Olivia's rampage. "Nothing's wrong."
That was a lie if Olivia had ever heard one. Drawing closer, she rested a hand on the barrel of Natalia's weapon. "Nothing doesn't require a shotgun," she said brusquely, her look silently challenging Natalia to argue.
The smaller woman flinched, but didn't disagree as she gnawed on her lower lip.
"Natalia...what's going on?" Olivia questioned, softening her voice ever so slightly.
Slim shoulders slumped and the younger woman reached up to massage her temple. "If the reavers didn't destroy it all, there should still be food at Blake's place," she said softly.
"Okay," Olivia exhaled. They were running painfully low. There were still the MREs in the SUV, but she wanted to avoid getting into them if possible since they were ideal for travel. So getting any leftovers made sense, but there was more. Olivia could see it in dark eyes, so she simply waited.
"And I need to...to take care of her," Natalia stammered after a long beat.
Olivia glanced out the nearest window where a zed could be seen wandering at ground level. "Not exactly good grave digging weather," she pointed out practically. Standing outside, making lots of shoveling noises was pretty much a suicide pact.
Natalia shook her head. "There's a place...in the basement...where Josh broke up the cement. We did it in every house," she added.
Olivia understood instantly. Outdoor graves had become too dangerous, so Josh had built a cemetery space into each house. Welcome to the new architectural standards. "Okay," she exhaled at last. She reached for her own weapons. "We can do that." It wouldn't be easy, but she supposed she owed the dead woman that much, and she owed Natalia far more.
"No," Natalia said instantly, then flinched under the hard look Olivia directed her way. "You're still hurt...and I put you through too much yesterday." She shook her head. "I can handle it...and you need to rest."
Olivia shook her head, refusing to be put off. "You're not going over there alone-"
"I know what I'm doing," Natalia snapped impatiently, clearly irritated by Olivia's protectiveness. "I've done it dozens of times-"
"When the dead were this riled up and restless?" Olivia demanded. "And there might be a pissed off mercenary in the area?"
Natalia pulled up short and her gaze dropped as she worried her lower lip with sharp incisors. She shook her head after a long moment, silently surrendering the point.
"Okay," Olivia exhaled, relieved the fight had gone easier than she expected. Letting the younger woman go out there alone simply wasn't an option she was willing to tolerate. Seeing the tension in Natalia's body language, she reached out without planning to and drew her head up until their gazes locked and held. "We'll do this together," she said very softly as she absently stroked Natalia's cheek with the pad of her thumb. "I just...I need to know you're safe," she whispered after another beat and leaned closer, giving way to impulse a little. "And I can't do that waiting here...wondering if you're okay...or..." She didn't finish. Couldn't finish. The possibilities were too horrifying.
"I understand," Natalia whispered, looking away for a long moment before turning her attention back to Olivia. "But don't you see," she struggled to get the words out, "I just want to keep you safe too..."
* * * * * *
TBC