Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness Ch.15
Title: Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness
By: Pink Rabbit Productions
Chapter: 15
Date: 19 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 |
Afterworld:
Into the Arms of Darkness
Chapter 15
They got more than a few minutes. They got almost an hour.
An hour during which they focused on nothing but Emma's drawing and the fascination with capturing the wild ducks in the photograph.
An hour during which Olivia could almost ignore the ache in her left hand and arm, or pretend it was nothing more serious than a pending heart attack.
At some point, not very many minutes into their time together, she felt a quick prick in her upper arm and looked up as Natalia slipped a needle free. It was tempting to throw a fit, start a fresh fight and maybe beat the tar out of the little twit for her presumption.
But given the pain in her hand and the fact that the mere contemplation of trying to rise sent prickles of sweat down her back, success seemed highly unlikely.
Besides, her daughter was on her lap and lost in happy babble. And maybe if she was going to die, she was meant to have this one last wish.
So she didn't ask and Natalia didn't intrude long enough to offer an explanation, just slipped away on little cat feet and left them to play, giving them the only gift she had to offer, time.
Which was fine by Olivia. Ms. Natalia might have it all in the not terribly distant future, but this tiny slice of her daughter's attention wasn't something she cared to share.
Natalia returned again a little while later, carrying a couple of sandwiches, peanut butter and grape jelly, the bread homemade and closer to hard tack than bread. Even at that, they tasted better than anything Olivia had eaten in ages. Peanut butter was a pretty common food in the SUV life. It was high caloried, protein-dense and didn't spoil at room temperature. Bread and jam on the other hand were nonstarters. Unspoiled bread simply wasn't available any longer and jelly wasn't a good space investment for its nutritional value.
Emma ignored the food and for once, Olivia didn't push. There would be time enough for lectures on keeping her weight and strength up later. Now the time together was more important. So she kept one hand around her daughter and ate with the other.
Natalia sank to a sitting position just inside the door, her back against the wall, knees upthrust, and simply watched them.
Hyper-aware of that sharp gaze, Olivia fought to keep her head from bobbing and her hands from shaking, but the symptoms of a failing body were there all the same. And as she finished the sandwich it occurred to her that as good as it had tasted, once it was down it felt like a lead weight in the bottom of her stomach.
Not a good sign.
As if she'd heard that thought, Natalia pushed to her feet and disappeared again, returning only moments later this time, to hand Olivia a glass of water and a palmful of colorful pills. Stomach knotting with indecision, Olivia stared at them for a long beat. Apparently, she hadn't surrendered quite as thoroughly as she thought. An acid comment lay on the tip of her tongue.
For once, she stifled the urge.
Nothing to shake the precarious peace of the moment.
She suddenly realized that Emma had stopped talking and turned to peer up at both of them.
"They're antibiotics...different ones from the shot," Natalia said very softly as though she understood Olivia's hesitancy. "I waited...left you alone as long as I could, but..."
But it was now or never. Olivia understood the message, but she also had it in her to wonder if the younger woman had seen the advancing redness and twitchiness in her left hand and made the hard decision to put her out of her misery. She almost asked Emma again if she really trusted her, but held off. That was too much to put on any child, even one who'd survived so much with so much grace.
Whatever her choice, it was all on her.
She was holding the water glass in her right hand, the pills in her left, so when she stared at the collected tumble of colors, it was impossible to miss the sight of flaming, damaged flesh.
No question now. Not a goddamned boot print.
Looking up, she met the worried gaze watching her. She saw sorrow and fear and the remnants of too many losses, but nothing approaching cruelty or a sense of threat. It surprised her to realize she didn't suspect Natalia of any kind of revenge motive. If she was being "put-down," there was no doubt in her mind, it was meant as a kindness.
And that was after everything they'd both said and done. Hell, maybe the woman was the reincarnation of Mother Theresa if she could forgive all that. Then again, maybe she was too-though it certainly wasn't among the many accusations that had been directed at her during her life-because she suddenly couldn't hate Natalia the way some logical part of her suggested she should.
Finally, with a small nod, she tossed the pills back and swallowed. They caught at the base of her throat for the briefest second, a heavy lump that fought going down, offering a last chance to back out. It took a conscious decision. A ripple of throat muscles and then it was too late. She felt them slide down and hit her stomach. Probably explained the sudden need to feed her. A lot less chance of it all coming up again with a bit of a cushion.
She heard Emma's tiny whimper and felt the warm press as her daughter burrowed into her shoulder in search of comfort.
Even perfect moments always came to an end.
Pressing a soft kiss to the top of her daughter's head, Olivia snuggled her close. "You're gonna be okay, baby," she whispered raggedly, while making no promises for herself. She suddenly found herself wondering if the shooting pains really were nothing more than a simple heart attack, because her chest felt hollow and there was an ache behind her sternum that seemed to pound in rhythm with her suddenly sluggish pulse.
"Hey, Emma," Natalia said as she gently ruffled the girl's hair.
Olivia noticed that dark eyes were serious and worried as they watched her carefully.
"I think maybe your mommy's getting kinda tired... Why don't we help her get back to bed so she can get some rest."
Olivia wanted to fight it, insist that she was fine-thank-you-very-much, and spend every last possible second with her daughter. Only it suddenly occurred to her that the ache had spread everywhere and it was getting harder to breathe.
And maybe seeing those seconds wouldn't be a kindness to her child.
Emma twisted in her arms, peering up at her with wide, scared eyes. "Mommy?"
Tucking a gentle finger under her daughter's chin, Olivia offered her best version of a reassuring smile. "It's been a long couple of days," she murmured softly.
Emma wasn't stupid. Olivia could see in her eyes that she understood what the break in their time together might signal. Despite the desperate desire to reassure her child, she'd made a firm pact not to lie, so she just kissed her forehead, and whispered, "It's probably for the best."
Moving carefully, as though she might do some additional damage, Emma slipped off her lap and laid her drawings aside.
Natalia dropped to a crouch, clearly ready to help her stand, but Olivia waved her off. If she was going out, she was damned certain she'd go in style and not leaning on anyone else. She'd spent a lifetime on her own, needing nothing and no one. Now wasn't the time to change the rules.
Only the world swirled crazily around her as she pushed upright and she damn near went right back down. Exhaustion, concussion, impending doom, or a combination of all three, but if it made Ms. Natalia-Whoever feel better to put a supportive hand under her arm, well, Olivia wasn't up for another fight, especially over something so trivial. "On James," she drawled, unable to resist the urge to throw out a small taunt. A hint of smile curved her mouth as she felt the other woman tense and heard her tiny huff of irritation.
An unexpected surge of lightness slid through her. Half dead and she still had it. She was Olivia "Freakin'" Spencer. And no dumbass, undead motherfucker was going get the better of her. She flashed a quick look at her escort. No self-righteous, shotgun-wielding prudes either.
Then her gaze fell on the small, frightened figure of her daughter and the rush of emotion knocked the bravado right out of her. Whatever the consequences for her, if anything went wrong, it would be a hundred times worse for Emma. She was startled when a hand patted her upper arm, the contact clearly intended to be soothing.
"She'll be okay. I'll make sure of it."
She turned a suspicious look toward the other woman, an instant surge of jealousy and fury over the unfairness of it all twisting her guts into tight knots. "I'm not dead yet," she snapped angrily.
Natalia flinched and Olivia could see the desire to snarl back reflected in dark eyes, but the younger woman momentarily pinned her lower lip between gleaming incisors, then shook her head, apparently deciding against whatever response went through her head.
It made Olivia feel small and petty, which was an odd thing for a possibly dying person, but this woman had offered to care for the only thing left in her life that meant anything. She understood too well the weight of responsibility being accepted, knew too the fear and exhaustion that came with it. To take that on voluntarily was no small thing.
And a part of her hated Natalia that she might get the opportunity even as she was agonizingly grateful for her daughter's sake.
The rest of the journey back to her hospital-room-cum-cell took place in silence, the only sound, her ragged breathing as it occurred to her that getting bitten by zombies, having the crap beat out of her by thugs, and having a couple of knock-down-drag-out fights with a dark lady within the last twenty-four hours was probably a bit much. Even her hair felt like it had bruises.
When they reached the bed, she sank down with a grateful sigh, sitting on the edge, head down as she breathed deeply in an effort to control the pain throbbing through just about every nerve ending in her body. A wave of blue washed across her vision, momentarily wiping the world away and threatening to tip her onto the floor.
So very not good.
"Mommy?" Emma whispered, her voice small and thready with fear.
"I'm okay, sweetie," Olivia smoothed things over even as she comforted herself it wasn't quite a lie. Besides, maybe they'd had enough truth for one day. She caught a small hand in hers. "Just a little winded...and maybe a little extra sleepy," she added as she tipped her head up to peer at Natalia in time to see her cheeks pink with a guilty flush.
The young woman had retrieved several plastic zip ties, but was standing perfectly still, visibly uncertain what to do.
Despite the temptation to start another fight-they left her feeling almost alive-Olivia knew it would go easier on Emma if she didn't have to see her mom being tied up like the local rabid dog. Cupping her hand along Emma's cheek, she drew her head up until their eyes met. "Y'know what I'd really love, Jellybean?" she said with a tender smile. "If you could hang a couple of works of art on the wall there...where I can see them."
Emma's gaze swung back and forth between the adults as though she suspected she was being left out of the loop in some way, but finally she nodded. "I'll go get 'em."
"There's tape in the drawer the crayons were in," Natalia called to the girl's retreating back.
Holding her hands out, Olivia fought the urge to start throwing punches. "Do it," she snarled. "Before she gets back...so she doesn't see..." She didn't finish, instead changing subjects to avoid the urge to scream in protest. "Slipped me a mickey along with the antibiotics, didn't you?" she demanded, comfortably certain she was going down too quickly for it to be entirely natural. She was fading, but not that fast.
"Just a mild sedative." Natalia made no effort to deny the charge even as she looped a zip tie around Olivia's right wrist and pulled it far enough to lock it in place. "I thought about asking, but..." She shook her head slowly. "It would have just made things harder...and to have any chance, you need to give your body time to heal."
She was gentle enough. Olivia was willing to give Natalia credit for that. The young woman worked quickly as she slipped the other tie through the first, then wrapped it around her left wrist. She pulled them both tight enough to make escape impossible, but not so much that the plastic cut her skin.
As she watched, a flicker of memory teased Olivia's senses; a sepia-toned image of fighting to stay awake as the world ebbed and flowed and this woman towered over her. They'd been here before. Not the same, but not so different. "Gave me something last night too...didn't you?" she asked in a sudden burst of insight. That had come with a needle prick, not neatly taken pills. She could almost see the syringe in those long, fine-boned hands.
Natalia winced and heaved a sigh, but didn't pause as she grabbed a first aid kit and began to treat Olivia's injured hand. "After I got things locked down...you seemed to come around...you were babbling, but you didn't fight me when I got you in here...and then suddenly you started swinging at me and screaming." She squeezed a healthy measure of antibiotic cream onto the bite marks, then started to wrap the hand in gauze. "I was terrified you'd..."
"Bring every dead thing up the stairs," Olivia finished for her when she didn't continue, thinking as she did so that getting information out of this woman was a little too much like pulling teeth for her comfort.
Natalia nodded. "Rick had left the syringes for..." Again, she didn't finish. "It doesn't matter..." She tipped her chin up, fixing a hard gaze on her prisoner. "I did what I thought was best and I'd do it again." For just a second, the wall cracked and her expression showed sick horror. "It was either that or..."
In a rare fit of kindness, Olivia again spared her the weight of continuing. "Or kill me," she finished for the other woman, oddly comforted by the tiny nod she got in reply. She'd have been more worried if Natalia had either tried to lie or hadn't thought of that solution. Nauseous and exhausted, she looked down, watching the mechanical process as her hand was wrapped in pale gauze, hiding the vicious redness from view. Suddenly, she tipped her head up, terror in her eyes. "Don't let me end like that...that poor...child..." she begged raggedly, unable to escape the sudden image of the barred crib that appeared in her head. "Don't do that to Emma...let her see me like that..."
"I won't," Natalia promised.
Emma's footsteps outside the bedroom door forced the conversation to a halt.
"Hey, Jellybean," Olivia invited as she saw the small face peering into the room. Tugging the sheet across her hands and body, she carefully hid her bound wrists from view.
"How about you hang those right here?" Natalia suggested as she pointed at a blank space on the wall that was easily visible from the bed. "That way your mom can see them any time."
The next few minutes were involved with getting the three drawings the girl had brought arranged just right, but finally there was no way to delay any further.
And Olivia could feel herself getting weaker and sleepier. Wetting her lips, she tried to find a voice to say something, but words wouldn't come. The world swept in and out of focus like she was caught on a swinging pendulum.
This time it was Natalia who committed the kindness of filling in a blank. "Hey, Em," she said gently when Emma seemed about to try and find an excuse to readjust her drawings yet again. "I think your mommy's getting pretty sleepy..."
Olivia sleepily noted the way Natalia petted auburn hair with a gentle hand, drawing the girl's attention when she might have tried to pretend she didn't hear. Her heart twisted a little as she realized the other woman was already figuring out how to handle her daughter with a light hand. Emma was a good kid, but given orders, she could turn defiant. Better to explain and let her follow the logic.
"But-"
"How about you draw some more ducks, so you'll have something to show her when she wakes up," Natalia suggested gently.
Green eyes that Olivia knew were a mirror of her own, swung her way, only she didn't think she'd ever looked that young and scared in her life. Or if she had, it had been more years ago than she cared to count.
No, Emma wasn't stupid at all. She knew her mother's chances of waking up-at least as her mother-weren't good at all.
She sat up enough to absorb the impact of her daughter's small, solid body. Twisting her hands inside the makeshift cuffs, she gained enough play to get a hand partially around Emma's upper body. A single, hard sob shook the girl. "Shhhh," she soothed as she pressed her cheek against silky hair. She flicked a quick glance at the woman standing a short distance from the bed, just long enough to take in her stricken expression. "Listen to me, okay, Em," she said when she finally spoke, her attention returning fully to her child. Leaning back, she shifted her hands enough to draw a small chin up. "I don't know what's going to happen...but I do know that I'm gonna fight with everything I have..." Smoothing her thumb along her daughter's cheek, she rubbed at the trail of tears tracking over her skin. "But right now, the best way for me to do that is to rest...and I can only do that if I know that you're safe." And being with her might not be safe at all. She kissed Emma's forehead softly. "So Natalia's right...the best way for you to help right now is to draw the prettiest things you can think of...okay?"
She'd never been more proud of her child than in that moment because Emma drew herself together and slowly stepped back. Her eyes were open pools of pain and fear, but she managed a stiff, trembling nod. Her tongue darted out, wetting dry lips, and she swallowed hard, but finally managed to rasp, "I'll draw the pond...'n' the ducks...'n' even the cow...so you have to wake up to see it." And then she spun and ran out, though Olivia could hear the tiny gasping sob she couldn't quite hide.
Shit. Just when life doesn't seem like it can get any worse, she thought, it finds a way to add a little extra kick in the teeth. Scrubbing at a trickle of tears she couldn't quite hold back, she collapsed onto the bed, then glanced over at her...what the hell was the woman to her anyway? Enemy, jailer, competition, cohort, ally, friend?
Whatever she was, she was crying softly, her expression shattered.
Then Olivia looked down again, seeing the red creeping out from under the edges of the gauze in bright streaks to run up her forearm and out to the tips of her fingers. "Everything you need is in the SUV," she said abruptly, needing to get the words out before the darkness creeping at the edges of her vision took over. The time to keep secrets and hold things back was officially over.
Because she just might not wake up. At least not as Olivia Spencer, ass-kicking, bitch-on-wheels, business mongrel. And if she didn't wake up that way, she just prayed she didn't wake up at all.
She felt the confused, curious gaze that swung her way without looking up. "There are maps with marked routes and notebooks with everything you'll need to know. Emma can help you. She knows it almost as well as I do." She'd worked with her daughter, helped her memorize everything she needed to know in case they were separated or lost the printed data. Then she looked up, pinning the other woman in place with a hard gaze. "It's all there...plus weapons and ammo. There's food, but you'll need to restock the water."
"I don't underst-"
"I don't have much time here," Olivia barked, pushing the darkness back in her desperation to get out what she needed to say. "The engine's a modified diesel. It'll run on diesel, bio-fuel, or goddamned used cooking oil if you strain it."
Natalia stepped closer, leaning down into her space, her expression openly doubting, clearly thinking she was having some kind of break with reality. "Olivia, maybe you should---"
"The fuel tanks are almost full. That's at least 300 miles..." Olivia wanted to scream at her to shut up and just listen, wanted to make her swear to do right by Emma because she was being entrusted with the most precious thing in the world, or maybe just wanted to beg her to love her child because that was what mattered most. But the darkness was washing in and out, threatening to drag her out to sea, and what she had to say was too damned important. "Everything you need is there...you just have to...just have to get her there...thought Phillip could help us get there...bring his other kids too...but..." She shook her head slowly, feeling like her brain was sloshing with the movement. Her hand hurt like hell, and the rest of her body was in no better shape.
"What are you-"
"It's safe..." Olivia exhaled as the blue swept across the world in a wave. "...a safe place..."
Then the blue turned to black and she faded away....
* * * * * *
TBC