Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness Ch.23
Title: Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness
By: Pink Rabbit Productions
Chapter: 23
Date: 30 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 | Chapter 22 |
Afterworld:
Into the Arms of Darkness
Chapter 23
Invisible hands touched and slid over her skin to a chorus of carnal sounds and appreciative murmurs, sliding this way and that, holding her and blocking any attempt at escape. And when she tried to slap them away, they only laughed and grabbed again with more strength and taloned claws that dug into soft flesh until she cried out in pain.
"Why fight them...you know you love it..."
Words that never should have been uttered by any parent coupled with a tone of such disdain that it was impossible to imagine there ever had been or could be any love from the speaker.
"...even at sixteen...panting after the first man who looked at you."
Olivia Spencer was in hell.
And her mother was narrating the nightmare journey.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught glimpses of horns and tails and flashing pitchforks, but when she turned to look, nothing but darkness lay before her. She tried to move, tried to escape only to find the way barricaded while hands still the hands touched and grabbed and tried to lay claim.
"Can't blame it on anyone else," her mother taunted. "Only yourself." She sneered. "You know you wanted him...wanted it...loved it all..."
"I didn't," she whimpered, wanting to defend herself from the disgusting charge that she'd willingly surrendered herself to that nightmare act.
She could feel the flames licking at her body and hear the whispers of every insult and cruel word ever spoken to her like a fire in brain.
Then the fingers that clung and pressed, took form, melding into tan hands and a muscular body that pinned and moved. She refused him, rejected his advances, but he didn't stop, didn't even slow.
He didn't care. Chuckling at her weakness, he took what he wanted.
And when she begged for help her mother only laughed, the sound blending with her rapist's mirth until the two became one.
"That is the worst thing that ever happened to me," he complained after he finished, his mouth twisted into a smirk, his tone bitterly self pitying.
Twisting away from him, Olivia reached out, hunting for someone, anyone, who would take her part.
For once a hand reached back, cool fingers brushed along her cheek as a woman's voice soothed, "Shhhh, you're safe now...just rest." And then the shadows retreated, reformed, then melded into the shape of a woman's face. Soft features framed by thick dark hair. Kind eyes. A full mouth. A dark angel, her mere presence enough to chase Olivia's tormentors back to the darkest corners of hell.
The dark lady was whispering something that sounded like a prayer, then holding a glass to Olivia's mouth while another hand at the back of her head lifted and added enough stability to let her drink. For a moment demon-fire receded as cool water slid down her throat. Then her angel was pushing pills into her mouth, telling her she needed them. She wanted to refuse, but pills came with more water to drive back some of the flames and she couldn't resist the temptation to swallow.
"Easy...I'll help you get all you want..."
Olivia drank until her stomach started to rebel, then turned her head away as her eyelids became too heavy to keep open.
"That's it," that gentle, heaven-sent voice soothed as a cool hand brushed her forehead and chased the flames away. "Just sleep."
For perhaps the first time in her life, Olivia actually did what someone told her.
* * * * * *
"Shhhh, it's all right...you're safe...just let go...sleep." Natalia's voice was little more than a breath, her fingers impossibly gentle as she petted auburn hair back from her patient's brow in slow, soothing strokes. She carefully eased her other hand from its position behind Olivia's head, settling it back on the pillow. A tiny emergency light sat on the nightstand, the lone LED casting a dim light that gave her just enough illumination to check on Olivia's vitals without risking being seen through the window by passer's-by. Not that there was much chance of anyone wandering through this area at night, but she'd learned to be cautious. The world was a dark place with the electricity off, making even the smallest of lights more easily spotted.
Olivia whimpered softly, and her eyes flickered behind her closed lids, but she sank into the mattress and sleep. Not a peaceful slumber. Her muscles twitched and danced just under the skin and her breathing was ragged and labored, but at least she wasn't fighting the bindings so hard.
Natalia raised a hand to the other's woman's wrist, heart breaking just a little as she noted the fresh abrasions where the ties had sawed against her skin.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. Petting soft bangs back from Olivia's forehead, she laid her wrist against soft flesh. Papery dry, but it felt like her fever was down. It had spiked to 105.7° and showed every sign that it would continue to climb. That was broaching very bad territory. Thankfully, opening a window to bring in a late-night breeze and washing her down seemed to have turned things around, stopped the rise before it got too dangerous.
Natalia took a moment to ease a small electronic thermometer between full lips. 103.6°. Back in the safety range. Rick's notes had warned about the fevers. They were a symptom of the second stage. If someone made it through the first hours and received treatment, they would eventually start spiking viciously high temperatures which were dangerous in and of themselves. Seizure, stroke, heart attack, aneurism, brain damage, even death could all lay in waiting if the body got too hot for too long.
If Rick was right, it was all just another symptom of a body fighting a massive bacterial infection.
According to his notes, human bites were bacterially virulent, at least to other humans. Add in a few days, weeks, or months and putrefying flesh to feed the bacteria and it was logical to believe the bacterial stew that resulted would be dangerously toxic.
And that toxic stew was what hit the human system, overwhelmed it, and shut a body down in hours if given the chance. But he was convinced that whatever it was that reanimated the dead, it was different from the infections that killed the living. The infections could be traced, cultured, studied. They were somewhat varied according to Rick's studies, but nothing terribly new or exciting. Something else was bringing people back and so far as Rick knew, it hadn't been discovered.
So he'd worried about the best way to keep the person alive in the face of massive infection and simply ignored the aftermath. Unfortunately, there was no word on the results. As far as she was concerned, his ideas were logical, but they were also untried and untested. They were also all she had.
His regime was fairly straightforward, bed rest, massive antibiotics, keep the patient hydrated as best possible, and fight the fever topically to keep it from doing damage.
She was doing all of that for Olivia and they were past the twenty-four hour mark. Outside, the sun had fallen and the moon risen. She glanced at her watch. Past midnight. Which meant she'd made it at least twenty-eight hours, and was still in the fight.
It gave Natalia a tentative flicker of hope.
"You have to fight this," she encouraged. "She needs you...and I..." She rubbed at a tear that escaped burning eyes. "I don't know if I can do this." She managed a watery smile as she considered the girl and her own emotional response. "That kid of yours...she's special..." She could hear the way her own voice quavered as she spoke, the fear threatening to overtake her. "...and I would do anything for her...but she needs the best and that...that's not me..."
She rose slowly and stood poised on the balls of her feet, half expecting Olivia to open her eyes and make some kind of pithy comment, but she only slept on.
No answers there.
Shaking off her fear, she moved to the window, breathing in the fresh evening breeze. The open window had allayed the stuffiness, making the bedroom almost pleasant. The days were still mostly warm and humid, but it was getting late enough in the season that the nights were comfortably cool. Easing the curtains aside, she peered out at the world below. A near full moon reflected enough light onto the familiar landscape that she could easily pick out well-known landmarks.
And the remains of well-known people. The worst of the crowd had thinned out, but several weren't leaving as quickly as she'd hoped, Josh and Reva among them-she could see their distinctive silhouettes moving amid the trees, Reva in the lead, Josh wandering along behind. That was likely to make life more difficult until things went back to normal.
Letting the curtain fall back into place, she turned away from the window and slipped out to check on Emma.
Sound asleep. She'd wakened long enough in the afternoon to draw for a bit, then allow herself to be bribed into a bit of dinner. The promise of a hostess cupcake had done the trick-Natalia was going to have to hunt down some more junk food soon. It wasn't exactly something she kept in large supply. After a brief sugar rush, Emma had crashed again a little after sunset and been asleep since. Without electricity, it was just as well. Batteries were too valuable to squander. The days ran from dawn to dusk now.
Needing to reassure herself, she watched Emma for awhile, then finally smoothed hand over her hair and pressed a light kiss to her temple. That done, she slipped out.
In her bedroom, she found Olivia asleep and feverish, the small tremors still moving through her muscles. Her temperature was already inching upward, but not yet in the danger zone.
She stretched slowly and was reminded of her own injuries. She was stiff and sore as hell. She worked her jaw, wincing as a runner of pain shot through a muscle in her neck. Olivia knew how to deliver a vicious elbow. Among other things, she thought as she noted the bruises and scratches on her forearms and felt the ache of several more on her chest and back.
Instinct told Natalia things were likely to get worse before they got better, but she had a few minutes, a little bit of a break. Maybe the last one for hours or even days. It was a tiny window, but she needed the time to take care of her own injuries. If she crashed, they were all in trouble.
First thing on the menu, a shower.
She paused momentarily, but Olivia was sleeping and she needed to be able to hear if there was a problem. She left the bathroom door open, peeling her shirt off as she went to turn on the water.
* * * * * *
The soft scents of soap and clean skin teased Olivia's senses, promising something. She wasn't even sure what. Peace, safety, surcease from the pain and fear.
She wanted to reach out, cling to that promise of something better, something kinder, something softer.
But how could she when the demons were still there, holding her back, their clinging hands pulling her back into to the darkness as they danced in her brain and laughed at her plight? One of them was wearing a crown tipped jauntily to one side. He laughed the hardest of them all.
And then Josh was there in white armor, driving them off, then holding her close, promising to love, honor, and cherish.
He left out the part about fucking Reva only six weeks after their wedding.
And when he was twined naked in bed with Reva, she couldn't miss the shape of the horns that had been hidden by his shiny, white helmet.
"Did you really think he would be your hero...that he could love you?" her mother whispered in her ear. "Especially after you stole him from his real wife?"
"He was divorced," Olivia tried to fight back, tried to find the way back to that sweet place, but her mother was barricading the way, and the only things she could smell were fire and brimstone and a teasing hint of Josh's cologne.
"There is no divorce in the eyes of God," her mother spat. "He just used you for sex...before he went back to her...the one he really loved."
At the same time, she heard Josh's voice somewhere in the distance. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I promise you, it'll never happen again." His skin was still damp with Reva's sweat.
"Oh, you got that part right," she snarled, shoving him away, her fury at the betrayal and broken promises washing anything decent away.
"As if anyone could love you," her mother taunted.
Jeffrey was still there, taking great joy at watching the aftermath of his handiwork, his mouth twisted into a thin, cruel smirk that taunted and mocked at the same time. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a spiked tail. One more demon pulling at her.
"Just sign here," another demon promised as he waved a contract under her nose, his eyebrows rising in a devilish slant, his pitchfork polished to a high sheen. He preened as she looked his way, and paced around her, eyeing every dip and curve with a wicked smile. "And he'll pay."
"I always knew you'd end up in the arms of the devil one day," her mother swore.
Her mother was about that. It was the devil who wanted her and was willing to do anything or destroy anyone to have her.
But it was the devil's son who held her, who defied his father's edict, and gave her a child.
And the devil's daughter who tried to kill her, then tried to kill her child, then finally killed herself.
"Pushed that sweet innocent to mortal sin," her mother growled in a voice thick with disgust. "She's burning in hell even now...and you'll burn with her."
As if on cue, the flames barely licking at her surged as if fed by a wave of pure oxygen, flaring up and wrapping around her, searing pale skin, driving her to scream and beg.
"Hell," her mother whispered, "exactly where you belong."
"No," Olivia whimpered. "Don't...please...don't..."
She heard the rasp as her mother drew a breath to hurl more insults, but before she could get a word out, an angel's voice interrupted, "Shhhh, it's all right...you're safe. No one's going to hurt you here."
And then, with a wave of her hand, she brought a cool rain. It slid over Olivia's skin, dousing the flames and driving back the demons. Her mother had always hated the rain and with a screech of frustrated rage, she retreated. A little peace at last...
* * * * * *
With her hair and body clean, her cuts and bruises treated and enough ibuprofen in her system to take down a moose, Natalia felt almost human. Stretched out in a battered easy chair she'd dragged over next to the bed, she wasn't supremely comfortable, but since Olivia had her bed, it was as good as things were likely to get.
She supposed she could have slept downstairs, but she never had. It wasn't just that it was less safe or that it would mean being farther from her new guests.
It wouldn't be right.
So she settled for the chair and the attendant backache.
Besides, it wasn't like she was really planning on getting a lot of sleep. The tiny emergency light provided just enough illumination to read by if she clipped it to her shirt pocket, so she went through Rick's notes, trying to assemble them into some kind of order and hunting for anything she might have missed.
As she read, she took careful notes of her own in a notebook where she also kept careful track of Olivia's condition. Rick had taught her that much. Write it all down. You won't remember the details and you might see patterns you'd otherwise miss.
It gave her something to concentrate on when she might have otherwise gone a little stir crazy. She'd gotten almost used to be being utterly alone, the fear so constant that she'd become numb to it. But now, she was feeling it again.
It was terrifying being alone in a room with a woman who might well die at any moment.
And after dying, would likely try and tear her throat out.
Intimidating any way you looked at it.
Finally, she laid aside the papers she'd been reading, or more correctly, staring at. She'd stopped really reading them on the fourth time through.
Or was it the fifth? She'd lost track.
Not that it mattered. There was nothing new to learn. At least not unless she could find a way to mend burned paper or clarify smudged ink.
"No," Natalia whispered softly, her voice raw with gritted determination. She wasn't going to let it happen.
Massaging her temple with slow strokes to drive back a headache, she leaned forward, silently watching Olivia. Her breathing was ragged, her body quivering in ways that were eerily unnatural.
She was stirring again, not awake, but not entirely asleep either.
Natalia reached out, holding her wrist against Olivia's forehead. She'd driven the fever back after her shower, but it was climbing again. She took her temperature. Back up over 104°.
Olivia whimpered softly as though even that tiny bit of contact stung.
"Shhh," Natalia soothed. "You're safe...it's all right." Retrieving the wet washcloth and bowl of water, she began washing Olivia's skin down in slow, gentle strokes.
But the pained sounds only grew worse and Olivia began fighting the bonds again, twisting her wrists this way and that as she mumbled incoherently. Her skin was deeply flushed and so hot Natalia half expected to see steam rising every time a fresh drop of water made contact.
Leaning closer, Natalia smoothed the washcloth down the length of Olivia's arms, then over her throat and chest in an effort to drive back some of the rising heat. As she worked, she felt the quake and ripple of solid muscle. It had started as small quivers, but was steadily worsening.
Another symptom?
It wasn't mentioned in Rick's notes, but they were so incomplete she had no way of knowing if she was looking at some unique, something Rick hadn't seen, or if those pages were among the destroyed ones.
She was still musing on the possible ramifications when Olivia suddenly gasped. Her head came up off the pillow and jade-green eyes snapped open.
Natalia expected to see hostility, but the look in the other woman's eyes was lost. Scared. "Easy," she whispered, resting a hand lightly on Olivia's chest when she seemed to be trying to rise.
"Emma," Olivia groaned. "I have to see her...make sure she's safe...that they haven't...hurt her..."
"She's fine, I promise," Natalia said instantly, leaving out any less pleasant details as she added, "She had dinner...did some drawing...and she's asleep now." She smoothed a hand over Olivia's brow, brushing dark hair back from her face. "She's safe...you're safe...just rest and try and get better. Sleep if you can."
Olivia shook her head, the movement jerky and uncoordinated. "I can't," she whispered raggedly, then shook her head again. "Don't make me," she pleaded. "You don't know what it's like."
Frowning, Natalia leaned closer, desperate to understand on the off chance she could find something that would help. "Tell me," she whispered, searching the other woman's face for clues to what was going on.
Olivia paused and her eyes fluttered closed as she was caught in some kind of internal struggle. For a moment, she was so still Natalia thought maybe she'd gone back to sleep.
"It's inside me..." she whispered suddenly, eyes snapping open to plead for some kind of salvation. "...they're inside me...taunting ...they know they're gonna win..." Her eyes rolled back and she strained at the ties, but they held fast. "The demons...trying to pull me down..." she told Natalia, her voice heart-breakingly small and sad. "I don't wanna end up in hell."
Natalia frowned. Hallucinations by the sound of it. Not real, but still scary as hell. "You won't," she tried to reassure the other woman.
"She told me I would," Olivia confessed, her eyes unfocused.
Whatever she was seeing, Natalia realized, it wasn't this room, maybe not even her. "Who?"
Olivia shook her head, expression twisting with terror. "She's here...they're all here...and it's so dark...and hot...God, it's so hot." Olivia blinked and seemed to focus for a moment, but it didn't last long. "I don't wanna go to hell."
"Listen to me," Natalia urged as she tucked a finger under Olivia's chin and drew her head around until their eyes met. "You are not going to hell." She said each word with careful emphasis. "No one who could raise the child you have...keep her safe...and healthy...and decent...in this world..." She felt the other woman starting to lose her hold on consciousness and hardened her voice, doing her best to penetrate the mental veil, so Olivia would take her reassurances with her into whatever nightmare landscape she was suffering through. "No one who could do all of that is going to hell..."
* * * * * *
TBC