Desolation, p.1
Desolation, page 1
DESOLATION
WORLD OF ANTHRAX
BOOK 3
ADRIENNE LECTER
Desolation
World of Anthrax #3
by Adrienne Lecter
Copyright © 2022 by Adrienne Lecter. All rights reserved.
http://adriennelecter.com
First edition: December 2022
Produced and published by Barbara Klein, 1140 Vienna, Austria
Edited by Marti Lynch
Cover design by S.Marko
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.
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DEDICATION
To M
Always.
1
It took them four days to let me out of my cell.
Four days in which I had nothing to do except stare at rough-hewn walls and the industrial concrete floor, let my fingers run over the iron bars, and wait for my body to purge the last dregs of the drugs from my system.
Withdrawal continued to be brutal.
It took me two days to reliably keep water down, and a third to trust my stomach enough to chance endlessly chewed, abysmally bland food. They tried to feed me more than just dry bread, but I straight up ignored the fruit, steamed veggies, and bowl of stew that Osprey brought to me on a tray he carefully put down in front of the bars of my cell and then pushed toward me with a stick.
Apparently, seeing me sit there—sweat pouring down my skin, grime sticking to every inch of me, muscle spasms wracking me, and my body obviously not up for more than dragging itself from one end of the cell to the other—screamed homicidal maniac to everyone.
At least he came by every few hours, and he stayed long enough to check in with me to see that I was still alive.
That counted for something.
For way more than he realized, I was sure, but I’d rather die than let him know—at least while they kept me locked away like a rabid animal.
I couldn’t entirely fault the Enclave’s powers that be for how they treated me.
I still did, but thinking rationally, they had a point.
Thankfully, I was free to utterly abscond with such concepts as rational thinking... for now.
How they treated me was my fault—in some aspects.
I had been stupid. Against better judgment, I’d trusted the guy who’d already proven to me I was—at best—an asset to him; at worst, little more than a pawn. I had been useful when Jared had needed someone stupid enough to take his performance-enhancing happy pills. To deceive the guards at the Oconee power station; to lure them into the cage so I could kill them and free the others. To be a weapon to be pointed in the right direction. To walk into direct fire and hack and slash with my ax until something or someone would take me down for good—which hadn’t happened.
I did my job well.
Until I became a nuisance to him. Until I chose to stick with the people who’d actually had my back and stood up for me. My friends. Until we’d collectively stopped being useful.
But it made sense, right? You didn’t hang on to a tool once it was no longer useful. You discarded it. You forgot about it.
Only that I hadn’t forgotten—and Osprey had survived, and Dharma had gotten the pickup going once more, and Kas had driven through the night, making the return journey in one endless marathon session that, in the other direction, had taken us three days instead…
When all that had happened, I hadn’t forgotten.
Seeing Jared standing there next to the Enclave higher-ups, schmoozing up to them to take the red-carpet invite they’d extended to him and his—something had snapped deep inside of me.
That tool had one more purpose in her, it turned out.
To be stupid. To fall for his trap. To turn from being useful for him into a liability for everyone else.
I doubted he’d planned it like this from the start, but he’d sure made the most out of it when I’d tried my feeble, exhausted best to fucking end him.
Now I was locked in a cage, and he was free to roam the Enclave—if not a celebrated hero, then a valuable asset, and one that didn’t have enough strikes against him to warrant exile at the tiniest of infractions.
I’d played right into his hands.
He’d only have to open his lying, scum mouth, and I’d be zombie bait for good.
No, my mind wasn’t in a good place as I sat in my cage, waiting. Waiting for the withdrawal symptoms to lessen. Waiting for Osprey to come with the next tray, and the one after that. Hungering for human contact more than sustenance—and feeling incredibly pathetic for it.
But most of all, I felt stupid. So fucking stupid.
I knew my time was up when the tribunal came waltzing in again.
I couldn’t help but smirk at my own clever pun—but what would you have called a trio of shitheads that called themselves after military ranks that no one could verify they even held, and ancient philosophers?
I’d learned my lesson. I kept my trap shut as I watched the Colonel, Plato, and Seneca roll in, all looking very grave and grim—as if that show of masculine authority would impress me. Because it took brave men to stand up to an exhausted, dirty woman locked in a cage. What a show of strength.
My ire waned when I saw that they weren’t alone. Behind them, my friends tagged along—all of them, I was surprised to see. Osprey, I’d kind of expected. Kas, I had really, truly wished for. Dharma, too, but I hadn’t forgotten how afraid of me she’d been—not intimidated by my skills, but scared of the monster that came out of hiding once the right chemicals hit my brain. But she was there, all right, and behind them, Liam and Corey, the other members of our group. They were still eyeing me a little cautiously, but seeing what state I was in quickly drew winces and looks of sympathy from them.
It surprised me how much it meant to me—that they’d come. And how strong I felt my own bond with them really was.
It was an understatement to say that I’d spent my time in the cage plotting how to get out of there and then up and disappear—not just from the Enclave, but also the territory they controlled. But seeing my friends waiting for me put a damper on that impulse to run. Not completely annihilating it, but we weren’t exactly living in a world where I felt I could ever let my guard down.
What a difference a month can do to a person…
Turned out, I had something to lose after all—something my mind had conveniently forgotten about while I’d been rotting in my misery.
While that made my heart feel just a little lighter, it also fucking terrified me to the core.
Too little time had passed since I’d lost my last cornerstones in this world—Ashley, Brandi, and Chelle, my roommates for years. Who had died of this fucking plague while I had lived, for whatever reason. And at least with Brandi, I knew that she hadn’t stayed dead.
Remembering the malice in her filmed-over eyes before she’d taken off in the triage tent still made me shudder.
It was for the best that I’d never gotten to find out if the same had happened with Chelle and Ash.
The Colonel—self-important as ever—prattled off the terms of my continuing stay with them that he’d already declared after their interrogation four days ago. No cozy, cushy community mingling for me. Like the rabid bitch that I was, I was to be chained outside during the night—meaning I’d get to sleep in the outside barracks, with the perimeter guards that weren’t entirely fit to be left to mingle with the vulnerable kids and impressionable fertile females inside. During the day, I was Osprey’s problem, expected to go out with my group and do whatever needed doing—mostly still scavenging for everything the growing community needed: clothes, food, and anything to keep the lights going here in the abandoned mine.
Of course I didn’t protest. In fact, I didn’t say anything at all; just stood there and waited until someone hit a switch on the wall and the bars of my prison retracted into the ceiling.
I did not feel like a free woman.
I also did not feel like a rebellious freedom fighter.
To be honest, I was fucking glad not to be kicked out with nothing but the dirty clothes on my back.
At least I’d still have shelter, food, and a community to look out for me. It was a shitty deal, but it was a hell of a lot better than the alternative.
Because what alternatives were there out there? Some random people at the lake who in the meantime had likely all died of the sickness that had almost killed me and turned millions into the shambling undead? The Apocalypse Mafia—sorry, the Militia, of course—that had gotten killed by roaming zombie mobs almost to the last man, who’d now gotten gobbled up by the Enclave? Or the community at the power plant that was a hornet’s nest of zombie-raping assholes and possibly infected slaves, keeping their now-once-more-walking dead locked away for whatever nefarious purposes?
Yeah, I still had nightmares from what we’d witnessed going on there, and I hadn’t had the brainpower to start working out what parts I believed, what parts sounded too ludicrous in hindsight, and what had been the drugs addling my mind beyond comprehension.
Running sounded good in theory,
Nah, the Enclave was all right, even if I still felt justified calling them the Misogynist Cult Group.
Fucking assholes they were for how they treated me—but they were the lesser assholes. And I had brought part of this on myself—a fact that made it grate all the more.
“You know, this is complete and utter bullshit,” Dharma muttered once the bars came up and I gingerly stepped out of my previous confines.
I fully agreed with her. Jared had had it coming. I would have absolutely done the world a service, killing him for good.
“You can’t chain her outside like a dog.”
Oh, right—that part. Well, that was ludicrous, too, but on a much lower scale for me.
Seneca—lagging behind after the Colonel and Plato left—gave her a derisive look.
“She made her bed. Now she has to lie in it.”
I just looked at him—which was enough to make him tense. If I’d been a little more vindictive, I would have loved how uncomfortable I made him.
“She had a mental breakdown. Boohoo. Big deal,” Dharma said, sounding like she was still trying to convince herself, not just him.
“She attacked one of her allies,” Seneca stressed.
“Who would have let all of us die!” Dharma cried, actually throwing her arms in the air. “And it was the second time he pulled that stunt on her! Plus, she was completely loopy from the drugs. Drugs that he gave her. That fucking asshole provoked her. That’s what was going on. Hell, if she hadn’t gone after him, I just might have.”
We all knew that was a lie. Like all the others, Dharma had been filled with relief to be home and safe once more. To have someone with medical training take care of Osprey. She might have griped a little at Seneca welcoming Jared and his men with open arms, but that wasn’t beyond her usual MO. Complain, accept, and deal with her mixed emotions in a healthy, socially acceptable way.
Not go all primal and try to kill the asshole with her bare hands.
If only I’d been smart enough to grab a weapon first…
Seneca sighed. I got the sense that this wasn’t the first time they’d had this exact conversation.
I didn’t exactly know how that made me feel. Warm and fuzzy, sure—but also like I absolutely didn’t deserve her loyalty.
I really wasn’t sober enough for this shit.
“Look, it’s not up to me, and it’s a done deal. She sleeps outside with the other guards. Do you hear them complaining? No. She’s still allowed to eat with you and use the bathrooms. We just don’t want her to wander off into the living quarters and scare the living shit out of some already traumatized kids, okay?”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Dharma said—with more conviction than I felt.
I mean, I wouldn’t have deliberately scared children. But I might have started snooping around a bit, if only to alleviate the rampant paranoia that someone was out to get me.
Yeah, that was also a lovely side effect of the withdrawal. The certainty that I had a target painted on my back. With the way Jared had smirked at me—while I had been beating the living shit out of him, and after, during the interrogation—I just knew that he would abuse the fact that I had pretty much delivered myself into his hands, if only he so wanted. Which I didn’t, and if he was smart, he’d leave it at a threat.
Fat chance of that.
I fucking hoped it was just that—rampant paranoia. I knew it wasn’t, but I was also convinced that Seneca and the Colonel had it out for me personally—for whatever reason—and that Kara Mason, immunologist by trade and socially inept by convention, was already waiting to ask for more of my blood, mucus, and possibly piss and shit as well.
“You don’t know that,” Seneca pointed out.
It took me a moment to remember what this was about, and that he hadn’t read my thoughts and replied to them.
Damn, but my mind really wasn’t all that sharp yet.
“I’ll vouch for her,” Dharma said, again rocking conviction I was sorely lacking.
I even went as far as to give her a sidelong glance. She ignored it.
“That’s non-negotiable,” Seneca shot back.
Dharma’s face scrunched up with dismay. “We all know what kinds of people we have housed out there—”
“Among them those who can’t control themselves and need to be kept apart from the vulnerable population—exactly,” he interjected, finishing her point for her.
Dharma glared some more. “What if something happens?”
“Like what?”
Oh, this was getting good. I wondered if anyone else had picked up on my… reservations regarding Jared’s higher motivations. Or were those the most basic ones? Hmm.
Dharma’s glare said outright that she shouldn’t have had to spell this out.
“If they rape her. That’s why we separate the chaff from the wheat, right? So nothing like that happens.”
Seneca actually went as far as to smirk.
Dharma looked ready to punch him in the face. I couldn’t let that happen.
“Nobody’s going to rape me.” This time, my conviction was firm. When Dharma turned to me—a little wounded that I would speak up against her efforts, but also kind of relieved—I added, “They don’t have the guts to try.”
That, and I was sure that by now, Jared had declared me anathema. I had no idea if I’d end up wherever he and his gang had hunkered down, but I didn’t delude myself into expecting him not to declare a total hands-off policy enacted where I was concerned—him of course being the exception. It had been how long exactly since he’d been here? Four or five days. Long enough that by now, he was running the show in his part of the community—and if not outright, then in effect.
Dharma gave me a brief once-over that was kind of over the top.
“You don’t exactly look like you’re up to putting anyone in their place yet. Even if you have… you know.”
“Proven that I’m entirely capable of doing it?” I suggested.
“Something like that,” she grudgingly admitted.
I let out a slow breath—also because it was damn tiring to be standing here, bickering—to calm myself, then inclined my head toward Seneca.
“I’m sure that in this aspect, I am allowed to defend myself?” He was slow to nod, but in the end, he did. “Besides, isn’t the Enclave all about preserving its best assets? I’m sure I boosted my value in that regard with my actions. They wouldn’t let anyone ruin their not-so-shiny new toy, right?”
Seneca’s wry mirth was assurance enough for me—my assumption was correct.
Dharma was less than amused but dropped the point.
At Seneca’s jerk of the chin, our entire procession set into motion, me trailing behind.
“How exactly is this going to work?” I asked Osprey, since technically, he was kind of our team leader—or at least the one most comfortable bossing the others around. I’d already seen firsthand that it was an undisputed position since Dharma was only too happy to fall in line once action was required rather than debating—which made her a great right-hand woman. “I mean the detailed logistics of it.” I stared at Seneca’s back for a second. “Like, am I allowed to gather my personal things first, or are you going to dump me right in the forward asshole barracks?”
I saw a smile pass over Corey’s face. At least someone still found my quips amusing. Dharma’s expression was mostly storm clouds, and Osprey had the grace to look vaguely uncomfortable.
“You’ll be allowed to shower, change, and eat inside with us,” he explained. “Under supervision.” Meaning Dharma had to tag along. She didn’t seem put out about that. “As for personal belongings…” he trailed off, staring at Seneca.
The man in question finally glanced back at us. “Get your shit now. Then, we’ll find you a place to stay while you’re on probation.”
I smiled sweetly at him. “I was just fucking with you. I don’t have any personal shit. Just shit that’s personal.”
Someone snickered. I thought it was Liam this time.
Seneca actually had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable but didn’t respond.
