Love and Decay, Volume Seven (Episodes 5-8, Season Three) Read online

  Love and Decay

  A Novella series

  Season Three

  Volume Seven

  Episodes Five-Eight

  Rachel Higginson

  Copyright@ Rachel Higginson 2015

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  Smashwords Edition, License Notes.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copy Editing by Carolyn Moon

  Cover Design by Caedus Design Co.

  Other books by Rachel Higginson currently available:

  Love and Decay

  Love and Decay, Season One, Episodes One-Twelve

  Love and Decay, Season Two, Episodes One-Twelve

  Love and Decay, Season Three, Episodes One-Twelve

  Love and Decay, Season Four, Coming December, 2015

  The Star-Crossed Series

  Reckless Magic

  Hopeless Magic

  Fearless Magic

  Endless Magic

  The Reluctant King

  The Relentless Warrior

  Breathless Magic

  Fateful Magic

  The Redeemable Prince

  The Starbright Series

  Heir of Skies

  Heir of Darkness

  Heir of Secrets

  The Siren Series

  The Rush

  The Fall

  The Heart

  Bet on Us

  The Five Stages of Falling in Love

  Every Wrong Reason

  To the Readers,

  I hope you all have your own Parker.

  Episode Five

  Chapter One

  1070 Days after initial infection

  Okay, this wasn’t so bad. So what if I was trapped in a cage like an animal and could potentially be fed to Zombies in the morning? So what if the sun had set and now I was freezing my ass off and surrounded by lonely men? So what if I was going to die of dehydration and my skin was blistered from the unrelenting sun during the day? So what if I had lost my best friend to slavery and her boyfriend whom I also loved and Page and Miller?

  The sob caught in my chest, but I refused to let it go. That was too much. The power of positive thinking could only get me so far and losing Haley was too goddamn far.

  I pulled my knees tighter to my chest and ignored the metal poking into my back from the side of the cage. My body trembled from the shock of the cold on my superheated skin and my throat screamed from thirst and misuse.

  I was a mess and so damn tired. It seemed I hadn’t slept in days. Maybe weeks. And all I wanted to do was curl into the fetal position and cry my heart out.

  But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything I wanted. I had to keep a vigilant eye on the men sharing my cage because they weren’t just lonely, they were desperate. And I was one of the only women in this cell.

  God, I hated this place.

  This was the worst thing that had happened yet. The very worst thing.

  Sometimes, during my endless hours of sitting here, wondering when I was going to be made Zombie food or sold into slavery, I wondered if maybe I was already dead. Maybe the cannibals had killed me after all.

  Or maybe it happened before then. Maybe I had never made it out of Iowa.

  Maybe this was hell.

  Because it couldn’t be anything else.

  How did something top Zombies? How did anything get worse than the Colony? Or Cannibals? Or starving to death in a desert?

  Every time something bad happened to us, I kept thinking that we’d bottomed out and that the only way left to go was up.

  A few days ago, I had been locked in a room, waiting to be eaten by other humans. There should not be a more terrifying scenario than that one.

  Except here I was.

  And worst of all… worst of all was that my best friend had been taken away from me. I lost her and Nelson and their baby. I lost Page and Miller. How was I supposed to go on from that?

  I had never been the kind of girl to give up on life before, but facing these circumstances, I didn’t think I could go on.

  The grief tore through me like a savage beast, shredding my soul with its slimy fangs and sharp claws. I could not breathe through this aching cavern of loss. I could not think beyond my sorrow.

  We had been through so much. We had fought and survived and risked everything to stay together. Yet, in the space of a few minutes, my loved ones had been dragged away without even a goodbye.

  And instead of crying or screaming or raging against the evil that had taken them from me, I had to stay alert in this goddamn cage and protect myself from my newest threat- men who looked at me like I was a piece of meat.

  The sun had set an hour ago. I had spent the majority of the day staring at the dirt drive in front of the house, waiting for Haley to come back. I felt like a lost puppy.

  I couldn’t believe she had actually been taken. And I really couldn’t believe she hadn’t figured out a way to escape. I half-expected her to lead a prisoner-led revolt on that stupid truck, rise up against her captors and drive it back here to save the rest of us.

  As the minutes turned into hours and she never returned, the reality of our situation had settled on me like a concrete block attached to my feet. When the truck finally pulled back in front of the house and prisoners were returned to their cells, that same concrete block dragged me down into the deepest parts of an ocean of despair. Haley hadn’t returned. Nelson, Miller and Page had not returned.

  They had been sold.

  And there was no way for me to know how or where to get them back.

  Not that it would matter. I would probably be dead by noon tomorrow.

  And what would happen to the rest of my friends? I was all alone in this cage but I could sometimes catch glimpses of them. Hendrix, Vaughan, Harrison, King and Tyler were going through the same thing that I was. They were also sunburnt, dehydrated, starving and at risk for the next Zombie manhunt. They had also lost people they loved more than life.

  Blurry feet appeared in front of me and I shook my head to clear my vision. I blinked away tears I had been trying to keep at bay. I could not let these people see me breakdown. I could not show them any weakness.

  My eyes moved from blistered, scabbed bare feet, up to torn, tattered clothing that smelled like feces and human decay and to a leering face that sent nausea roiling through me. He leaned forward when our eyes met, speaking suggestively in Spanish. I had no idea what he said, but I could tell by his tone that I was not interested.

  “No,” I growled in a voice that sounded barely human.

  His lascivious grin spread across his ugly face. He spoke up, drawing other men into the conversation. He bounced his shoulders for effect and the other men moved closer
to him. To me.

  There were two other women in the cage with us and they cowered in the other corners. Their arms were wrapped around their heads and I could hear their quiet, terrified crying.

  I would not cry in front of these people. They would not break me.

  I would not give them the pleasure after everything else I had been through.

  Nothing truly awful had happened in front of me the last two nights, but I felt the shift in the air tonight. We had survived the Zombie feeding today. We had survived the slave auction. Where I had reason to grieve, these people were celebrating.

  And they wanted to include me.

  “No,” I repeated, pouring as much loathing and disgust as I felt into that one word. My tears of sorrow turned into tears of rage. They would not touch me.

  They shuffled closer as if testing my resolve. I used the bars of the cage to pull myself into standing and I faced them straight on. Weak from hunger and thirst and nearly delirious from lack of sleep, I squared my shoulders and met their hungry gazes. They would not see how afraid I was.

  They would not see how close to giving up I was.

  No matter how close I was to shattering.

  There were three of them standing near me. The guy in the middle reached out his hand as if to touch me… pet me maybe. I slapped his hand away roughly.

  “No me gusta,” I hissed. I didn’t know enough Spanish to tell him exactly how I felt, so that would have to do.

  They laughed at me, sadistic sounds of condescension and glee. My hands itched for my guns. Hell, I would have loved to have my baseball bat right now.

  I rubbed my hands over my jean pockets, desperate for something to magically appear. I looked beyond the three men in front of me, to where the rest of my cellmates sat, pretending not to notice us. Sure, not everyone here wanted to rape me, but they weren’t going to stop it from happening either.

  Acid bubbled in my stomach and flooded my throat. Fear curled around my insides, crushing me with its vicelike grip. My rage pounded a heavy rhythm in my chest as I thought about the consequences of tonight. It mingled with terror and hopelessness, humiliation and repulsion.

  Their laughter died at once and their leers became more threatening. Sounds from other cages interrupted the quiet night. In the distance Zombies moaned and screeched, announcing their ever present addition to this nightmare.

  The middle guy took a step toward me and I fisted my hands and prepared to fight. This would not happen to me. I would tear out their jugulars with my teeth if I had to. I would claw out their eyes and rip off their balls.

  I would maintain this one thing. I would keep this one thing about me because it was mine and it was all I had left.

  “You will not touch me.” My voice was granite and unmovable. I had no idea if they understood me, but I was pretty sure there was only one way to interpret my meaning.

  The man stared at me with his beady eyes gleaming in the darkness. His lips twisted into a cruel smile and he raised his hands as if to settle me down.

  Didn’t he know? He couldn’t settle me. I was untamable.

  I was wild.

  I lashed out before he could take another step, kicking him as hard as I could in the junk. The air whooshed out of him before he sucked in a rasping groan. The men on either side of him chuckled at his misfortune but did not make a move to back away.

  I didn’t have real fighting skills. I didn’t know self-defense or martial arts or anything other than the experience of the last few years. I could run. I could shoot. I could be creative with weapons when I had to be. But I had no idea how to go into hand-to-hand combat and come out unscathed.

  Dread churned in my stomach. These men could overpower me easily. They could do whatever they wanted to me.

  A sound I had never made before punched out of my chest. No. I did not accept this. I did not accept this reality.

  I wanted a new one.

  The guy on the left lunged forward. He was the biggest of the three, muscle still clung to his skinny arms and he didn’t hunch over from emaciation. The back of my neck pricked with warning, but I didn’t have another choice.

  I kicked out at him, as hard as I could. He caught my foot in a tight grip and yanked. I stumbled forward, arms flailing. I winced a frustrated sound and tried to tug my foot back. His grip tightened on my ankle until his fingers dug into my skin, his jagged nails piercing through my jeans. He grinned at me and jerked my foot powerfully hard. My other foot slid forward, I reached out to catch myself but my sweaty hands couldn’t grab hold. The world tipped upside down as I flew backwards, landing on my back. My head slammed against the cage bars and my spine cracked with the impact.

  The man dropped my foot, brushing his hands off arrogantly. I groaned on the ground, desperately struggling to gather my determination. My back screamed in pain and my head hurt like a son of a bitch.

  “Don’t come near me,” I wheezed. They didn’t listen.

  My vision cleared just in time for me to see three very angry men loom over me. The intent was clear in their eyes and they were tired of playing around.

  Unable to accept what was about to happen, I leaned over and spit on their feet. “Get away from me.”

  One of them barked out something ugly right before kicking me in the side. The wind knocked out of me as his foot connected with my kidneys. They waited for me to settle down, but as soon as I sucked in some air, I leaned over and spit at the ground again.

  Another foot pounded my shoulder and another one hit my hip. I clamped down on my tongue until I tasted blood, refusing to cry out. I would not stop this. I would take being beaten over their original plans for me.

  When another hit my stomach and I started to gag from the force of it, I knew I would die like this. They were going to kill me.

  I expected to be okay with it. I had nearly died too many times already and just a few days ago, I had been willing to sacrifice myself to cannibals if it meant my friends could live.

  But this was different. This death wouldn’t save other people. This death wouldn’t provide justice for anyone. This was senseless and stupid and I didn’t deserve to die this way.

  A bone-deep instinct swelled inside of me and I felt my resolve to live build itself back up. Block by block, I restored my confidence and willpower. I turned my resolve into iron and steel. I lifted my chin and dared them to do their worst.

  I waited for their next hit or their next move or whatever they planned to do, but it didn’t come. I crawled into myself and shut out the outside world as I rebuilt myself. It was an odd place to find self-actualization. I couldn’t deny that.

  When nothing hit me or kicked me again, it took me a while to come out of that place and return to reality.

  A car engine roared through the night and tires crunched aggressively against the dirt. Headlights suddenly lit the dark night, bouncing over the cages and blinding me. I heaved in an effort to drop my arm over my face. Once it was there, I did not move.

  The engine shut off and car doors opened and slammed. A vaguely familiar voice started shouting in Spanish. As exhausted and beaten as I was I still jumped when gun shots popped through the air.

  I peeled my arm away and myself off the ground. A quick look around showed the men who had planned to attack me hunching against the opposite side of the cage. Apparently they could understand what was going on and they did not like it.

  Cowards.

  What kind of men beat and tried to rape a helpless woman but cowered when the hint of danger hovered near.

  “Chickens,” I spit at them.

  Probably not my best insult, but my head hurt.

  Raphael exploded out of his house, buttoning his pants. His shirt was missing and his hair was disheveled from sleep. The guards that flanked his front door had raised their weapons at the newcomers. Raphael didn’t bother to carry a weapon, but he had enough men to protect him so he probably didn’t need one.

  The new guy had brought his own muscle. They waved
their weapons around and continued to shout in Spanish.

  I stumbled with the effort to standing and leaned against the bars. I was only a few cages from the house and when I worked to focus I could make out their faces clearly enough with the lights of the house now shining on them.

  “Oh, shit,” I groaned. Diego stood there shouting at Raphael, weapons flailing with their threats. I glanced around, frantic to find the Parkers and Tyler. The light didn’t fall far enough for me to see them. A new sense of panic pricked at my nerves, waking me from the stupor I’d slipped into.

  Raphael gestured toward the cages, shouting angrily. I froze as the guards around him reached for something, but then relaxed when all they produced were flashlights. They flipped them on and pointed them toward the number of cages dotting Raphael’s front yard.

  “Oh, shit,” I repeated desolately when I realized that they were searching the cages.

  I winced and dropped my head back. I rubbed my hands over my face and appealed to the star filled sky. “I need help,” I nearly cried. “I can’t do any more of this. I am tired and I am dirty and I am so hungry I’ve thought about become a Zombie just so I could have something to eat. Help me. Please.”

  A flashlight spotlighted me, turning my hands red. I pulled them away from my face and blinked at the bright light.

  “Reagan,” Diego growled, mispronouncing my name.

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  He ignored me and turned to Raphael. “I want her out of there. Now.” His words were in English and I had to assume they were for my benefit.

  Raphael slowly walked to the door of the cell, his guards flanking him with weapons raised. Raphael barked something at the people around me and they seemed to want to melt into the metal. They completely froze. They didn’t even make a sound.