The Deepest Red (55 page)

“You sold us out Bryan and because of that two of our people were killed.”

Lonnie approaches the side of Bryan’s bed like a prowling predator. The motion is eerie because I’ve started to only associate the intent for violence with Connor. Bryan leans back.

“You wanted us here so talk and make it quick. I don’t want to look at you longer than I have too,” Lonnie seethes. 

Bryan’s gaze lowers to the warm blanket covering his badly bruised body.

“The cult captured me two months before I met you, Lonnie.” He takes a deep breath, his tone laced with the memories of unspeakable horrors. “You don’t understand how terrible society is within the larger cities. I traveled to Atlanta first before escaping south. The people whose ancestors survived the bombs, riots, and poverty of the city were rewarded with constant fear of death by those around them. I met my wife in an alley on the outskirts of a poor community. She was starved and so very fragile. I took her away from all the fear and helped her to grow strong. We made our way west of Atlanta, settling into an abandoned church. We experienced a short blessed life within the sanctuary of that church. We were happy, living off the remains of goods someone else had stocked within the youth center but never returned to claim.”

His eyes glaze over as if transported back into that distant world.

“My wife didn’t die of an illness. Men came to our home searching for anyone to recruit. The dead had started coming back to life and they figured the more capable men around to fend off the new threat, the better. They wanted to protect the local communities not because they were decent human beings but because they needed slaves- others to act as the work force in keeping their life full of luxury. Well, as much luxury as you can obtain.”

“What happened to your wife?” I ask, wanting to stop his rambling.

“After I refused, the strangers killed her. After two weeks, I found a way to escape the men with my newborn daughter.”

“Wait. You said you didn’t have any children,” I state.

Bryan nods.

“I lied.”

“You still haven’t told us why you betrayed us?” Lonnie says.

Bryan releases a slow painful sigh.

“My daugher, Cricket and I, bounced around for almost sixteen years before heading south. When the cult found us, I was given an ultimatum- help the leader’s wife find her lost niece or watch as my daughter dies.”

“Did they kill her?” I ask, wondering if I would have made a different choice than him.

“I’m not sure. I helped like they wanted. At the time, I didn’t know Lonnie, wasn’t friends with you but when I saw your red hair, I knew who you were and later realized you weren’t lost.”

“You told them I was a scout, told them everything you learned about the prison, about me so they could plan an attack. All this, to get your daughter back?” Bryan nods his head.

“She looks so much like her mother,” he says as a tear escapes down his cheeks.

“Why beat you?” Lonnie whispers, his anger ebbing into understanding.

I observe Bryan’s shaky hand wipe a lone tear away.

“I told Katlin I fulfilled my part of the bargain. I provided them with the information they wanted but Katlin wanted more. The day after Millie and Jay escaped, I mentioned Daniel and Carter’s death and how she had promised no one would get hurt, she only laughed. It was then I’d realized what I thought was me doing the right thing was instead a sinful mistake.” Bryan winces as he shifts below the covers of his bed. “Katlin had me beaten and tossed out into the red zone. She said I could use some time wondering if Cricket was dead or alive.”

“Did she not think you would come here?” Lonnie asked.

I remember my dad’s words about Katlin wanting those she attacked to know who was attacking them.

“Bryan is her proof to Mr. Jensen that the cult is real. Just in case, no one believed us,” I answered.

“Lonnie, you need to believe me- if they didn’t threaten my daughter, I wouldn’t have betrayed you. I’m so sorry.”

I withdraw from the curtained area- one small truth invading my thoughts. It was hard to hate someone when you understood their motivation- things weren’t right between us but I understood why he did the things he’d done. With heavy eyes, Bryan begins to recite scripture, “The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against him.”

Lonnie follows behind me, slipping the curtain back around the bed.

“He needs to sleep, maybe we can learn more about the cults infrastructure from him tomorrow.” I agree with a clouded mind. “What’s wrong?”

I massage the ache pulsing in my temple.

“Why can’t life be black and white?” I ask.

“It can be,” he replies. I roll my eyes.

“Whatever.”

“No. Listen. You can view what Bryan did as he wronged you and not factor anything else into the equation. Your vision becomes black and white, think of it only as he sinned against you.”

I nod, attempting to follow along with his logic.

“Now, apply his perspective, the way he grew up and experienced life different from you- different points of views, different priorities. When you start to see yourself in his role making the same decisions, you begin to understand the many different shades of grey.”

“You would have done the same thing as him if Evie had been taken,” I accuse.

“I never said I saw only in black and white,” Lonnie whispers.

I close my eyes in confusion.

“He is a Godly man. I thought he would be wiser than us, a better example to others,” I say. Lonnie grips my shoulder with a firm hand.

“At the end of the day, Bryan is a man and we all fall short of the glory of God.”

“You’ve been reading the Bible?” I question.

“Yeah. I found a New Testament Bible a while back during the scouting mission toward Griffin, a city north of Zebulon.”

“You understood it?”

“I did. The book was written differently than the large one in our library.”

“You think it’s true?” I ask, curious of his opinion.

“If I say yes then we’re most likely in the back of the book.”

“What do you mean?”

“Revelations.”

A cold chill sweeps down my spine.

“Lonnie.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t hear Lola’s breathing anymore.”

I spin toward the bed that Lola’s still form had laid only to discover the sheets are twisted in disarray and empty.

“Where is she?” Lonnie hisses.

I race around the room searching the ground for a dazed and fallen figure. Nothing. “I don’t know, I can’t find her. Check the door.”

Lonnie runs to the entry, flinging open the solid door to find the hallway empty.

“Nothing,” he calls out as a gurgling sound catches my attention.

I reach for Bryan’s curtain, hearing the metal clinks of the curtain’s support holders ring as I thrust the fabric to the side. In front of me, a perfectly healthy Lola leans onto Bryan’s bed. Her undecayed face sleek with a layer of warm blood. She bends further biting into an already opened neck. Bryan lays motionless on the bed, eyes still closed as if he was asleep. The blood from his torn neck seeps into the mattress below. I step forward in shock or by reflex, I’m not sure, drawing Tom’s pocket knife from my belt. For the first time since I’d started carrying the blade, the weapon seems small and incapable of killing the infected feasting so calmly.  

Lola’s once beautiful and alive body halts. The blood from her lips falling to speckle Bryan’s non beating chest. Her head tilts sizing me up, measuring the situation- showing awareness which no other infected seemed to do. I study her appearance, unlike the other infected, she is freshly dead. Strong. Her muscles are not weakened from decay or weathered by harsh climates. The only difference in her appearance from before is in her eyes. When she was alive, they were brown- large and full of spunk. Now they were clouded with a sheen of yellow.

I shout a warning to Lonnie, still across the room in the open doorway. Panic rushes the beats of my heart. Had I been standing here a moment, a minute, an hour? It didn’t matter. The only thing which mattered was the horror which filled me as Lola’s lips switched into the outline of a creepy smile.

“God, if you exist, protect me now,” I pray as the newly infected rushes toward me.

Chapter Thirty

Lola’s blood is still warm as it splatters onto my face and clothing. I slash again with Tom’s pocket knife as Lonnie rushes toward us. The movement feels slowed even though I know it isn’t. Lola stumbles back from the sudden strike but she corrects her footing quickly. She is fast and unlike any infected we have faced before. Lonnie crashes into her, sending them both to the ground.

“Grab my knife!” Lonnie yells, as he dodges Lola’s snapping mouth.

My stiff fingers clutch onto the blade’s handle as I pull it from its sheath. A question burrows into my mind as reflex takes over.
When did I become this person?
I raise the sharp blade above my head and allow gravity to help as the gleaming steel travels toward Lola’s twisting neck.

A memory of Connor from so long ago telling me he wasn’t a good person replays as I lift the blade to strike again. Lonnie shifts, locking Lola in a better position for the weapon in my hand to detach her head. Connor’s voice speaks the words again, “I’m not a good person.” Blood splatters once more on my blue jeans. I understand now what he meant.

There is a ringing sound filling my ears as the blade slices through skin and into the floor below. Lonnie sags, releasing Lola’s headless body. I stare into her face, her eyes wide with an infected’s glare. Blood covers her once flushed cheeks and drips from the jagged skin of her neck. I feel the bile rising in my throat.

“Millie?”

Lonnie’s voice is miles away as I drop the blade from my hand.

“I don’t know if I can do this any more,” I whisper.

There is a scream from the doorway as Rebecca enters. The small boxes in her hands fall to the ground, one opening to reveal a syringe and tubing.

“What is it?” Joseph asks as he hurries in the room with Cam following close behind.

“She turned,” I say with a weak voice.

“She was fine when I left,” Rebecca cries, her eyes traveling across the room to the occupied bed. With a gasp, her hands cover her mouth, holding in the frighten sob.

Lonnie reaches for his weapon.

“Bryan needs to be beheaded too,” he states without emotion.

With his cold words, I rush from the room no longer able to look at what I had done. What I was forced to do in order to survive.

“I’m sorry.”

The words leave my lips as I hurry by the three shocked people crowded at the doorway. The urge to flee takes over my rational brain and I slide on the blood still clinging to the soles of my shoes. Madness pushes a little more into my brain with a quiet voice, “You enjoyed killing.” I shake my head in disagreement and think of Katlin’s face as she easily switched from one emotion to another.

I escape from the room right before others come who had heard Rebecca’s scream. In the dim light of the hallways, I witness shadows of the crowd growing larger. They had never witness such a horrible and gory scene. As a whole, our community was innocent, the majority never needing to journey into the red zone. Those who lived the years right after society collapsed were dead, all but Elizabeth. We could never stand against an army of trained men who only knew the horrors spread throughout abandoned buildings and empty fields. We would die within these fences. I focus my eyes ahead not knowing where to go. I think of Connor but I’m sure he is with the crowd now wondering where I am and I don’t want to face the crowd. I don’t want to be the person who is responsible for the nightmarish scene they can’t tear their eyes away from.