Bound
Authors: Shannon Mayer
Table of Contents
Bound
A Zombie-ish Apocalypse Book II
Shannon Mayer
Bound
A man is not where he lives, but where he loves.
-Latin Proverb
1
There are moments in time that define you, make you who you are, force you to delve deep within your heart and grasp hold of the person you want to be. They are hard, gut wrenching, soul splitting seconds, that leave us spiritually drained, yet somehow in the end, stronger.
The blade in my hand caught the sunlight as I brought it down, ready to bury it into Sebastian’s neck. As hard as it was to trust the monster he’d become, I could never kill him, not even to save myself, or our child. My fingers released the smooth wooden handle, and the blade fell to the dusty, hard packed ground.
“I can’t Sebastian.” Calm flooded through me as I accepted that he would kill me. The pack he led would clean my bones, feeding their young and old alike with my flesh.
He let out a groan and his body sagged onto mine, his face pressed against my neck. A low rumble started deep in his belly and his arms circled around me. I clung to him, holding back the sobs that were building in my chest. Before I could react, Sebastian stood, not letting go of me, but pulling me to my feet alongside him.
He stepped back and lifted his hands to my face to wipe away the tears that streaked down and dripped off my chin.
A screech from behind us, from the trail I’d just run out of, brought reality crashing back home. I had to get back on my side of the gate before the rest of the pack showed up.
I started to turn, sliding my hands off Sebastian’s hard body. “I have to go,” I said. He nodded, lifted his eyes towards the gate and let out a growl, his lips rippling with the noise. I completed the turn as a loud click echoed down the road. A man in an army uniform had a very large gun pointed at us.
“Ma'm, step away from the Nevermore, slowly, no quick movements, it draws their attention,” he said, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyebrows.
I put my hand up, “No, you don’t understand, he’s not like the others.”
Sebastian let out a snarl and leapt past me, seeing only a threat to me, a threat that had to be annihilated.
“No!” I shouted, running after him but unable to keep up with his speed. A boom rattled the world around us and Sebastian’s body jerked backwards, a bloom of red spreading out behind him, his right shoulder suddenly soaked in blood. I let out a cry of pain as if the bullet had gone through me and not him. This couldn’t be happening, not now, not when we were so close to being safe.
Another ungodly howl went up from down the road and I could hear the Nevermores running now, their feet beating a discordant tempo on the hard packed road.
“Ma'm, I’m going to need you to get behind the gate, this is not safe,” Mr. Army said. I ignored him and dropped to the ground next to Sebastian, who was on his hands and knees, panting, blood dripping from the gunshot wounds as well as his mouth.
“Shut the hell up and help me!” I snapped, trying with little success to lift Sebastian. Even with his diminished weight, his size made it nearly impossible to do so. I looked up at the hard line of Mr. Army’s mouth. “I mean it asshole; help me get him up and inside that gate now!”
Sebastian started to growl, I shushed him. “Be quiet, he’s going to help.” Mr. Army drew closer, his eyebrows raised above his sunglasses.
Sebastian subsided and Mr. Army and I hustled to the gate and pulled Sebastian through just as the pack came thundering up, hollering and screaming, beating their fists on the metal bars. Jessica was the worst of the bunch, yanking her own hair and hitting other pack members as they got too close to her.
“We’ve got to get him inside the house; I have to get that wound clean,” I said.
“You’re nuts lady; this big bugger’s going to tear us all apart,” a second voice said.
I looked up and gasped, nearly dropping Sebastian. There was a large dusky green army vehicle in our driveway, guns welded to the front of it. Men surrounded it, all in army fatigues, all with guns levelled at us. Instinctively, I kept my body between the men and Sebastian. There was no way they would give him a chance if he so much as twitched.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my grip tightening around Sebastian’s waist. His head lolled to my shoulder and he started to slump sideways. I shifted my arms and struggled to hold him upright.
“Our last satellite photos, before we lost power, showed this region as being one of the least infected areas with the highest possible chance of survivors,” Mr. Army said, his voice even, his expression unreadable behind the dark glasses and cap.
Two men rushed forward, guns still trained on us, and a third man in crisp, pressed army fatigues followed more slowly, guns at his waist and a large bobby stick in his right hand. A few more steps and he stood over us, a cruel twist to his thin lips.
“You must be Mara, and I assume this is your Sebastian?” He asked, his voice cold.
“How do you know who I am?” This was freaking me out and I began to shake from exertion, exhaustion and the loss of adrenaline pumping through me.
“We’ve searched your house, confiscated the food and we found your information. Though Sebastian here looks fairly different from your wedding pictures, it is obviously still him. Amazing that there is somehow a connection between the two of you, despite the Nevermore drug.” He leaned down and Sebastian let out a low growl. I put my hand over his mouth. This man standing over us scared me.
I swallowed hard. “Who are you and what do you want from us?”
He answered my question, but then asked his own. “I’m Vincent; these are my men. How is it that he doesn’t try to eat you? What training methods did you use? Torture?” Something dark, an emotion I couldn’t put my finger on right away, flickered through his eyes as he spoke. He blinked once, twice and then shook himself out of wherever his thoughts had taken him.
He looked at me, his brown eyes empty of emotion. “You’re coming with us Mara, you and your monster Sebastian.”
That was it, no explanation, nothing. Hands latched on to my arms and dragged me towards the truck. I kicked and screamed, no longer caring if the Nevermores heard me. Sebastian, wounded and bleeding out, made no attempt to fight. That scared me more than anything.
The men laughed, making rude gestures at me, pantomiming things I hoped I was misinterpreting. I fought harder, my breath coming in ragged gasps, the skin on my arms burning where the men’s fingers dug into my flesh.
Finally they let me go, but it was only to watch me fall to my knees so they could laugh at me. Tears of anger burned at the back of my eyes, but I held them in.
Feet came into view and I looked up. Mr. Army stood in front of me. “You’re only making this harder on yourself. And I would think the condition you’re in, that’s the last thing you’d want to do.” He made a small motion towards my baby bump.
His eyes softened only a little, but I realized that he was, in his own way, trying to help me. How he knew I was pregnant I could only guess.
I pulled in a deep breath and the scent of the hard packed earth and the dry air filled my nose, which made me sneeze.
“Oh, isn’t that cute,” one of the men said in a high falsetto, sending the men into another bout of laughter. Mr. Army stepped forward and offered me his hand, well worn and calloused. I stared at it, took stock of the bruises and aches throughout my body and let go of my pride. I took the offered hand and the men around us immediately began to catcall and whistle. As soon as I had my feet under me, I snatched my hand back.
With a single snap of his fingers, Mr. Army silenced the men, his eyes once more hard and in control.
“Get the big bastard loaded up. It’s time to leave.”
2
Men rushed forward, securing Sebastian’s hands behind his back with a set of handcuffs and then they dragged him to the back of the large truck. He snarled once and one of the men slammed the butt of his gun into his head, silencing him.
“Don’t hurt him!” I yelled, the pack howling behind me. Nero came running from around the back of the house with a young army guy, who looked barely able to shave, right behind him.
I whistled and Nero ran straight to me, leaping into my arms. I caught him and held him tight. I wouldn’t cry in front of these men, they weren’t worth my tears or emotions.
“You can’t bring the dog with you; we’ve got enough trouble feeding ourselves without adding a mutt to the mix,” Vincent said.
“I’ll feed him off my own plate, but I’m not leaving him behind.”
“I’m not giving you a choice,” Vincent snapped. He reached out and snatched Nero from my arms by the scruff of his neck.
“Stop! Give him back you ass!” I yelled, lunging for him. Vincent smirked at my attempt, cocked his arm and threw the three-month-old puppy over the gate and into the writhing mass of the starving pack.
I screamed; Nero yelped as he hit the ground and then a blur of yellow streaked out from under the pack’s feet and vanished into the bush, three quarters of the Nevermores right behind him. The crashing of underbrush reached our ears, then a high pitched cry, and finally, silence. I spun and punched Vincent as hard as I could, feeling my knuckles pop as my fist connected squarely with his jaw. He stumbled back, tripped on a piece of wood, and fell on his butt.