Chapter Five
1536 Words
Joey's eyes flicked open, like the speedy lens on a camera. Only, these eyes had not spent a lifetime collecting beautiful and nostalgic images; they had seen some of the darkest sights imaginable.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and took a few deep breaths, silently assuring himself that it was just a dream. Those clickers couldn't hurt him anymore. He survived.
He ran his fingers across his face, wincing slightly at every scar and stitch they ran along. This wasn't because they were painful, he just despised what he had become. He was a freak. A gruesome patchwork quilt stitched together by Frankenstein himself.
The deep wounds were rough and uneven to touch, like the undulating sand dunes of a desert. The blemishes on his skin mirrored those underneath the surface. He had to relive that harrowing experience every single night, and would forever be haunted by his own very existence.
Joey shuddered one final time, almost feeling the cuts reopen with the slightest movement. In reality, the doctors had fixed him up expertly. After Saunders and his companion had rescued him and taken him to a nearby hospital, they operated immediately.
It appeared they had come to a similar understanding to him and Max, as they replaced his lost blood with donated AB negative.
Saunders later explained that if Joey had escaped turning into a clicker even after all those bites, he had to be immune.
Unfortunately, the doctors were still unable to find a cure.
As soon as Joey had recovered, he swore to himself that he'd finish what he and Max had started. He would help find that cure, but it was no longer for purely selfless reasons.
That first look in the mirror after his operation changed him. He no longer believed that every life was sacred. How could he, when he was stood facing a monster? How was this fair? No, he swore to himself that he would build an army of followers, help find a cure, and rise to power in the new world.
He'd always lived his life by a moral code, and look where it had gotten him. Good things came to those who took them, and it was his turn to take.
He slipped into some loose clothes, keeping his chin up as he did so, to avoid the sickening sight of his own scarred body.
He had limited hot water and electricity here, thanks to the clever people he had surrounded himself with, but he had business to tend to.
He made his way to the lab, the harsh, cold stone against his feet reminding him that he was alive. He enjoyed those subtle feelings now.
"Any news" he asked authoritatively as he entered the room.
Despite an old, rustic appearance, the lab was kitted out with the most state of the art equipment, all powered by a series of generators. The gentle whirr of electricity and the light bleeping of monitors filled the air.
"Nothing new since yesterday I'm afraid," Doctor Saunders replied, tending to a few vials of samples.
Joey paused, staring across at Saunders, almost looking disappointed.
"Sir," the Doctor added.
Joey's lust for power worsened by the day.
"But you're still close?" he asked impatiently.
"I don't know if close is the word Sir, but these are the most promising samples we've seen since this all started."
"How long will this take?" Joey seethed.
"I'm afraid I just can't say! But me and my team are working as fast as we can, if you'll just give us more time, please Sir," Doctor Saunders pleaded.
"You're lucky I'm in a lenient mood Saunders, but I warn you, time is not an infinite resource for you!" Joey spat as he turned to exit the lab. "I expect an update tomorrow."
"Yes Sir!"
Joey was in a worse mood than usual now as he stormed off towards the cells.
***
Lizzie stared at the wall. Her eyes were sore and bloodshot, partly from the tears, partly from the lack of sleep. This was her life now. Four walls.
She'd spent so long in this cell that she even knew the subtle differences between each of them. Each wall had a different brick pattern, different marks, and scratches; she knew them all by heart.
She tried not to cry anymore. Not because she wasn't sad, or that it didn't solve anything, the dehydration was just too much to bare. The water they gave her was sparse, just enough to keep her alive and healthy enough to give blood.
She didn't know where she was. She didn't know where Max was; God she wanted to know where he was. How could he leave her like this? Every day she expected that metal cell door to come crashing in, and for him to be standing the other side, and ice-cream in each hand.
She feared she would be waiting for that until her last day.
The temptation to end it grew stronger and more appetising with each passing hour, day, week; time had become impossible to track in honesty. But she knew that she couldn't last much longer.
"Are you okay?" a soft voice called from the far side of the cell.
"Can't complain, you?" Lizzie replied.
Sky had been thrown into the cell a couple of weeks after Lizzie, and while it was nice to have someone to talk to, the conversation often reminded her too much of the outside world. It just made her crave freedom even more.
"Yeah," Sky sniffed.
She was the same age as Lizzie, but that's where their similarities ended really. Sky was quiet, and often spent the days curled up in a ball in the corner. She tried to put on a brave face, but she wasn't as tough as Lizzie, and was finding this cruel confinement difficult.
Her blonde pig-tails and bright pink flowery dress almost epitomised her personality perfectly. She was a child, a scared child. After all, that's really all that could be expected.
Lizzie was just an exception. She had always been brave, and older than her years; but even she was starting to break.
"This place won't be getting five stars on Trip Advisor, that's for sure," Lizzie joked.
Sky giggled. It was nice to relieve the burdening weight on her shoulders, even for a split second.
"So, tell me more about before. What was your life like?" Lizzie asked, knowing full well that all it would do is force her to think of her mum. That was painful.
Sky was interrupted before she could even release a squeak.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Lizzie remained silent, she wouldn't humour him and his sick games.
"Anyone in?" Joey called. "Oh my, I guess there's been a daring escape!" he cried sarcastically.
The thin hatch at the top of the door shot open, before Joey feigned a surprised gasp.
"Oh, thank God! She's still here! Where she always is."
The locks clicked and groaned with the heavy grinding of metal on metal before the door slowly heaved open.
"You're nothing but reliable! I'll give you that," he smiled.
There was no point running. She wouldn't entertain him like that. She merely looked up at him, knowing that anything else would prevent his eventual leaving.
"Just thought I'd pop in and have one of our daily catch ups! Look, I even brought you some refreshments!"
Joey threw a lump of bread in Lizzie's vague direction, and extended hand containing a small glass of water. Lizzie continued to look up at him, not giving him the satisfaction of any reaction.
Joey gestured towards the glass with a nod of the head, his smile and his eyes as wide as each other.
Lizzie sighed, leaning forward to accept the water.
"Ooh actually, do you know what?" Joey said, pulling back his arm, ever so slightly out of Lizzie's reach. "I'm parched."
He took a large swig from the cup, leaving little more than half the water remaining.
"Ah, that's better!" he gasped. "I'm sure you understand."
He handed the water back to Lizzie, who took it begrudgingly, half expecting him to pull it away again. No matter what, he needed her alive. Lizzie imagined that pained him.
"I thought, that me and you, could have a little catch up! You know, I feel like I know nothing about you!" Joey clapped enthusiastically.
"Where are you from?" he asked.
Lizzie sat in silence.
"What music do you like?"
Silence.
"What's your favourite film?" he asked, with a more insistent tone.
"Scarface," Lizzie replied, without a hint of emotion on her face.
Joey's fake enthusiasm quickly turned to anger.
"You act smart for someone who's locked away in a cell!" Joey hissed. "Do you ever wonder why Max hasn't come back for you? It's because he never cared about you, just like he's never cared about anyone but himself!"
Lizzie continued to stare back at him, even daring to take a victory sip from her water.
Joey slapped the glass from her hands and it smashed to the floor. The water dripping out and flowed through the cracks in the brick. Even though it was only a few mouthfuls, it seemed like a gushing river to Lizzie. She could feel her mouth getting dryer just looking at it stream away from her.
"You're going to be in here a very long time, little girl. No one is coming for you, simply because nobody loves you!" Joey spat. "Have a nice day."
And with that, the door was locked and he was gone.
Lizzie tucked into her bread, and for the first time in weeks, she smiled.
- Writer
