Page 14 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

I stare at the guards—both men—waiting for them to leave or turn around. The tall one with beach-blonde hair has the audacity to smile at me. Thankfully, the other man, short but built with muscles, grabs the tall one and walks over to the entrance of the locker room. As I step into the large shower room, the damp floor makes my feet slippery.

Holding onto the wall, I find a corner of the room where I feel secure enough to remove my prison clothes. I toss the shirt and joggers near the doorway, but I don’t turn the water on. The sight of blood caking on my fingertips, running down my arms, and coating my feet makes me sick. I dry heave, catching myself as I fall to the floor. Nothing comes up. There’s nothing inside me as I haven’t eaten real food for who the hell knows how long.

Then a dam opens up inside me, releasing every emotion I’ve felt since I found myself in hell. Since I lost everything. I scream and cry at the wall as if it’s responsible for everything I have been through since I saw my first zombie.

I punch at the tile, feeling nothing. So I punch again, and again, and again. I keep punching until I crack the tiles and I still feel nothing. When I look down at my hand, the bones are already mending and my skin stitches itself back together.

What the hell?

I stare at my knuckles, probably wasting all the time I’ve been given to clean myself up. But I’m fascinated. How is it possible that my broken hand can heal so quickly? Is this part of the mutation too?

“Oh my God, Lori. Are you okay?”

In slow motion, I turn my head to see Jonah, as beautiful as I remembered him in my dreams.Okay, now I know I’m going crazy.I think to myself.

My hallucination crouches down beside me, and I can feel the ghost of his touch, but it’s real. “Wait, are you really here?” I ask.

“Yes, Shortcake, I’m really here.” Jonah gathers my naked body to his strong, lean, clothed body.

“When did you get all these muscles?” I poke at his arm, testing its strength, but it doesn’t give.

“We can talk about that later. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” I nod into his chest, but I’m unwilling to let him go, so he lifts me up effortlessly and brings me over to an unbroken part of the shower. Without letting me go, he turns on a faucet, testing the water before walking us both under the hot streams.

I sigh in relief as the hot water washes away the blood staining my hair and body. It has been ages since I took a hot shower. We lost power four months after prom, which was one of the reasons we started making plans to leave our little safe corner of the world.

Jonah sits me down on the ground so that the streams of water can still reach me, and pulls a piece of soap from a pouch in his pocket. He lathers it in his hands before placing it on a little shelf on the wall. Kneeling before me, he scrubs the creamy froth over every inch of my skin. I barely feel a thing, though the ritual is soothing. As Jonah massages my scalp, I feel a little tingly. Perhaps I just need to relax.

A strangled cry vibrates from my throat as Jonah’s fingers detach from my hair. I don’t want him to stop and I’m about to say as much when he stands up and says, “Rinse up. I’ll grab you some fresh clothes.”

Before he turns around, Jonah helps me up, our eyes locking on each other for a moment. He seems different, but I can’t place it. Then he turns around, and the thought disappears. Jonah is alive. He is here. He is taking care of me.

Jonah returns with a towel and a fresh pair of gray joggers with a gray t-shirt. I guess I haven’t upgraded from test subject prison garb. That’s when I realize Jonah is wearing a similar outfit, but all in black. I quickly dry off, twisting my hair to release any access water. It’s gotten longer, now down past my collar bone. At prom, it only just touched my shoulders.

When I look up, I catch Jonah staring at me. I clear my throat to get his attention, making him blush. Jonah has seen me naked before. But there’s something different in his eyes this time.

As he tosses me my dry clothes, he says, “Sorry. It’s been a while. I miss you.”

“How long have we been in this place?” I ask, pulling the t-shirt over my head.

“Five months. Your birthday just passed actually. So, happy birthday,” Jonah says with a smile.

The shock of his words causes me to lose balance as I step into the joggers. Nineteen. I’m nineteen now. Jonah catches me with a quick reflex and those strong muscles. I had a feeling we’d been down here for a long time, but hearing the truth from him has my mind reeling.

“Come on. You need to get some rest.”

“Apparently I’ve been asleep for five months,” I huff.

Jonah takes a step away but remains close to me, allowing me to steady myself before walking out of the shower. I realize I still don’t have any shoes on, nor did Jonah give me any. Looking down at his feet, Jonah is wearing heavy combat boots.

“Do I get a pair of those?” I ask, pointing to his shoes.

“I wasn’t provided with a pair to give to you, but I can ask.” The way Jonah talks so casually about this place makes the hair on my neck stand on edge. But I follow him out of the locker room without hesitation. My two guards are nowhere nearby. I should feel better about that, but something inside tells me this is not right.

How can Jonah have free rein of the place only five months after arriving here? And it’s not like we are honored guests. We were captured. Jonah put up a fight and was knocked out cold. We didn’t have a choice. They brought us here against our will. Strapped me to a gurney for five months, pumping some kind of serum into me that mutated my genes, making me immune to zombie bites and wall punches.

What have they done to Jonah while I was asleep?

Chapter 10

---