Page 16 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

“Of course. Doctore gave us the night to be together. He says we both deserve the break.” Jonah kisses the top of my head as I shiver at his words. He is in so deep, I don’t think I can pull him out. But I will try.Fight. Survive. Live.

“I love you, Lori.”

My heart skips a beat at his words. Words I had once longed to hear from his lips. But I don’t say it back. I’m not sure I still feel the same way about Jonah. I’m not sure I love him anymore. I am too broken.

Chapter 11

Idon’tknowwhatI thought my life would be in this hellhole of a bunker everyone calls Novus Seclorum—a new age. I knew I was a prisoner, even though I had been granted a night with Jonah. A night I had dreamed of forever. A night I had the chance to experience with Jonah months ago but was too freaked out to give him all of me. All I needed was to break, I guess.

That night I was granted with Jonah recurs occasionally. We eat our meals together most days, which is the only time I really get to see him. Meals are the only indicators of passing time and have allowed me to keep track of how long I’ve been down here. Five months had passed while I was in a medically induced coma, turning into the supposed first human to become immune to zombie bites. Seven more months have gone by, making it an entire year since Jonah and I have been down here. A whole year since I’ve seen the sun.

As a captive, I’ve been given the illusion of freedom. I’m allowed my own prison cell, which looks exactly like Jonah’s, except mine has a window on the door. No privacy for me. Every morning, a guard escorts me through the dimly lit hallways and into a massive cafeteria where the Praetorian Guard, medical staff, and scientists have their meals. I guess I should feel special that I’m allowed to eat here, that I have the privilege of eating two meals a day.

After meal times, I’m escorted back to my prison cell where the door is locked from the outside. In between meals, I’m escorted to the lab where the scientists study me. My body. My DNA. My reactions. I’m a captive lab rat. If I behave well, I get rewarded with a sleepover in Jonah’s room. If I behave really well, I’m allowed to walk the bunker without an escort.

Though I’m mad at Jonah, I still cherish the time I get to spend with someone who knows me, loves me, cares for me. Even in his own fucked up way.

Every subtle move I’ve made to bring Jonah back to rational thinking has failed. He can’t see past this vision of Doctore’s new world. He can’t see the unease and fear I try so hard to show him. He can’t see how wrong everything is around us.

Jonah is too busy to notice with all the training he’s doing. He has a purpose, something that keeps him going. He’s striving for a leadership role in the Praetorian Guard. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes when Jonah told me how he wants to become a legatus, which is like a Roman lieutenant or something. Doctore is freaking obsessed. Everything down in this bunker has been anointed with a name that references ancient Roman times.

Novus Seclorum, a new age in the dawn of a new era in human history. But it’s all backward here. There is no poor or rich in this world. At least in terms of money. Strength, power, and cunning, that’s what you need to survive here. If you don’t have rank, power, or any important skill that benefits the community—or rather, the empire—then all you get is the benefit of shelter.

For the families who have sons and daughters in the Praetorian Guard, they get food, clothes, and comfortable accommodations. But for those who have nothing to sacrifice, they must work for scraps. Young orphans, the elderly, people who aren’t physically capable of joining the guard or clever enough to work in the labs, are only provided with shelter and enough food to sustain them for a long day of work in this power-hungry empire that Doctore has built. If they want more, they must fight for it.

The Colosseum is where the weak and powerless can win additional resources for their survival. It’s not literally the Colosseum from actual Rome. I haven’t seen it with my own eyes, but Jonah explained that it’s an old high school stadium. If you break the rules, you get sent to this outdoor arena. If you challenge someone for a resource, that’s where you fight it out. Most don’t make it back. The ones I’ve seen leave to fight up there, at least.

When I’m granted a free walk through the bunker, I always head down to the slums, or the Pauperem Quartam, as Doctore likes to call it. As a lab rat with perks, I have access to all the best rations. Rations I bring down to the powerless. In particular, to the orphans of Novus Seclorum.

The back section of the slums is set up like a sleepover fort, sheets held up by poles and pillows scattered on the floor. There are countless orphans here, but the ones I always come to see are those who don’t remember what life was like before the zombie outbreak.

The powerless. How can Doctore let these poor children starve? They deserve a chance at life. They are our future.

When I first started coming down here, they treated me like a disease, and were afraid to come near me. They didn’t understand my kindness. But then I brought food, extra clothes, whatever I could steal from the Praetorian Quartam or the lab. They are always grateful for what I can scrounge up.

Today, I smuggled a few pieces of bread from the cafeteria and a towel from the lab. It’s not much, but at least it’s something. A few of the adults who live here also help these children out. There are also some who try to steal from these poor little kids. One day, I’ll try to steal something sharp for them to use as a threat. A thought that makes my stomach churn. But I will do anything to keep these littles out of the Colosseum. I will give them anything they need to stay away from the violence that occurs up there.

Allie is on watch at the front of the fabric fort. Her sweet brown eyes light up when she sees me approach. “Ms. Lori!” she shouts, bringing the other kids out of their hiding spots. All eight of them ranging from the ages of five to twelve.

“Hello, my friends,” I say in a voice coated with sugar. These children are so precious and have no one to trust, to love, to rely on. While I’m down here, I try to be all of those things for them. “Is it all right if I come in?”

“Yes!” they all shout, their little voices filled with unfiltered joy.

Before I settle down on the dank pillows, I pull out my offerings, which they take with more grace than a child being given a giant bowl of ice cream in the before. They are so grateful for anything I can provide for them.

“Ms. Lori?” Evan, one of the smallest of the kids here, looks up at me with pleading eyes. “Can you read us a story?”

“I’m sorry, Evan. I couldn’t find a book. The one thing this bunker lacks is a library.”

“But we have a book!” Nando shouts, then quickly throws his hands over his mouth as if he said a bad thing.

“Let me see,” I say tentatively.

All the kids look at Allie, who nods her head. Evan pulls the book from under a pile of dirty blankets and hands it to me. I recognize it immediately before reading the titleGoodnight Moon. “Do you know this one?” I ask.

Only Allie nods her head. Being the oldest, she probably remembers more of the before than the others. “I’d love to read this to you. But you all need to sit, be still, and listen very carefully.”

I meet no resistance as the children plop down on the pillows all around me instead of in front of me. They snuggle in close, but I still need to turn the book in both directions for them all to see the pictures. I have never seen children so engrossed in a book reading. So focused. So enthralled. It helps keep me grounded as I read, remembering what this story is telling.

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