Page 33 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

“Lori? What are you thinking about?” Alison asks.

I look right into Alison’s almond-shaped brown eyes before answering. “I’m not sure if I’m still imprisoned or if I’m safe here. Amos promised I wasn’t a prisoner, but I can’t help feeling that I am.”

“I see. And why do you feel like a prisoner?”

“I was only allowed to leave my prison cell—the hospital room—under the condition that I see you. I’m escorted everywhere around campus. And Amos, one of the head honchos, just happens to live across from my dorm room where I’m surrounded by three strangers who are no doubt charged with watching my every move.”

Alison takes in every word I say, her eyes never leaving my harsh gaze. “Have you thought that perhaps all of this is in place to keep you safe and make you feel comfortable? You are, after all, in a new place. You do not know how this community functions, nor do you know your surroundings. It seems only right that you have escorts until you find your bearings.”

I huff, “Of course you’d say that.”

“Has anyone threatened you, Lori?”

“No.” I break our eye contact as my head falls down in defeat. My brain keeps going into survival mode, even when I’m safe. Alison is a therapist, not an evil scientist. I’m here for my mental health. But shit, this is going to be hard to quiet my fears.

“Amos, your mother, and the rest of the leaders here only want what’s best for you. There might be a condition for you being here, but we all need to make difficult choices in order for this community to thrive. If you have vital information that can protect us from outside threats or even save others who have been through what you have, I know you will want to help us with that.”

“I don’t know what to say. It’s not like I know what Doctore did to me. Why I can survive zombie bites. And I don’t know where his bunker is. Or the Colosseum. Amos knows the location better than me.”

Alison places the journal in her hands down on the coffee table between us. “I am not asking you to tell me these things, nor do I expect you to. I want you to talk about whatever you wish to discuss.”

I look up at Alison for a moment before shifting my eyes to the window that looks out into a garden. A freaking Peace Garden. Seriously, what is this place? As I stare out at the little bridge over a tiny pond, my mind flashes to Jonah. I haven’t really thought of him since Amos rescued me. I haven’t wanted to. But maybe he is where I should begin.

“My boyfriend betrayed me.” I pause for a long moment, but Alison doesn’t say anything, sensing I have more to share. “Jonah was my everything, even when he wasn’t. I’ve loved him since we were kids. But he was the first to admit his feelings for me. I wish we had more time. I wish he would have chosen me and not Doctore.”

Alison slides in a question as I take a deep breath. “Jonah was at the bunker with you?”

“He most likely is still there. We were captured together. When I woke up in the bunker, I didn’t know if he was alive. It wasn’t until after…after…” Tears burn the corners of my eyes as I try to hold them back. “After my first test. They let him clean me up, all the blood and guts from the people—no—zombies I had put down. One of them was a little girl I tried to save.”

Alison tries to hide a gasp as I continue with my story. “I wanted to trust Jonah. But he was brainwashed already. He believed what Doctore was doing would save the world, and he turned a blind eye to what was being done to me. To others less fortunate than him in the bunker. I think he was instructed to watch my every move, to make sure I fell in line. And I did. I let Jonah do whatever he wanted with my body. I let Doctore experiment on me. I killed for him. I bled for him. I…”

The tears now feel like shards of ice, slicing through my skin, bringing that fear back to the surface. Fear I would use like a shot of adrenaline. My hands shake uncontrollably as I finger a scar that was never there. The one on my stomach. The one I’ve never acknowledged before.

I push the memory back, not wanting to relive the sight of my body cut open as Doctore took what wasn’t his. Closing my eyes against the icy tears of my fear, I squeeze my fists to stop my hands from shaking. It doesn’t work. My whole body is shaking now and I can’t seem to get any more words out.

“Breathe, Lori. Take a deep breath in.” Alison’s voice sounds miles away, but I try to latch on to it like a tether. Every breath is an attempt to pull myself out of the deep despair I’m falling into. But my breaths are shallow, weak, and shaking. I cannot get a good enough grip.

“Lori, listen to my voice. Breathe. You went too deep today and we do not have to go further. I just need you to breathe in slowly and let it out.”

On my next breath, I feel as if I am choking. The tears of my pain are stuck in my throat. Alison’s warm hands find mine in the darkness. She squeezes them as she talks to me, but I can barely hear her words over the pounding in my ears. When the warmth of her hands leaves mine, I know despair will win. Perhaps if a pair of solid arms didn’t wrap me in a cocoon of warm comfort, I would have spiraled completely.

As I attempt to take another breath, a smoky citrus scent hits my nose and I finally relax. Amos.How did he get here?He pulls me off the armchair, lifting me up in his powerful arms. I can’t help but nuzzle closer into him, not yet ready to open my eyes to what my body is clearly imagining. This comfort, this warmth, it is something I never experienced during my time in the bunker. Even with Jonah. His love had turned cold.

“Hey, Copperhead, I’ve got you,” Amos whispers in my ear. The threads of fear that had wound around me during my session with Alison loosen and I can finally take a strong, steady breath.

I keep my eyes closed as I feel movement. Amos holds me tight against him, walking me to an unknown destination. I should feel scared not knowing where he is taking me, but my body relaxes in his arms, trusting him. Trust. That’s also something I hadn’t felt in years. I lost my trust in Jonah as soon as I realized his loyalties weren’t to me. And there was no one else I could trust in the bunker. No friends. No other lovers. No one.

My arms tighten their grip around Amos as he lowers me down. I’m not ready to let go. I’m not ready to forget this feeling of trust, comfort, and love. Love in the way he cares for me so unconditionally. Amos doesn’t owe me anything. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I owe Amos my life. He saved me from hell and has only shown me kindness and sympathy. I don’t want to let go of that.

“It’s okay, Lori. I’m putting you down on your bed. Open your eyes.”

I shake my head against his chest. Then he shifts underneath me, sitting me down on his lap as he lies down with me. Keeping my eyes closed, I ask, “Are you real?”

A shaky laugh escapes Amos’ mouth, the breath of it hitting my forehead. My eyes find his the moment they open. The gold flecks in his eyes are darker, as if clouded by worry.Is this concern for me? My sanity? My wellbeing?How can a stranger show me so much compassion when my boyfriend, the love of my short life, couldn’t?

“Hey, Copperhead. Nice to see those sapphires again. You had me worried.”

Worried. My heart stops for a moment, then the waterworks burst from my eyes. All the pain, anger, fear, hope, and despair I’ve kept inside fall out of me in a torrid of tears. Amos pulls me in closer to him as we lie on my small dorm bed. His arms provide an anchor for me, not allowing me to fall into the pit again as I release the worst of my fears. He holds me like this until my body feels light and sleep takes over.

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