Page 20 of One Flew Over the Omega's Nest: Part One
The girls look at me like I'm crazy, but I'm not the one who stalked her ex-boyfriend so hard he had to change his name and flee the country.
No, that would be Linda, the judgmental little bitch sitting diagonally across from me.
"Well, ladies," I sigh, tucking Turnip safely back in my pocket. "It's been my absolute pleasure, but I think I'm gonna try to catch a nap before dinner."
Adela pouts slightly, but I give her a tight smile. "I'll see you at dinner, Addie?"
Her face lights up. "Alright, see you!"
She really is adorable. I need to figure out how to make sure her and her baby are out of harm’s way when I take this place down.
nine
Jo
Ihate lying to the precious angel that is Adela, but I definitely did not try to take a nap. I know the girls claim there are no omegas matching Mabel’s description in Zombieland, but I have to see it for myself.
The building looms over me in the courtyard, and I swallow roughly as I look up, my eyes running over the details of the stained glass. The sun is setting behind the building, casting a huge shadow over me, and I know I’m garnering a few looks from the courtyard dwellers.
I can’t help it though, the art…something about it is niggling at me. The woman has white-blonde hair, just like Mabel, and the one eye that’s open on the devil side is more blue than the ocean.
The similarities send a shiver through me and I try to shake myself out of it.
It’s just a coincidence.
Pretty big one considering the crime scene photos I saw after I found out about why she was shipped here.
There are too many people with eyes on me in the courtyard, so I go around the side of the building, hoping there’s a more discreet entrance, and…bingo.
A small door on the side of the building reads “Staff Only”, but as luck would have it, the door opens easily when I turn the handle. I suppose they don’t have to worry about people sneaking in usually, and the patients are too doped up to make a break for it.
As soon as I’m behind the door, my eyes widen in shock,
While the interior of the main buildings are shiny and new, this one looks like it hasn’t been updated in fifty years. Buzzing, yellow lights flicker on the ceiling, the wallpaper is peeling, and the linoleum tile looks like it’s about forty years old. The hallway is long and narrow, closed doors lining the walls.
Not a soul in sight.
Unsettling feeling in my gut, I wander down the empty corridor, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest. I’m sure a squeak from a mouse could make me jump and scream at this point, and as if sensing the direction my thoughts have taken, Turnip climbs out of my pocket, her little claws digging into the material of my jumpsuit as she scales up and onto my shoulder.
“I agree, it is creepy,” I whisper, and she squeaks in confirmation. There are no security cameras. No sounds. I wouldn’t be surprised if an empty wheelchair rolled out from behind a corner.
The thought of Mabel being in a place like this has my gut twisting.
Then, I hear it. It’s faint, and it has the background fuzz that tells me it's coming through an old radio. A song from…what, the fifties? Because that’s not creepy as hell.
I follow the music, my hair standing on end as my footsteps echo on the floor. I reach the end, hang a left, and then…I see them.
Gray and orange hospital gowns, at least twenty alphas and betas. But no purple.
No omegas.
They’re all sitting around tables, staring into nothingness. One has half a puzzle done on a table, and is just staring out the window.
There’s a few tv’s playing some old reruns of sitcoms, with some patients staring slack-jawed at the screens.
Not an orderly in sight.
It’s like I’ve walked into some kind of weird wax museum where the sculptor really had a thing for horror movies.
