Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 59: A Secret

Chapter 59: A Secret

I could tell the man holding me didn’t believe a word I had said, but I was being completely honest. A deal had been made for his dinner, his favorite gun, and his favorite knife. All he had to have was a bit of trust, and he would see.

"Okay," smiled the man, walking through the door with a giant four on it. "My place is on the 22nd floor, so it will be nice not to have to walk up the stairs.

Just as the door closed behind us, I heard a voice calling out, "Hey, Tank, what’s up, man?"

"Not much, Solo," grunted my guard... Tank. "Just taking my treasure back home. You?"

"Apparently, I’ve got front gate duty," sighed the new man, Solo. "You wouldn’t know anything about that... right?"

"Not a clue," replied Tank with a shrug, but I could feel his chest vibrating against my side as he held back his laughter. "Have fun. It’s colder than a witch’s—" Stopping suddenly, I felt Tank look down at me. "It’s extremely cold outside."

Solo passed by us, brushing against me as he walked toward the stairway he just left. Tank, feeling Solo touching me, took a step back.

"You okay, Lamb?" he asked, running his free hand up and down my arm and back as if to make sure that I didn’t have any cuts on me. "Solo is known for his knife skills. I need to know that he hasn’t hurt you."

"It wouldn’t be the first time I bled," I replied, pointing to the long cut on my face. "But there is no way he can draw my blood that easily. Or at least, there is no way for him to draw my blood and live."

I was getting cranky at people, thinking that they could hurt me, and I was pretty sure that I could make someone’s life a living hell if necessary if they decided to test my patience. But that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t try something... I suppose.

Thinking of all the ways I could torture the next person who touched me without permission, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Death by a thousand papercuts might actually be amusing to watch.

"I put the laugher in slaughter," I whispered out loud before realizing just what I had said. Shuddering just a bit, I remembered the clowns from a few hours ago. Maybe it was too soon for that joke.

I heard Tank laugh softly at my attempt at a joke just as he leaned forward slightly to press the button to the elevator. I even felt him jumping slightly when the door dinged open. "I hope you weren’t planning on dinner tonight."

"Nah," grunted Tank as he stepped tentatively inside the moving box of potential death. "I still get breakfast and lunch today, so I can miss out on dinner without a problem."

As he spoke, the doors of the elevator closed behind us and Tank shifted me just slightly as he pressed the button to our floor. "Welcome to the Dragon’s Lair," he grunted. "I will protect you here."

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Dimitri stared down at his knife as he rhythmically continued to sharpen it on the grinding stone in front of him. He was the only person he knew who still used such old-school methods to sharpen his knives, but there was something almost hypnotically soothing about the process.

"If yous keep that up, yous not gonna have a knife left," muttered Max from where he lay on the cot across from Dimitri.

It had taken them only a day and a half to get to the naval base that Alicia had spoken about and another half day to clean it out of all the zombies inhabiting it. She and René had quickly started ordering everyone around, and for the most part, it was working.

Thanks to Alicia, they had food and supplies to last for more than a year, even with the almost 50 civilians milling around. She even offered to set the guys up with accommodations beside her and René.

They were nothing to sneeze at. Six rooms, apartments really, were decorated to the nines with king-sized beds, a kitchenette, a living room, and everything else to make their lives easier...

Hell, there was even a big screen TV, not that it worked... but it was something.

Dimitri and the others had agreed to split up, each one claiming their own apartment, but that had only lasted a single night. As nice as the rooms were, they lacked enough insulation to keep out the sounds of Alicia and René at night.

The two of them really should be thankful that Dimitri had more self-control than most people associated with him. Otherwise, René would have woken up in a pool of blood.

"Shh," smirked Ronan as he rolled over on his cot. "Dat’s his plannin’ face. He be comin’ up with all sorts of good things."

Luca grunted from where he sat on his cot, his back pressed against a wall. The six of them had moved into a single apartment, the farthest one away from René’s room, and each one had taken a cot, leaving the king-sized bed empty.

None of them would sleep in it until Hattie was back in their lives.

"Are yous really plannin’ our brother’s murder?" asked Désiré. Like Max, he was lying on his cot, one arm stretched behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.

"He should be planning a murder... but is he really your brother anymore?" the seductive voice in Désiré’s head made the man’s face twist with disgust. He hated the voice in his head; it was always playing the devil’s advocate... hinting at the deepest, darkest thoughts in his head and making it seem okay to act on them.

Refusing to address the voice, Désiré continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Want to know a secret?" continued the voice, not at all caring that it was being ignored. "It’s a juicy one."

No matter how tempted he was, there was nothing the voice could tell him that would make him like him. As far as he was concerned, the day there was no more voice would be the first day of the rest of Désiré’s life.