Thicker than Blood (31 page)

I surveyed the caged infected, noting that
all of them had once been women. Some were naked, their sagging
breasts and rotting genitals exposed to all who cared to look,
while others were dressed in skimpy, sexy clothing, much like the
ensemble I was wearing.

All in all, it was a heartbreaking sight.
Yes, they were no longer human. Yes, they were monsters who, if
given the chance, would destroy every last one of us. But once upon
a time, back when the world had been something worth remembering,
they had been people—women. Mothers, sisters, daughters, and
friends. Why couldn’t these people see that? Didn’t they remember?
Didn’t they care?

“But why?” I stammered out between choking
breaths.

“Because nothing goes unpunished around here,
and men like to be victorious over their conquests.”

I frowned harder as my head began to pound.
What was wrong with these people that they would think there was
anything okay with any of this? Did they find it sexually
satisfying? Seeing women caged and rotting away? Sick to my
stomach, I clasped my belly as it twisted in on itself, matching
the fear that climbed up my spine.

“Listen to me,” Mattie said forcefully as she
took my shoulders in her firm grip. “If you cry, you’re going to
ruin your makeup. Makeup is hard to come by these days, only
reserved for my prettiest girls. I’d hate to have to punish such a
beautiful face for something as trivial as makeup.”

When I heard her words, the tears welling
behind my eyes froze. I blinked repeatedly, trying to squelch any
errant drop that dared to leak free.

“I was told you were from the wild,” Mattie
said, frowning at me. “Forgive me, honey, but you don’t strike me
as near tough enough to survive out there among the rotters.”

My lips flattened, my nostrils flared, and I
swallowed back any last shred of pain I was feeling for the caged
infected. “I am from the wild,” I said thickly. “I’m just not an
animal.”

Mattie clucked her tongue at me. “Now that’s
where you’re wrong,” she said, her tone as smooth as melted butter.
“We’re all animals. Always were. The only difference is we’re no
longer caged.”

A vision of Lawrence, snoring peacefully in
our bed, danced behind my eyes. And then of me, holding that blade
over his body, my eyes wide, my hands shaking, my heart
bursting…

Folding my arms across my chest, I cleared my
throat and glanced around. “Which cage is mine?”

Mattie smiled. “Atta girl.”

• • •

It was an eerie thing, an odd conglomeration of past
and present—residents of this new world, dancing and drinking,
laughing and shouting to the rhythms of the old world. It was a
head-on collision of what was and what would never be again, much
like the famous paintings lining the walls marred by graffiti.

It felt wrong, it looked wrong, like a dream
you couldn’t seem to shake. You woke up again and again, only to
fall asleep and pick back up right where you’d left off. The moment
the doors had opened and the crowd noisily poured inside, an odd
sort of haze quickly enveloped me, leaving me feeling surreal, as
if I were floating along a breeze, an incorporeal essence, and
everything around me…only a mirage.

Still, I danced. I danced and I danced and I
danced to the beats of yesteryear. To rap music, to hip-hop, to
show tunes, and to the oddly thrown-in recordings of car
commercials and the closing credits of television sitcoms. Every so
often a wild-looking man would jump on top of the bar, yelling
obscene things into a microphone, further winding the crowd up to
the point where, even as barbaric as it was, I was glad to be
locked in a cage and hanging high out of reach.

All around me, both men and women were
crowded together, some half-naked, others entirely nude, their hair
plastered against their faces, their sweaty bodies straining. They
danced and they sang as they guzzled drink after drink, groping one
another. Some even decided to have sex right then and there—on the
floor, up against the wall, bent over a table or the bar—their
shame left at the door.

Even stone-cold sober, I felt drugged by it
all…the atmosphere, the barely restrained violence, the fervent
sexuality oozing from every pore of every person.

Somewhere in this room full of bodies were
Alex and Evelyn, since both of them insisted that they’d be present
despite my protests. I’d thought, at first, that their presence
would make the whole awful situation that much worse for me, like
having an audience to your shame. Only now, unable to pinpoint
anyone’s face or even distinguish between the sexes, I no longer
cared. In fact, I was glad for it. Glad that somewhere among all
this insanity was a tether to what remained of my sanity.

And so I danced. I danced slowly, I danced
wildly, I danced sexually. I raised my arms above my head and
danced to the beat of my own drum. I sent my hands skimming down my
body, feeling my way through the music and the wants of the
screaming crowd.

I danced and danced, and I ignored them all.
They shouted requests for me to take off my clothes, to pull my
underwear to the side, to flash them my breasts. I ignored the
glasses and lit cigarettes thrown at my cage, much as I ignored my
dance partner, the infected hanging no more than three feet from
me, bumbling around to a hungry beat only it could hear.

I ignored and ignored and I just danced,
losing myself to it all, and yet strangely felt as if I’d found
some long-lost piece of myself in the midst of it all.

When the sun finally rose, the bar emptied
except for a few straggling employees. My cage was lowered, and
Alex was there waiting for me.

“Hi,” I whispered as I stumbled forward.

Alex’s dark eyes burned. He seemed so
incredibly alive in that moment, as if he were actually lit from
within, his fire radiating from the inside out.

“Say something,” I said softly, placing my
hand on his chest. Beneath my palm, I could feel his heart
racing.

“I wanted to hate it,” he said slowly through
gritted teeth. “You up there locked inside a cage looking…like
that.” His feverish gaze dropped down, taking in every exposed inch
of me. My stomach flip-flopped, and I nearly found myself preening
in the face of his admiration, even as lust-fueled as it was.

“And these sick shits watching you,” he
continued as his eyes glazed over. “Wanting to touch you, and…” He
swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving me.

“But you didn’t hate it,” I finished gently
for him.

His teeth clenched, and he shook his head
slowly. “I didn’t hate it.”

“And?” I prompted him, wanting—no, needing—to
hear what he couldn’t seem to bring himself to say.

“I’m not like them, Leisel,” he ground out,
his eyes flashing angrily as they refocused on me. “I know I’m not
like them.”

My hand fisted in his shirt, and I tugged him
down until our faces were nearly touching. “I know,” I whispered.
“But you can tell me. You can tell me you liked it, and it won’t
change anything.” I needed to hear it from him, felt it desperately
in the pit of my stomach.

He stared into my eyes, his heart pounding a
furious beat beneath my fist. Then his hand slid from my back to my
backside where he grabbed hold of me, bringing me flush against his
body, his hand squeezing possessively. I could feel him, all of
him, hard and eager, his body tense, yet trembling just beneath the
surface. I knew we were being watched, could hear the whispered
giggles from some of the other girls, but I didn’t care. Nothing
else mattered in this one moment.

“I liked it,” he admitted, his voice
hoarse.

I let out a sigh of relief and fatigue. I was
exhausted, tired, and sore to the point where I knew I wouldn’t be
able to stand upright for much longer. But this moment, it was an
important one, a turning point in both my life and Alex’s, in our
blossoming relationship, in finding our places within a world we
hated, and I didn’t want to dismiss it or him.

“Alex,” I said, arching my neck and brushing
my lips against his. “I liked that you liked it.”

What I didn’t say, what I couldn’t even admit
to myself, was that some small part of me had liked it as well.
Though, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.

Evelyn

It was midday before Leisel finally began to stir,
and Alex still had yet to sleep. After carrying her back to our
room, her cradled against his chest, he’d held her for hours,
watching her sleep, staring at her so intently, so full of sexual
energy, that I barely recognized him. Gone was the silent,
brooding, usually moody man who’d saved our lives. This was an
infinitely more sexual version of Alex, reminiscent of a man
possessed.

As for me, I hadn’t been able to stomach an
entire night of watching Leisel dance in that ludicrous cage,
watching the men and women below her using her body as a sexual
stimulant, pleasuring themselves as they stared up at her. But
Alex, he’d been the opposite, seemingly obvious to everyone else in
the room, to anyone but her. With his hands shoved deep into his
pockets, his eyes glazed over with raw fascination as he simply
stared.

He was still staring. Leisel hadn’t had the
energy to even change her clothes when we’d gotten back to our
room. Sprawled across the dirty mattress, she was still wearing the
same provocative ensemble, and Alex still couldn’t seem to take his
eyes off her.

I, however, was staring at the delivery that
had arrived a few hours ago for Leisel. Leisel’s old clothes, and
her payment for services rendered—a pitiful bag of canned food,
bottled water, and a single T-shirt emblazoned with a trucking
company’s logo. That was her wages for an entire night of dancing
nearly naked, for giving those greedy bastards a part of her she
never should have had to. And how had she been repaid? With
virtually nothing. Her soul and her pride were only worth a couple
of meals and a lousy T-shirt.

Even worse was the stream of visitors we’d
had. Mattie had dropped by first, informing us that Leisel would be
working again tonight. After that, two men had knocked, wanting to
speak with Alex. I hadn’t told him what they had wanted, how they
had tried to barter for Leisel’s body. Then Liv had graced us with
her horrible presence, simply to inform us that Alex and I would
both be participating in the fights today.

Through it all, Leisel had slept.

“Do you think we should wake her?” I asked
Alex softly.

“No,” he replied without bothering to look my
way, his gaze fixed firmly on her sleeping form.

My shoulders slumping, I turned back to
Leisel’s insulting payment and fell silent again, wondering what it
would be like to be a man in this new world instead of a woman.
Wishing, not for the first time, that Leisel and I didn’t have to
rely on Alex for safety, unable to trust anyone or anything.

“Will you be okay?” Alex asked suddenly, and
I turned to face him, surprised.

“What?”

“The fight,” he said, finally looking away
from Leisel. “Will you be okay?”

My brows raised; I was shocked that he was
even asking. “I think so,” I said slowly. “I guess it depends on my
opponent.”

What I didn’t say was that I wondered if it
was going to be worth it. After seeing Leisel’s meager earnings, I
couldn’t help but doubt it would be. It just made it clearer to me
that we needed to bargain, beg, or earn what we could as quickly as
we could, and then get the hell out of here. Sooner rather than
later.

Alex suddenly stood, towering over me as he
rolled his shoulders. His usual scowl missing, he looked younger
somehow, more like the young man he would have been if the world
hadn’t gone to hell.

“Do you even know how to fight, Eve?” He
quirked one thick, dark eyebrow in question.

Rolling my eyes, I snorted out a laugh. “Yes,
Alex. I know how to fight.”

“Show me,” he said as he slowly approached
me, his hands raised, his palms facing front.

I shrugged, figuring a bit of practice might
actually be good for me. Who knew what kind of training my opponent
would have? Plus, I hadn’t fought in years.

Getting to my feet, I shifted my body into
position, raising my arms and curling my hands into fists.
Smirking, Alex circled me, assessing and judging my stance until he
was once again standing in front of me.

“You’ve fought before,” he said with a small
smile, appreciation warming his eyes.

“Three years of kick boxing.”

Leisel’s quiet voice shocked us both, and
immediately I dropped my arms and rushed to her side. As I knelt on
the floor beside the mattress, Alex took a seat beside her on the
bed.

“So, did I earn my millions last night?” She
laughed softly, looking at me. “Am I famous now?”

“You did great,” Alex answered. Glancing over
top of her head, he gave me a stony look, silently telling me to
keep my mouth shut regarding her pathetic earnings.

“More than great,” I said, my smile suddenly
strained. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” she replied. “Please tell me we got
some food.”

“Sure did.” I turned away, reaching into the
bag to rifle through it. I chose one can in particular, mostly
because it looked to be in better shape than the rest, and pulled
it free.

“Creamed corn?” I asked, doing my best to
sound cheerful. Leisel’s eyes flickered to the can in my hand, a
sad-looking little thing that had probably been traded back and
forth a hundred times before coming to us.

Meeting my eyes, a small frown furrowed her
forehead as Leisel slowly shook her head. “Tell me there’s more
than that.” Her eyes stay glued to mine, watching me intently.

“Of course there’s more!” I laughed gently.
“There’s split pea soup, pickled asparagus, and canned pasta.”

Her eyes wide, Leisel looked from me to Alex.
“That’s it?”