Caged (Troy Otto x OC)

Chapter 12

The rest of the week went by uneventfully. I got my weapons back, which were initially confiscated. I now have them hidden in various spots around my room and on my person, just in case. I was able to remove the remainder of my sutures, and my face was returning to its normal color. The cut on my face was still an angry red that would eventually fade into a scar and I still had a bit of yellowish green bruising on my jawline, along the bridge of my nose and under my eyes, but I was now bearable to look at.

Blake and I have been hanging out during our down time. Well, essentially all of the time. Even when we are training or on patrol, we are together. It feels nice to have a friend again. Some of the other guys are growing on me too. Not all of them are psychotic, like Willy and Troy. Most of them were regular kids until the world blew up.

Blake and his friend Kyle were both juniors at UCSD when this all started and Troy found them out on a supply run. Kyle's little brother, James was about to start university the following fall. A couple others went to colleges in other states, and some were even in highschool when the world went to shit. I couldn't imagine turning 18 in an apocalypse. Highschool seems so long ago. Honestly, college seemed so long ago. I was set to graduate University this spring and start working as a 'real' adult.

Look where we are now.

Both Troy and Willy have been avoiding me for the entirety of this week. Ever since the events that took place in the infirmary, Troy has been unable to make eye contact with me. Honestly I see it as a victory, but I was just starting to have fun playing this little game of his. Him, Willy and Steve have been spending a lot of their off time in the basement laboratory, doing whatever research Troy is conducting.

There was also a rumor going around that Troy found a couple people who snuck onto the base last night during patrol. I guess he has had them holed up in his office, like he did with me. They said it was a middle aged woman and a girl around my age. Mother and daughter most likely. I couldn't help but hope that Troy doesn't hurt them. He had ways of getting information, but I think a lot of it was the pleasure he found in inflicting pain.

Blake, Kyle and I were standing in line, waiting to get our lunch trays when I felt eyes on me. I look over my shoulder, scanning the cafeteria. My eyes eventually landed on Troy, who was standing by the door, staring me down. For some reason, unknown to me, I could tell that he wanted to talk to me. I slipped out of line without Blake and Kyle noticing, as they were in some sort of heated debate about video games, pre-apocalypse.

I walk straight past Troy and out the door, he follows directly behind me.

"What do you want, Troy?" I cross my arms over my chest, staring up at him.

"I need your assistance." His face was stoic, more so than usual.

"With what exactly?" I raised an eyebrow, curious as to what he could possibly need me for.

"I am aware of the rumors swirling about the trespassers."

"And? What does that have to do with me?" I questioned, genuinely confused.

"One is injured and requires some medical attention." So he hurt one of them and wants me to clean up his mess. He probably carved the women up, like he did to me.

"Based on the fact that you are bleeding through your uniform, I take it that you were the one that inflicted the injury, and she was fighting back?"

"She attacked and I defended myself." I could tell he was getting mildly annoyed with my questioning.

"Oh, I'm sure that is exactly how that went. Just like when you tortured me." I rolled my eyes and turned away to go back inside.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward him, keeping his grip on my arm. It was loose, but still present. I saw something in his eyes, something that resembled a glimmer of sadness when I brought up his actions. "I still require your assistance."