Two Summers Ago, the World Went to Shit

Chapter 17: Not So Sober Mind

Chapter 17: Not So Sober Mind

Day 1:
     After Walker found me, everything was a blur. I didn't know what he did to immobilize me, and I couldn't remember exactly what happened or how I'd gotten here, in this room. I was stereotypically tied to a chair like some hostage—I guess that's what I was and would be for the time being. My clothes had been removed except for my bra and panties. I felt so uneasy; there was just this strange aura surrounding me. I think I was most afraid of being sexually assaulted than I was being murdered. It was just an uncomfortable feeling to think about the possibilities of being here with these three guys who'd tried it once before. What was their plan? How would this end for me?
I gently tugged at my arms that were behind the chair, looking around at the room. It was unsurprisingly unfamiliar, but I had a feeling we were in one of the houses close to where I'd originally been attempting to hide from them. The room I'd been stuck in was painted light pink with a dated floral comforter made up on the bed; the fabric looked thick and itchy. There were white eyelet curtains lightly covered in dust settled over the windows. I could see a small opening between the curtains displaying a small glimpse of the street. I squinted my eyes trying to see if I could get a clear view of the surroundings outside.
     The house across the street had a concrete sidewalk outside of it that connected and ran into the other homes lined up in the neighborhood. It looked calm—no sound, no movement, no... one. At least, I didn't think there was anyone out there. I didn't expect there to be.
     I sat uncomfortably and exposed in the chair just staring through the curtains for some period of time until I'd seen a person come into view. My heart began racing when I saw that it was Jackson in the street, looking from left to right at the different houses side by side hoping to find me. I tried to fight the restraints, but I had very minimal movement between my hands and feet. I needed to get his attention and let him know that I was here before he got any further away.
"Jackson! Jackson," I screamed as loud as I could.
"Jackson!"
"Ahhh, let me go," I continued with my scream of desperation.
It seemed like no matter how loud I called out, Jackson couldn't hear me; he didn't even budge. I kept trying, hoping he'd come rescue me.
"Jackson!"
"I'm in here," I cried out, now hopelessly lowering my voice.
     A few seconds later, the bedroom door was opened, revealing Walker. He was maliciously laughing as I tugged as hard as I could at the rope around me, now panicking. That was the moment I was certain I would die here, maybe not now, but soon. It was the look on his face that said it all.
"Jackson isn't out there. You're hallucinating," he said walking over to the window.
He grabbed the edges of the curtains and tugged them completely shut, blocking the only view I had to the outside world.
"What do you want from me," I groaned helplessly.
"Revenge," he replied almost immediately as if he'd been waiting for me to ask.
"Just kill me and get it over with," I said in disgust.
"What would be the fun in that, Sammi," he teased as he turned to face me.
The room grew silent for a moment before he spoke again.
"I didn't know I had the ability to be such a... dark person," he continued, "but you've really brought it out of me."
"You drugged me at the bar. You took me back to your apartment with two other guys to try and take advantage of me. You nearly beat me to death in a gas station parking lot while I was pregnant. You've been a dark person," I said angrily.
"I had nothing to do with it," I mumbled.
"And yet, I still don't feel any better," he said placing his thumb on his chin as if he were in deep thought.
"But don't worry Sammi, I will soon enough," he said smiling viciously.
     He walked around to the back of the chair where my arms were positioned. I couldn't see him to know what he was doing, but I could hear him doing something, fumbling around with an object in his hands. I closed my eyes and tried to think of some way out of this as I heard Walker thumping whatever was in his hand with his fingers. I recognized that sound from my days in nursing school. That sound mimicked that of someone trying to remove air bubbles from a syringe when drawing up medicine from a vial. I couldn't see him, but I was almost certain that's what he was doing.
He took a second before speaking again.
"I was in college when I met you, Sammi. I had this future all planned out. I was an honor student with a full ride scholarship. I'd just gotten accepted into med school, but then, the school told me they'd received some calls about me from two different men accusing me of spiking drinks at bars and taking advantage of women. Hmm, I wonder who those two men were," he said getting increasingly angry.
"I didn't know they did that," I admitted.
"Psh, you didn't know th," he began chuckling before spouting out in a rage.
"You ruined my life! I lost everything because of you. My professors, my classmates, they all called me a rapist."
"And then," he chuckled before speaking again, "they paid me a visit at my job, where there they announced to everyone that I was a rapist."
     He wiped over his mouth with his hand and began pacing around in front of me, now revealing the syringe full of a clear substance. I jerked slightly in the chair from fear of what he was planning to do or give me. I'd never known that these things happened to him. He deserved it, but I felt like it was my decision as to whether I shared the story and told everyone the truth about him—me, a victim, not Jackson or Caleb.
"I was fired that day. I lost my scholarship. I was asked to leave campus until the school board decided what to do about me. I had nothing left. So, I went home and put a gun in my mouth, ready to pull the trigger," he said before pausing.
"But, then people were turning into zombies, and the authority that was going to control my life was no longer a problem. I was free again," he laughed psychotically.
"I thought, what are the odds I'd find you again in a zombie apocalypse," he said raising his arms up, shrugging with a devilish smile.
"Then, I found this abandoned van in the middle of the road far from Pocola, and I just had this feeling—you know that feeling," he said pointing at me with a smirk on his face.
He reached into his pocket with his free hand and revealed the amber bottle containing my medication. It had a white label stuck around it where Ryan had handwritten my name and the name of the medication on it for me. Several people back at the hospital had been taking various medications from the pharmacy for illnesses they had prior to the apocalypse or sickness that came after. Ryan had experience as a pharmacy technician before he started medical school, so he helped navigate through refilling medications for those of us taking them within our community living at the hospital. He tried to keep some kind of normalcy to his system by labeling the bottles for us to keep them organized and prevent any mix ups. I never thought it'd be the one thing that helped Walker track me down.
I continued to listen to his words intently while he was talking.
"Now, I've met a lot of people, but I've never met two Sammi's spelled with an I that were batshit crazy," he said turning the bottle around to look down at the medication name.
"I took a pharmacology course my third year in college, and if I'm not mistaken, lithium is indicated for manic bipolar disorder," he said tapping the bottle into the palm of his hand that was still holding the syringe.
I looked at him with hatred in my eyes, unsure of his plan with me.
"Whatever you're going to do, just do it," I began, my voice low.
"Just do it before I fucking kill you," I screamed, fighting the restraints and moving the chair in several directions, making chaotic noise on the wooden floor beneath me.
He raised his eyebrows as if surprised by the reaction I was having. He shoved the pills back into his pocket, now focusing on the syringe again. He removed the plastic cap over the needle and began walking back around to my vulnerable, exposed forearms. I grew tense at the thought of him shoving a needle into my arm; my muscles tightened, and my body was fighting against the ability for me to be calm.
     A few moments later, the blonde friend that was with him that night at the bar entered the room. He had this look of ultimate satisfaction once he saw me in the chair. He took a few steps into the room, just watching me closely.
"What's the plan, Dillion?"
"Dillion?" I asked.
"Oh, that's right, I forgot I told you my name was Walker," he laughed.
     I yanked my arms as much as I could while he positioned himself behind the chair. A couple of seconds later, he shoved the needle into my vein, injecting the unknown substance. He recapped the needle and walked back towards the blonde, Tanner, unless he lied about his name too. Walker, Dillion, whatever his name was, put his arm on his friend's shoulder as the two of them exited into the hallway, leaving the door open behind them.
"We're going to starve her for a few days, make her weak, and then we'll break her bones one by one before we do the grand finale," he said enthusiastically.
     I sat there for some time, anxious and worried, before my body began reacting to whatever he injected me with. I was here, but it was like I wasn't. I felt like my mind wasn't communicating with my body. My hands felt like they weren't even there anymore, but I knew they were. I'm pretty sure I was screaming but my voice didn't come out. My mouth remained closed, and suddenly, I saw Jackson again. He was in the room with me, and I remember feeling so relieved. He was here to rescue me as always.
     Jackson took a few quiet steps over to me when he'd pulled out a pocket knife to cut off the ropes around my wrists and ankles. I sighed deeply and took a look at my wrists to see that there were no marks. They didn't even hurt. Nothing hurt. I felt... good, great even.
     I walked over to Jackson and hugged him so tightly, appreciating his presence and his warmth that always brought me comfort. Once we released our hug and were face to face, he smiled softly at me brushing a strand of hair from my forehead and tucking it behind my ear. He cupped the left side of my face with his hand and gave me the softest kiss on my cheek. I blushed.
"How did you find me," I asked.
"I walked through the area where you got out of the van and tried to trace your steps. I figured when I came out in this neighborhood that you had to be here somewhere," he explained.
I smiled lovingly as I was so happy to be here with him right now. This was exactly what I needed.
"You're always rescuing me," I said sweetly.
     If I could be here with him forever, that'd make me happier than anything in this world. But, when I turned to look back at the chair I'd been tied to, I was confused to find that I was looking back at myself, still tied in the chair. I looked down to see the body I was in possession of but everything was suddenly pixelated—separating from myself or what I thought was myself and this room, this room Jackson was in with me. Where was he?
"Jackson?"
What is going on?