Two Summers Ago, the World Went to Shit

Chapter 24: Never Be Like You

Chapter 24: Never Be Like You

When I was younger, I had nightmares quite often. I'd wake myself up gasping for air or from my heart pounding against my chest. I always thought it was scary because these nightmares would be of me and three teachers chasing after me in the dark. I knew their names, and I saw their faces in these dreams. But I never actually met them or even knew they existed in real life; I just saw them as characters I'd dreamt up to torture my mind as it slept.
Then one day at school, I found an old yearbook on a shelf in my classroom with each teacher pictured and the names and faces I'd given them in my bad dreams. They were actual people, and oddly enough, they were all dead in real life. Isn't that strange?
My mind had these capabilities that scared even myself. How do you dream about real people without ever seeing them? It happened multiple times with the same teachers tormenting me in my sleep for an entire year. I started a journal to document each creepy, intrusive nightmare I had, adding to it immediately after waking up because it was easy to forget them as quickly as they happened when I'd wake up.
For some reason, they motivated me to remember them. Maybe I wanted to remember them so that I could see my life could always be worse—I  could've been living the life of the girl in my dreams—running from symbolic, foreshadowing death I didn't pick up on until now. I really was the girl from my dreams, running from death—mine and those who were already dead, chasing me. It's funny how that works.
Maybe I deserved this. Maybe this was my fault, my choices that led up to this. Now I was feeling a sense of deja vu, a re-occurrence it seemed these days, finding myself with a broken bone in the middle of an apocalypse when I should absolutely not have a hindrance in my ability to walk—run.
I was not looking forward to feeling like a burden or feeling like a prisoner to the bed again. I think that was when I really got inside of my own head. I was already laying here thinking about how depressed and unattractive I felt when I was pregnant with Grace. I remembered the way  it created this disconnect between me and Jackson. We had this weird hiatus in our relationship that I was afraid would happen again. Not to mention, Jackson found himself in a room with Lucy when I was pregnant.
A part of me still subconsciously thought he'd wished something had happened between them. Maybe he was curious about what else was still out there. Maybe he thought at the time that I was the last woman on Earth. Did he feel trapped? Did he stay with me because he was worried that I'd get myself killed from the consuming sadness and constant state of feeling alone? Didn't he know that it was so easy to feel alone in a world where there were more dead than there were living?
We could try to escape the overwhelming sense of isolation in this world, or we could continue societal norms for repopulating, creating families and dynamics. But was that realistic? Was it morally ethical to continue bringing lives into a world that possibly could never be rebuilt? Or was it just me looking for an excuse to feel withdrawn from this pregnancy so when it came time to terminate I could detach and let my sad emotions dissipate into the harrowing air?
Pregnancy just had this sort of negative connotation attached to it for me. I didn't see it as this nurturing, organic experience that had maternal, picturesque moments radiating the celebration of a new life. It could've been because being pregnant in an apocalypse was much different than being pregnant a year ago when the world wasn't shit, but I wouldn't know. I'd only ever experienced it one way.
An abortion with this baby wasn't even a way out if that was what I wanted. Terminating this baby only meant there would another one, one we'd pluck pieces from like the operation game. I found no comfort whatsoever in any of this, and I didn't think I would until I had the cure in my body with no more visions or seizures. None of this mattered until then, but even so, I could terminate this healthy and pure baby that Jackson and I created only to produce a donor baby for a cure that still may or may not work.
Oh, and by the way, let's not forget about the sketchy ass doctor and lab assistant that were holding who knew how many girls hostage in their dormitory building. That could cause many problems in our fight for a cure.
I felt like at one point I could talk to Gage about mostly anything even though I'd initially had a weird off-putting  vibe from him. I just didn't understand why a guy that looked like him would need to kidnap girls. I wanted to talk to him about it, but I wasn't sure how loyal he was to Keith. Once I told him I knew, my fate was in his hands. He could either tell Keith and them try to kill us or get rid of us, or he could give me some sort of logical explanation. Unfortunately, I found it difficult to believe that there was any reason he could give me that excused this.
The longer I laid in the bed, the worse I felt about everything. I was so anxious that Keith would come by to snoop on us and see if we acted suspicious. I'd hoped he would take time to reassess his current problem at hand and assume we had no involvement, but that would be ambitious of me.
Jackson had been lying beside me in the bed, and luckily with Sophie once being a nurse, she was able to somewhat doctor me up with makeshift supplies and bandages they found in various rooms. While I was grateful and appreciative of their gestures, I needed surgery or something in order for my leg to properly heal. I was afraid that wasn't going to happen.
An hour or so after the nerves had simmered down between everyone, Gage showed up to my dorm room. We were on edge, but honestly I felt better knowing it was Gage and not Keith. For some reason I still trusted him. So, when Caleb opened the door and saw him, he played along as if nothing in our lives had changed, until of course he saw my leg which would be impossible to keep a secret for long.
"Hey Caleb, I was looking for Sammi. I was hoping I could talk to her for a minute," he said.
Caleb turned to look back at me as I gave him a nod of approval.
Jackson stood up from the bed before kissing me on the cheek and following Sophie and Caleb out into the hallway. Gage entered the room and shut the door behind him. He took slow steps towards me as if he were more nervous than I was. I sat up in the bed as he came over to sit on the edge beside me. He took a deep breath before releasing it anxiously.
"I know that you know about the dorms," he said looking over at me.
I swallowed deeply, wondering if I should even try to lie, but I didn't.
"Gage," I began before he interrupted.
"Keith doesn't know, but I saw you when I looked out of the dorm window. You're lucky I was the one who got there first because I was able to divert him towards the dining hall by telling him I'd seen her running that way."
I stayed silent.
"Look, I don't know what she told you," he started.
"She didn't tell me anything," I said quickly.
He took a deep breath.
"Keith keeps girls in the dormitory. Some of them are students from the class he was teaching when the military came in and tore the place apart. He managed to get some of them to the dormitory, and once he'd realized the laws didn't apply to us anymore, he let his inner desires consume him. He keeps those girls there for pleasure. He has sex with them," he admitted.
"You mean he rapes them? Because it didn't seem like they had much choice," I said sternly.
"If I say something to him, it could ruin any chance I have at a cure like you. We have the same stakes in this, Sammi," he said as his green eyes looked right through me.
"So, you what, you feed them for him?"
"Essentially yes. I feed them, let them bathe and talk amongst each other but only when he or I are around to supervise them because as you've come to realize, they could call out for help or escape."
"So how did that one girl get out," I asked.
"I still haven't figured that out," he admitted.
"She's dead," I said with an empty tone.
"I know."
"I wasn't trying to find the skeleton's in his closet. I stumbled upon them when I came looking for you. I was just ready to get the D and C procedure over with," I said emotionlessly.
"I don't know if I should tell you this, but Sophie came to me privately after everything in the lab. She asked me a question about the process and the options we had," he began as I gave him a confused look.
I had no idea Sophie had gone to him.
"What do you mean," I asked.
"She asked about the survival rate and other details about the donor baby. She asked me if it would be possible for her to be a surrogate," he said anxiously.
"A surrogate? She asked you that?"
"Yes. She told me she hadn't gotten the chance to talk with everyone about it, but I think she saw it as a way for you to keep this baby while still getting a donor baby to help with the cure."
I furrowed my brows in confusion as I actually considered this as a realistic option.
"Would that be an option," I asked.
"I don't see why not. I mean, ideally a surrogate would be someone who's already successfully delivered one baby, but she's healthy and young. It could be an option, if you wanted it to be," he said looking at me sympathetically as I gazed into his eyes.
     I was going to respond, but suddenly my leg began throbbing again, way worse than before. I winced in pain before grinding my teeth together and shutting my eyes hoping it'd shut out the pain, but it didn't. It definitely didn't.
"Fuck," I groaned.
"What is it, Sammi," he asked concerned.
I pulled back the blanket covering my leg to reveal the purple, swollen, and broken bone I had hidden beneath a homemade wrap.
"When I jumped out of the window I landed on my leg, and it snapped. It hurts so bad," I whined as he brushed the hair from my face and examined the leg.
"Let me take you to the clinic on campus. It has casts and bandages, pain killers, and an x-ray machine."
"Do you think Keith will suspect anything when he sees my leg?"
"I don't think so. We just need to make up a believable story like you fell down some stairs or something. We'll figure it out, I promise," he said sweetly.
     I think his level of concern and his touch just hypnotized me. It seemed like he could cast a spell, tell me to do anything and I'd do it. I didn't know why I felt so brainwashed by him, but I did.
     Looking back, I think I wanted to go with him because we'd be alone. Maybe I wanted something to happen, maybe I wanted to fill a void, ruin my life a little bit more. So when he mentioned the clinic, I took him up on his offer, curious to see how it would go.
     Sophie, Jackson, and Caleb hung back with Grace while I went with Gage to the clinic. I ensured my brother and Jackson that I would be okay, not to worry because we could trust him. I think they were still skeptical, but they complied because I was insistent and convincing when trying to tell them I could take care of myself.
     When we arrived to the clinic, I can't deny that I'd been feeling this persistent impulsive and reckless behavior becoming present in my head. I couldn't help but feel like for once someone understood me. There was someone going through everything I was. There was someone witnessing the cruel, deviant aftermath of the human species like I had been. He was seeing the dark desires of Keith being executed like I'd seen with Dillion and the freaks at the hospital. He didn't see the world like Jackson. He saw it for what it was—fucked up. That made me intrigued by him—attracted to him.
When we made our way inside, he helped me up onto the patient bench covered in the crinkling paper as I kept my legs dangling off the side, observing the bandage that Sophie had wrapped on me. When I looked back up, I saw Gage reading the names on a few stock bottles of medication. I watched him intently, even the details on each of his tattoos. I could see that he had good intentions despite all that Keith was doing in his free time.
I closed my eyes trying to relax, but the skinny jeans I'd been wearing made me feel claustrophobic and trapped. I think I was feeling anxious and constricted. I wanted to get out of them before I had a panic attack.
I rubbed my sweaty palms on my thighs catching the attention of Gage.
"You nervous," he asked as he poured a couple of pills into his hand.
"I just want to put something more comfortable on," I said picking at the skin around my fingernail.
"Oh, okay. Here, take these and let me see if I can find something. The bookstore is right next door. It has some t-shirts and sweatpants. I'll grab you a pair," he said as he dropped the pills into my hand with a cup of water before quickly stepping out of the door.
I threw the pills into my mouth and took a sip of water, tossing the cup into a trash can across the room. Gage was only gone a few short minutes as I looked around at each detail of the clinic examination room. I tried to forget about the pain in my leg hoping the pills he gave me would kick in soon.
He walked back through the door with a yellow collegiate tee and a pair of black sweatpants that had the school logo embroidered on the side. He sat them down on the end of the bench as I began unbuttoning the front button of my pants. He held out his hand for me as I carefully eased down onto the floor. He turned away as I stood facing the bench, using my hands to stay balanced, holding myself up. I kept my broken leg slightly lifted off the floor as I hobbled on my other. Gage could tell I was struggling.
"Do you need some help," he asked.
"Yeah, I think I do," I said helplessly.
He walked up behind me as I helped him pull the jeans down my legs. It seemed so effortless with him, and at some point, his body became pressed against mine. I felt his hands slide underneath my shirt and across my smooth skin. I could've stopped it from going any further, but I didn't have any desire to. I wanted it to happen as awful as it sounded. It felt great not giving a single fuck about the consequences of my actions.
     He wasn't Jackson. He would never be Jackson, let's get that perfectly clear. But right now, I had tunnel vision when seeing and deciphering between right and wrong. I had no comprehension whatsoever. Something was wrong with me. I was experiencing mania like I never had before. Was it from being unmedicated for such a long period of time or was the infection deteriorating my mind at an exponentially high rate? I didn't know. I just knew this felt wrong in all the right ways.
Suddenly I found my eyes rolled into the back of my head as his hands wandered to other parts of my body. He had this sensual, charismatic touch that went from my breasts down to between my legs. I bit my lip as he gently pushed me forward onto the bench in front of me. I'd forgotten all about my leg—maybe the medicine had finally kicked in or maybe it the euphoric high I was on with Gage now fucking me in the campus clinic. In the long hour we shared being reckless with each other, I'd forgotten about Jackson.
How could I have forgotten about Jackson? I mean this sincerely when I tell you that something was seriously wrong with me. I wasn't trying to make excuses for my behavior, but it was like the conscious decision making part of my brain was shut off completely.
After the sex with Gage, I got dressed in the tee and sweatpants quietly sitting back on the bench. I watched him as he finished casting my leg wishing he'd say something, anything. Instead, he remained silent as he pulled the pants leg over the cast.
"So can we agree that we will never do that again," I said finally, realizing what I'd just done to Jackson but not completely remorseful yet.
"You didn't like it," he asked leaning against the counter.
"No, I really liked it," I admitted painfully.
He grinned devilishly as I pursed my lips in embarrassment.
"I really liked it to, but it doesn't have to happen again, unless you want it to," he said slyly.
     I blushed shamefully as Sophie appeared in the doorway.
For some reason I felt like I'd been caught even though the cheating part of it was over. I got this guilty and anxious feeling now that she was here, but I was glad she was. Maybe that was my buffer for not repeating what happened earlier with Gage.
"Hey, did Gage get you fixed up," she asked.
"What," I asked worriedly.
"Your leg, did he get it taken care of," she asked giving me a suspicious look.
"Oh, yes he did. I'm good to go," I said as he handed me a pair of crutches from the corner of the room.
He didn't say anything as the two of us exited the clinic, he just held the door open while I made my way out.
     Once we got back to Sophie's room, she gave me this look that read something's up, and I had this consuming urge to tell her what happened to get it off of my chest and feel cleansed or some shit. I don't know what I thought it would do for me.
"I fucked Gage," I blurted out.
She gave me this empty stare and just nonchalantly said, "I know."
My eyes widened.
"How?"
"Well, for one I saw you when I came to check on you. The door has a window, and the two of you weren't exactly being discreet. What the hell were you thinking," she asked sternly.
"I don't think I was," I replied.
"You're manic right now aren't you?"
"Would that make it okay," I asked.
"Fuck Sammi, I don't know. I don't have the rule book for your manic bipolar zombie infected fucking brain," she said angrily.
     I wanted to react, I did, but my brain told me not to care. It told me not to take this situation seriously. I just gave her this surprised look waiting on her to say something else.
"That cannot happen again. You gotta promise me that. Because if you're going to continue to fuck around on Jackson I'm not just gonna stand back and watch you drive him into the ground. You know he doesn't deserve that."
I rubbed my face with my hands and groaned.
"You love Jackson right," she asked.
"You know I love Jackson," I said irritably.
"Then act like it. Act like you care if you lose him."
God, the stress of this situation was really making me need a fix of my ketamine mixture.
I stood up on my crutches to withdraw myself from the situation, and Sophie called out to me, "Where are you going?"
"To shoot up some drugs," I said openly.
"No you're not! You're pregnant," she yelled before standing up to come after me.
"Don't follow me," I said angrily.
"I'm not going to let you do drugs while you're carrying that baby, Sammi," she protested.
"I'm going to have to kill it anyways, why do you care so much?"
"Because I was willing to let you keep it! I was willing to be a surrogate so that you could keep the baby you have now!"
"Well I don't need your help!"
At that point Sophie and I were screaming at each other from across the room as I inched closer to the door. We continued our argument until Caleb intervened, bolting into the room.
"What the hell is going on in here," he asked.
"I was just leaving," I said in an annoyed tone.
"Sammi, stop," she said as she hurried after me.
She attempted to grab my shoulder and as I turned around to take a swing at her I lost my balance and fell to the floor.
"God damnit," I screamed as I hit my hip on the hard tile in the hallway.
Jackson was exiting the elevator and rushed over to me in a panic once he'd seen me.
"Are you okay?"
"Caleb I didn't mean to," Sophie began as he comforted her.
"I know. I know."
Jackson helped me up back onto the crutches as I cut my eyes at Sophie.
"She's manic," she announced to Jackson and my brother.
     I was so mad at everything. I was angry and fuming from feeling so overwhelmed and consumed by all that I'd done. My face was probably as red as a tomato from the anger I held towards myself and Sophie even though she had every right to say everything she'd said to me.
     In her revealing my current state to them, they tried to convince me to go back to my room and calm down. I didn't want to. I wanted to go anywhere far away from this place. Unfortunately, it was hard for me to go much of anywhere considering I was at the mercy of pain killers and crutches. I would be a prisoner to my mind and my bed yet again. And so I was for a couple of long weeks.