Guilt (A Zero Spin-Off)

One - Ella

"You've got to be shittin' me." As if the words weren't harsh enough on their own, the bite behind them was enough to have me convinced. This man hated me. He didn't so much as know my name, but his mind was made up. I could only imagine what he'd say when someone told him who I was. I wanted to flinch away. Actually, I wanted to cry a little. I'd experienced my fair share of hate and dirty looks in the last year, but not from someone who I'd never seen before - who'd never seen me and obviously didn't know me. He was so cute too. No, cute isn't the right word, he was freaking hot.

Yes, I knew it wasn't really the right time to be noticing things like how attractive this jerk was, but it sort of slapped me in the face. Somehow, the blow of having him hate me was only harder because he was good looking. Call me childish, but was it really so awful to wish he was missing teeth and had a giant nose and a bad case of adult acne? Probably. But it would have made his anger at my very existence easier to take.

I stayed sitting in my chair, too nervous that if I spoke up I'd end up in tears. He looked like the kind of person who'd make me cry. So, I sat there while the giant jerk with admittedly great hair - great hair that I wanted to shave off his head while he slept - talked about me as if I weren't there. It only made matters worse that my boss and the two other men in the room - both of whom looked equally skeptical of me - were there to witness the whole thing.

"She's going to get someone killed," he said and for added effect, slammed his hands onto the desk. Dr. Bethany Summers flinched back, shocked by his aggressive nature. She, like me, had spent most of her life in labs -something that had earned her the spot of top research scientist at Hudson Military Installation. Not that there had been a great many people lined up for the job. Even if there were though, after spending the better part of a year working as her assistant, I couldn't have imagined anyone more intelligent. It wasn't Dr. Summers' fault we weren't making progress. She was nothing short of genius. We just needed something... more. Which is why we'd hunted down and called in the best running team on the base.

And that hadn't been easy.

I wasn't entirely sure what runners did with their time, but I knew that group did a lot of it. We waited weeks for these three men to get back to the base so that we could try to convince them that our idea was worth the risk. And it was a risk, even for them.

"If we're lucky it'll just be herself and not any of us."

Wow. I blinked.We hadn't expected this to be easy. The units were exclusive, kind of like the mean girls in high school who only let you in their group if you were the prettiest and had lots of money. Except, instead of being pretty, slutty and having money, you only got into this club if you were a gun-toting, knife-wielding, zombie-killing badass. I wasn't any of those things. Hell, I didn't even drink until after my twenty-first birthday and about the most bad ass thing I'd ever done was... well, I did kind of, sort of start the zombie apocalypse. In some circles that might be considered a little bad ass. But not in a good way. The point is, I was pretty lame and he was right, there was a good chance I wouldn't survive outside of these protected walls. That's why I wasn't going to go alone. It's why I needed him and the two men flanking either side.

But, just because I needed these guys didn't mean I was going to sit there while one of them said we'd be lucky if I got myself killed. Didn't his mother teach him that you have nothing nice to say, to just shut the hell up? I stood up, taking a deep breath and willed myself to seem more confident than I was. I would not earn respect by crying in front of these men.

"Did you forget that I'm in the room, or just not care?" I asked, proud of my surprisingly steady voice. Inwardly, I smiled, feeling all, I am woman, hear me roar. Based on the look that the jerk gave me, he didn't care one bit about my inner pride. From his expression, I should have kept my shut, but I'd reached my limit. That line was drawn firmly at some arrogant caveman suggesting it would be good luck if I died.