In Death's Grip

In Death's Grip: Chapter 5

Chapter 5- Zach

It's so cold. It's so very cold. They took everything from me. He took everything from me. Nikolai. The Russian. He has my body armor. He took my weapons. My hatchet, wrist blade, and handgun. Demitri, Nikolai's personal lap dog, beat me half to death. That man hits hard. My clothes are torn to shreds and are soaked in my own blood.

I'll kill that man. I don't know how I'm going to do it but I will. I just have to wait for the right moment. I'm not sure when that will be though. It's hard to earn my vengeance with my hands chained to the wall above me. I'm basically hanging by my wrists and the pain is almost insufferable. My feet dangle below the rest of my body but don't reach the cold stone floor. I can barely see anything with only a small candle for light in my prison.

The door at the end of the corridor opens and two men I don't recognize come into the dimly lit room. Both of them go to work unfastening my chains.

"What are you doing?" I ask them. Are they here to rescue me? I get no response. The two men just carry out their task and get me down from the wall. They both grab one of my arms and beginning forcing me down the hallway.

"Where are you taking me?" I demand. Still, neither one of them says a word. They keep stern looks on their faces and stare forward. They don't even acknowledge my presence except for when they shove me onward.

We exit the building and come out into a construction site. I notice that the place I had just come from wasn't a building at all. It's a giant crate. Nikolai must have laced the inside of it with concrete to confuse the prisoners and make them believe they were somewhere else. It's a clever little trick.

I'm lead through the compound to the center where the courthouse stands. This is the same place where I failed to rid myself of my greatest enemy. All because I hesitated. Now look what that hesitation has brought me, pain and suffering. I can infer that my torture isn't over yet.

The two men shove me through the front door and into the main office on the second floor. Nikolai is standing in the exact same spot he was when I tried to kill him. It's as if him standing there is his way of mocking me for my cowardice and fear.

"Clyde. Howard. That will be all," Nikolai tells the duo. They exit the way the came in. I'm left in the room with the Russian, alone. I wonder what fresh hell he's about to put me through? I don't want to even think about the horrible things he has planned for me.

"Sit boy," he commands when we're left alone. I remain standing. He's not gonna tell me what to do. I'd rather die than obey this monster standing in front of me.

"Fine, stand. I don't really give a damn."

I speak, my throat very sore, "Your accent is hardly noticable. How long have you been in this country?" My curiosity is getting the better of me.

"Long enough to know that getting to know your enemy exposes weaknesses. Nice try kid but I was a marine for a long time and I know all the tricks to beating a nemesis," Nikolai replies sharply.

"Fine then. Well lets not best around the bush. What new torture have you concocted today? You already killed my mother and burned my home. There's not much left you can take from me."

"On the contrary," Nikolai retorts, "It's true that I did kill your mother Barbara Anderson but I what you might not know is that I allowed her to come back. To life I mean."

I can't see my reflection but I know that a look of confusion and shock has swept across my face. What does he mean? I fear the worst. My mother is supposed to be dead. She should be resting in peace right now.

"Confused? I assumed you were smarter than that young Zachary. Yes, your mother is biter. That is your torture today. I'm going to put you in room with a two way mirror in it. Your mother, or what's left of the woman, will be put in the room as well. You can either survive or you can allow yourself to die. Your choice boy."

Nikolai nods and I'm grabbed from behind by an unknown enemy. I look back to see that it's Demitri, Nikolai's old friend and luietenant. He leads me into a small and secure room off to the side of Nikolai's main office. The room is no bigger than a 5 foot by 5 foot space. Not much room to move around. The walls are painted white and a bright light is blindingly shining down. There is nothing in the room but dirt and dust.

The door is slammed shut behind me. I'm left alone for a moment. After about a minute the door is opened again and Demitri is holding a walker by the neck with a chain. It's my mother. My poor, poor mother. She did so much for me and now this is how she's repayed.

She's not my mother anymore though. My mother is dead and this monster is parading around in her body. Skin is peeling off in an assortment of places all over the shuffling corpse.

Demitri says, "Have fun," in a mocking manner and shoves the lurker into the room. I have nothing to defend myself with but my fists. My undead mother lunges at me teeth first.

I grab her rotting and deteriorating arms and attempt to hold the creature back. All of my mom's facial features are unfortunately still intact. Her eyes, the crease around her mouth, even her hair is still the same. This is the woman who raised me for so many years and I have to kill her.

She groans and moans in my face. Her teeth are so close to my nose I can smell her foul breath. I can't do this. I'm going to die because I'm weak. I'm going to die and Nikolai will see a coward. I can't kill my own mother.

She's not my mom though! My mother was kind. She was sweet and friendly. She was always willing to help and she was there for those who needed her. My mother was a good person and an even better mom. This is thing is not the amazing woman I once knew.

I kick the biters legs and make it fall to the ground. I stand over her, no, it with conflicting emotions running through my mind. I have to survive. I have to live. My mother would have wanted me to do this.

"You're not my mom!" I scream at the undead woman. I bring my foot down into its face. It's still alive. I repeat the action. Over and over I do this all while shouting the same sentence. "You're not my mom!"

I killed the walker ten times over. I'm angry. More than I thought I ever could be. I look at the mirror in front of me. He is watching. I know he is.

"Are you happy now?" I ask sternly.