Becoming Them: A Zombie Novel

Twenty-One

     "Can you, uh, at least tell me where we're going?" I asked. I still had this gross bag over my head and couldn't see the guy, or see the way he would be looking at me right now. Probably thought I was ridiculous and just couldn't wait for what they had in store for me when we got to wherever they were taking me.

     The talking got the dust to frenzy together in my throat and made me go into a choking fit. Great, I was going to die by literally biting the dust.

     "You'll see," he replied.

     "That's all I'm getting?"

     "Yup." He popped the P.

     "C'mon. At least tell me if he's planning to kill me or something," I pleaded. "And could I have some water while you explain how this works?"

     I heard the cap of a bottle being twisted and I was marvelling at what was to come. Maybe this guy and his other friends weren't so bad. Maybe the ruthless, kill-hungry one was just Joey.

     "What would be close to death, if not actual death?" he asked.

     "You know, like, torturing me or making me perform labour. Stuff that would make me wish you'd kill me," I explained, licking my lips at the thought of water.

     I heard gulps and then a slow, relieved breath. "That was nice," he said.

     "Hey! Give me some."

     "I don't know. You did just try to kill me before."

     "No ... I just wanted some food."

     "You didn't think to ask first?"

     "Well, no, but that's just because of that dude, Joey. He wouldn't have let me for what happened to his house."

     "So you're the girl that trashed his place." He chuckled. "You still threatened to kill me. Really hurt my feelings so ... I don't know."

     "Is this some kind of joke to you? 'Cause I'm facing a real possibility of death here." 

     "So the water, is that the choice of your last meal?" 

     I wanted to scream. Taking a deep breath, I said, "Just ... please hand the water over before I die so I can get to whatever place your friends are taking me, hopefully, to die a much quicker death."

     He let out a laugh. "I thought you didn't want to die." I felt the plastic of the bottle at my fingertips. I ignored what he said. Instead, I hurriedly enveloped it with my tied hands, holding it steady, before tipping it against my mouth, letting the water rush inside it. It touched my tongue and I felt instant relief. The choked feeling was gone.

     Satisfied, I held the bottle out in front of me, waiting for him to take it. When he did, I resumed my hands' positions between my knees, keeping them warm.

     Soon, I felt the truck stop. Things went quiet.

     "Are we here?" I asked.

     "Yeah, think so," the guy replied.

     Chatter could be heard outside, from the other men as well as other people. I think I even heard a child squeal.

     "Uncle Scotty's back!" one child screamed.

     What kind of operation did they run around here?

     "Sounds like I'll have an audience to witness my death now," I said to myself.

     "Quit feeling sorry for yourself. We're going to get out of here soon." I felt hands on the bag on my head. The next second it was off completely. I didn't realise how much I missed light until I got it.