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I roam my hand over myself. My clothes are intact. My knife is…no, it’s not here. Neither is my spear. I could’ve dropped them when I passed out. I reach down to my boot and feel inside, but the one I hid there is also gone. So is the backpack I had. Panic surges through me and I paw at my chest, subsiding only when my fingers feel the circular shape of the compass I keep on me. I pull it out from beneath my shirt and I think I’m looking down at it, but it’s too dark to see. At least it’s still there. They didn’t take that, too.
Turning to face the direction of the murmured voices, I pound on the wall as hard as I can and scream. The voices cease and only the low hum of the engine can be heard. I scream and shout. “Let me out of here or I’ll kill you all!”
Okay, probably not the best way to smooth things over with my captors, but I’m angry and scared.
Fear runs through me as a chill settles over my skin. They could have killed me, even left me for dead among the rotters, but they went through the trouble of stripping me of my weapons and supplies and bringing me with them to wherever it is they’re going. That last part scares me more than being left behind and unconscious. I have better odds against the dead than I do against the living. This new world has brought about the worst in people. I’ve met many who I never want to cross paths with again. Whoever is on the other side of this wall I’m banging on has added themselves to that list.
“Let me out of here.” I shift myself around so I can kick. There’s usually a latch that folds the middle of the seat down to reveal the trunk to the rest of the car. Maybe if I can kick it hard enough from this side, it’ll come undone and free me. Then I can take out my captors. I don’t know how, with no weapons, but I’m sure as hell not going down without a fight.
There’s a chuckle followed by a low, soft timbre. “Careful, sleeping beauty. Don’t want you to hurt yourself. We’re not in an area that we’ll be able to stop and help you if so.”
The car speeds up, and we run over a big bump. And then another. There’s a chorus of moans. No, those aren’t bumps. They’re straight up running over rotters.
“Your screaming has gotten us a bit of an audience, so be a doll and stay quiet for a little while longer. We’re almost there.”
My heart hammers in my chest. Where is there, exactly? I give one last powerful kick before letting my head fall back in defeat. If they die, then I’ll never get out of this trunk. I’d much rather die fighting than to starve to death in a box.
Resigning, I flip my body over and crouch as much as the space allows me to, and wait. I refuse to die here. I’ll kill every single one of these people who took me, weapons or not. There are people counting on me to return with the supplies I promised I would get.
The car rumbles to a stop.
Doors open and close.
Leaves crunch beneath footsteps that are getting closer.
My heart pounds.
The world feels so still that for a moment I’m not sure if I’m still breathing.
Someone messes with something on the other side and then daylight nearly blinds me. It was the early morning hours last I remembered, so I’m not sure how many hours I’ve been out. Is it still the same day?
Not wasting any time, I leap from the trunk and sail through the air with all the grace of a drunk seagull before landing crouched in the dirt. I throw my leg out at the same time I spin around, kicking out and knocking someone to the ground beside me. Success.
When I get up to run, he wraps his hands around my ankle and I fall face first into the dirt, slamming my nose and chin onto the ground.
“You’re hurting her more than the rotters would have,” a gentle voice says before a man matching the voice crouches down in front of me. He has blond hair pulled back into a bun, exposing a kind face. His pale blue eyes study my face when he reaches out to touch my chin. I wince, and he sighs. “I apologize for my friend here. He’s doesn’t make the best first impression.” He glances off to the side, then back at me. “Neither of them do.”
I swat his hand away from my face and am dragged along the dirt before being flipped over onto my back. I suddenly regret changing from jean pants to jean shorts before leaving home. I thought it would make it easier to run around in, but the tiny sharp rocks in the dirt seem to have transformed into piranhas.
Hands plant themselves on either side of my head. The sun disappears when a large man hovers over me. The empty gray eyes that were the last thing I saw before waking up in the trunk of a car. The dark gray shirt stretching over a muscled torso belonging to the man who turned off my music. I hate him. I hate everything about him.
“Are you going to behave?”
“Depends on what you’re going to do with me. At least give me my weapons back before you try to kill me.”
His brows furrow. I want to cut off those brows. They’re stupid brows. “What are you talking about? We saved you.”
“Saved me?” I scoff. “You nearly got me killed, then you drag me out to the middle of nowhere, strip me of my weapons, and pin me down.”
His features harden, and the lines around his eyes deepen. “You nearly got us killed, pulling a stunt like that.”
“You’re delusional.”
“You’re reckless.”
“Can I play with her yet?” We both look to the side to see a third man crouching down, his elbows resting on his knees while he twirls a dagger with the pointy end in the dirt. His side-swept jet black hair looks like it hasn’t been combed since before the dead rose. It’s sticking up in random directions, but it’s the grin on his face that sends a shiver running through me. Until my gaze shoots back to the dagger.
“Hey, that’s my dagger.” I reach out for it, but he pulls it out of my reach.
