Remedy

Chapter Five: Old Homes, New Homes, and Fifteen Skeletons in the Closet

~Chase~

When he woke up, the rain had finally stopped, along with the thunder and lightning. Chase pushed himself off the ground with his non-broken wrist. He pulled a costume off the rack and sat back on the ground. carefully, he ripped it in half, tieing the ends together in a sling. He slid his left arm into it and took in his surroundings. 

There were three racks of costumes in the back of the room. He shuffled through them, trying to find an outfit he could wear without looking like a princess. A door slammed open, he could hear the sound of people walking and talking.

"Capture survivors and kill the zombies, we have enough" a man barked, panic filled his chest, he started backing up as the footsteps got closer. Chains rattled. Chase fingers caught on a matal latch on the ground. A trapdoor. He opened it, he could see the faint outline of stairs, that's all. As quiet as he could, he climbed in and closed the top.

The scent of decay burned his nose and sent tears into his eyes. Shudders ran through his spine, he covered his nose and mouth with his hand. He couldn't see anything, a Vacant could be less than ten feet away. Something grabbed his foot, causing him to jump, he slammed his head on the trap door. Someone ripped the door open, shining light into the room, Chase scrambled up the stairs, no longer caring about the people, there were at least fifteen people crowded around the bottom of the stairs.

None were zombies . . . But all of the had a dull dead look to their beady eyes. Their clothes were all torn to shreads, none were wearing shoes, they cringed at the flashlights. A man yanked Chase off to the side, then the bullets started going off. No one fought, no one screamed, pushed or shoved. Confusion swept over Chase, he started backing up, he needed to escape.

"Where do you think you're going?" A girl tapped her shoe on the floor. "Finch, catch him and lock him up, he'll be questioned later." A tall man grabbed him and yanked him out of the closet, he handcuffed him to one of the old wooden benches.

The group of people was large, filled with at least forty people. There were men, women, children, elders and nine chained zombies in the back left corner. The man who grabbed him, Finch, was tall with a shaggy beard, a silver loop in his left eyebrow and a thick scar that cut across the left side of his face. The girl was short with choppy red hair and bright green eyes, she looked about a year or two older than Chase. 

Finch stood next to him, probably so he wouldn't try to escape. "Let me go," he glared at the girl. "I need to find my family and my friends," an image of Isaiah flickered in his mind. His heart fell, they were probably dead.

"Gag and blindfold him," the girl said flatly. Chase tugged at the cuffs. 

"Please, just let me go."

"I like it when you beg, you should do it more often." She flashed him a smile. He didn't have time to argue before a cloth was jammed in his mouth, Finch covered his eyes with another piece of cloth. All he could hear were gunshots. 

"Time to go," the same man shouted from earlier shouted, "Evangeline, grab the prisoner." Chase was pulled off the bench and shoved forward, he planted his feet n the ground. 

"Listen, do as they say, or they will kill you," Evangeline whispered. She was the girl from earlier. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her that the world was ending and his friends and family were most likely dead. What was the point of living? He had nothing. He felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his back. "Go." 

"Evangeline, if you can't handle him, Finch will, and he'll put him with the zombies," someone shouted. Another set of hands shoved him forward, the gun stayed there.