Keep Busy

41.

"Who's in goddamn charge here?" Roy bellowed from inside the modular holding cell. He was surrounded by the four remaining zombies from his group. Billy was still picking kid chunks out of his gaped teeth as Roy offered his dissent. "Why's she being treated like a princess while we're stuck in a cage? You guys have got this all backwards."

Jane was sitting at a folding table near the entrance to the tent looking rather smug and enjoying hearing the word, princess. Another soldier was asking her questions and using their field equipment to check her vitals—which... sure enough, she was still dead.

"This is all kinds of fucked," Roy said as the guard and milling soldiers in the tent visibly struggled to ignore his chatter. "She's a fucking demon sent from Hell. Don't say I didn't warn ya. Turn your back and BANG, she's chowing down on your jugular—chewing out your life right before your eyes. I'm proof," he wailed, pointing to the torn-out mess on his neck. No one paid him any attention, to which Roy smacked his thighs in defeat. "Fucking assholes," he grumbled.

Another soldier came into the Holding tent and took a second to let his eyes adjust to the weakened tungsten light. He scanned the room, saw Roy, narrowed his eyes and then turned to look at Jane.

"She all set?" he asked the soldier sitting at the folding table.

"All set."

"Miss, you're gonna need to come with me now," the standing soldier said sounding equally official and cryptic.

"Where are we going? To get me some clothes, I hope." Jane said, still donning the bikini and still enduring lecherous stares.

"You're going to see Doctor Ramirez. He'll be taking it from here."

"Taking what? What's with all the mystery?" Jane crossed her arms now that they'd removed her zip-tie restraint. "Wait, did you say Ramirez? The guy who drove us here? He's a doctor?"

The soldier looked at the man sitting at the table busy filling out paperwork, then back at Jane. "Yes," he said with a slight upward inflection.

"Convincing," she said.

The soldier grabbed Jane by the elbow and pulled her up. "Let's go," he said sternly.

"What's she need a doctor for? She's already dead!" Roy shouted.

The soldier turned to Roy, unholstered his sidearm and shot Roy in the shoulder. A spray of viscous blood and chunks of skin erupted through his shoulder-blade and splattered a couple of his cohorts sitting behind him on a bench.

Roy took a few steps back from the impact.

"Ugh," Billy groaned behind Roy. "Some of it got in my mouth. Yuck. Tastes like dryer lint," he said attempting to wipe the blood from his face.

"I've been wanting to do that since we first picked you guys up. That asshole just won't shut up," said the soldier.

The soldier re-holstered his weapon and pulled Jane out of the tent into the hyper-bright area lights. Everything took on a surreal, sharpened brilliance in the artificial radiance. Jane blinked and shook her head trying to adjust. It had been a long time since she'd seen electricity in action.

"Jesus," she said marveling at the clarity.

Back inside the tent, the other soldiers seemed unphased—as though discharging a weapon inside an official outpost was totally normal.

"What the fuck was that?" Roy squealed. "That's not... he can't do that." He curiously put a finger inside the hole near his sternum. "He shot me. How is that okay? You can't just randomly shoot a prisoner and then walk out like nothing happened. Where's the CO? I would like to register a complaint."

"There's no CO you fucking inbred zombie asshole! Just shut your fucking mouth or I'm going to staple it shut!" One of the soldiers standing near the entrance had had enough of Roy's constant haranguing. It was the same soldier who had checked them for weapons and injuries back at the Center, but his no-nonsense, determined look was now replaced by an irritated scowl. "I am done with your shit. You're a fucking zombie, the shot didn't hurt... and it certainly doesn't seem to have taught you anything. You're still yapping away like some fucking hyper-caffeinated Chihuahua. We'll get to you in due time but for now, shut your goddamn mouth and sit the fuck down!"

The room was quiet for a second. The sounds of the evening woods crept through the heavy canvas edges of the tent. The dull footfalls of soldiers outside, crunched on the gravel pathways.

"What do you mean there's no commanding officer?" Roy asked quietly.

The soldier smacked his forehead. "Alright, where's the stapler?"