Live (NOLA Zombie Book 3) by Gillian Zane Page B

outnumbered, Miller. Can I call you Miller?” He looked up and I nodded.  

    “I’m just trying to get things right for my men. When I heard there was a group of ex-SOFs hiding out in the swamp out here, I just had to see for myself. Not to mention, they got that manufacturing warehouse out here which is stock full of vehicles and weaponry, thought we could use a bit of gear upgrade. We want to take back the Lakeview base. It’s tactically and strategically optimal and we can’t let a bunch of leather-clad fuck-wits get away with killing our Army brothers. We want to take them out ASAP.”  

    I couldn’t help it, I laughed. Long and loud. I had forgotten completely about Textron, the manufacturer he mentioned. Zach and I had even provided them with tactical support when they got in a few black list shipments. They had marine and land vehicles in the hundreds, equipped with the latest and best shit, not to mention the combat gear. Holy fuck . You could supply an Army with what Textron had in its warehouses.  

    “Did I say something funny, Captain?” The Major was looking at me sternly.  

    “You need help taking down Lakeview? You stumbled down the right path. If you want, we can leave now.”  

Twenty-Four | You Say Tomato
    ALEXIS
    I sidled up to the tub of water. It was cleaner than I expected, but that wasn’t saying much. The water was lukewarm and I felt like I was putting more stink on than I was washing away as I rubbed at the grit, but it would do. The women washing with me ranged in age from the very young teen to the middle aged. They all looked haggard. The woman that had helped me earlier shot a quick look at me and pushed a bit closer.  

    “Brandon Senior really claimed you as his property?” the woman whispered, handing me a bar of soap that was barely a sliver.  

    “Yes,” I whispered back. I didn’t know why we were whispering. There was no one around us but other women. Would they rat us out to the men?  
     
    “He does so much meth, he can’t ever get it up,” she whispered. “You’re lucky. He took it out on you though.” She reached out and touched my face lightly. I must be sporting one hell of a shiner judging from the pitying gaze she gave me.

    “I’m Melinda,” she said, taking the washcloth from me and running it across my cheek, a startling act of compassion in a very cold environment. She was a little older than me and from what I could tell, attractive, but bags under her eyes and a starved look to her cheeks and body made her look so much older. Her hair looked to be a reddish color and hung limply down her back. She had pale skin and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. She was thin, too thin, and only a few inches shorter than me, but most girls were.  

    “Alexis,” I said back.  

    “Senior doesn’t like to be talked back to or mocked. He doesn’t even take anything from his own men. Just stay quiet and let him get high and you’ll be fine. He keeps a woman in his bed every night, but from what I know from the other girls, he has never been able to get it up. If he’s marked you as property that means no one else can have you. He did you a favor.” She looked like she was telling me great news. What was worse? A good beating or being raped?

    “Has he claimed a lot of girls as property?” I asked, not knowing if I really wanted to know, but I asked anyway.

    “Two others before you. He goes for the prettiest and the youngest, but we age quickly here. He’s one of the guys the girls fight for, they’ll be jealous he nabbed you. They want Rebel and Mace too, just so you know…those are the ones that are nice.”

    “Are you…err someone’s property?” I asked feeling self-conscious.

    “No, but Rebel picks me a lot,” she whispered close to my ear. “He doesn’t want to have sex, he just lets me sleep. Some of the girls think he’s gay. Wash up, this’ll be your only chance. The water will go cold and dirty before long.”