A Violent World: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Great Dying Book 3) by Paul Seiple

Author:Paul Seiple [Seiple, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dangerhouse Media
Published: 2019-07-13T22:00:00+00:00

Melanie gazed in the darkened room until her eyes began to deceive her. First, it was small white dots bouncing around the concrete walls. After what seemed like hours in the cell, the dots were cloudy eyes of the dead staring at Melanie. Her eyelids were heavy. She knew the stares weren't real, but she still refused to sleep. Whatever lurked beyond the door was much worse than the hallucinations of the dead stalking her.

Melanie sprang up as something pressed against the door. A stabbing ache pierced her back, just below her left shoulder blade. The two-inch piece of foam she lay on provided little support from the hard floor. Fear took hold as the knob turned.

"I'm warning you. Don't mess with me."

A male's laugher resonated underneath the door at Melanie's threat.

"Gonna shank me?"

The door opened. Light led the way, causing Melanie to squint. A dark shape cut through the brightness. Melanie curved her hand over her eyes to see. It was a man, about six feet tall. He was carrying something folded in his arms. Melanie pressed her back as tight as she could into a corner.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Abe."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you're being honest, Abe," Melanie said.

Abe laughed. "Wasn't expecting that. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"I'm tired of being trapped in the goddamn dark," Melanie said.

"I apologize for that. I would have been here sooner, but I couldn't find the iron. And then, the generator was out. It's just been one of those days," Abe said.

"Tell me about it," Melanie said.

Abe laughed again. "Here." He extended what looked to be a white gown to Melanie. "It's been requested that you wear this."

"What? I'm not wearing that. Who requested?"

"Maestro. He has something special planned for this evening and requested everyone be dressed in their best. Even the guests. And honestly, that flannel shirt has seen better days," Abe said.

"This shirt was perfectly fine this morning until your goons decided to drag me through the woods," Melanie said.

"Not my goons. I wasn't there. And I didn't order it. But if Maestro says you need to do something, you need to do it."

"I don't give a damn what this Maestro guy wants. I want to be at home eating pizza with pineapples on it right now. I don't have a pizza, and I don't have pineapples. And I'm not at home. We don't always get what we want," Melanie said.

Abe's tone shifted. "Look, if you don't wear this, he will take it out on me." Abe held the dress under his arm and lifted his shirt. There was just enough light to make out the six- to seven-inch welts across his chest. "These didn't feel good."

"Maestro did that to you?" Melanie asked.

"He ordered it."

"Why?"

"That's not important. But he's infatuated with you. If you do not wear this, it will be much worse for me."

Melanie sighed. "Give it to me."

Abe handed Melanie the dress and turned away from her.

"Is that all the privacy I get?" Melanie asked.

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