Killing The Dead (Book 19): The Book of Ryan by Murray Richard

Author:Murray, Richard [Murray, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2019-11-08T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Days became weeks, which became months and through it all, I seethed at how impotent I had become. My entire world had shrunk down to the one level far below the surface with no one but Gregg and Abigail for company.

It was beyond infuriating. I could practically feel time passing me by as the world moved on without me. My days became one of routine, filled with passive-aggressive actions that my captors likely cared nothing about anyway.

Punishment came often and I spent more time in cold, darkness than in warm light. At some point, as the months moved on, an instruction was given and both Abigail and Gregg moved out of my quarters.

My captors had decided that it was unfair to punish them for the things that I did, so they were free to wander the level as they pleased as I spent my days and nights in my quarters. A bedroom, bathroom and living room were all that I was to know.

With the loss of power to the rooms, came a loss of access to the entertainment media that they had deigned to allow us to have. So, silence became the norm for me, and I spent my time exercising until exhausted and then sleeping, only to wake and do much the same again.

At the end of each punishment cycle, I would go out and gather foodstuffs from the canteen before placing them in my quarters. If I were trapped, I would at least not starve.

The voice would come over the speaker, following me as I prowled those empty corridors, eager for something to kill. A new list of commandments that I was not to even consider breaking and with a smile, resembling a snarl, for the cameras, I would do exactly what they insisted I not do.

Usually, it would be interfering with a camera or approaching their oh so precious elevator doors. Occasionally, I would take out my unending fury on one of the offices and once the destruction had calmed me just a little, I would be sent back to my rooms for another week of silence.

Their threats of cutting off the oxygen were generally enough to force me to their bidding, but I ensured that they were aware of how very much it annoyed me to do so. Not that they seemed to care, but it pleased me to do so anyway.

Almost a year to the day, after the nuke had fallen from the sky, my door unlocked with a click and I sat, naked and drenched in sweat, in the centre of my room as I blinked watery eyes at the bright light that suddenly filled my world.

A shiver ran through me and I rose to my feet, body aching from the strenuous exercises I had been putting myself through, and I reached for a towel I had left nearby. It stank, which was understandable since it hadn’t been washed in the two weeks I had been imprisoned.

I stared directly at the camera and

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