The Virus Series | Novella | Origins by Lee Damien

Author:Lee, Damien [Lee, Damien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2021-09-23T04:00:00+00:00

***

“I tell you what, these rations are shite,” Gus murmured, spraying bits of food at Stephen from the other side of the pool table. He adjusted his position on the bar stool, looking between the two men opposite him. “It’s bland as fuck. What do you think, Zielinski?”

“Beats the prison food,” the Polish man shrugged, shovelling a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

“Lurch, are you gonna speak or are you still sulking?”

Stephen looked up, glaring at Gus Razor across the table. It had been a couple of hours since he checked the upper floor of the military base. Having found a mounted machine gun, a crate of ammunition and a combat knife, he had begrudgingly returned to report his findings. Whilst it pained him to do it, he chose minimal words to avoid further confrontation with the ridiculous man.

“Like I said earlier, we don’t do finders keepers here,” Gus continued, producing the combat knife he had snatched from Stephen earlier. “You’ve already got one. And Gus Razor can’t be without a blade. Would you deprive a rock star of his guitar?”

“I don’t give a shit about the knife, Gus.” He clenched his fist, his breath hissing through clenched teeth.

“Well crack a smile for fuck’s sake, you look like a suicidal mime.” Razor stabbed the blade into the felt surface of the table before turning back to his meal.

Stephen ignored the comment and looked over at the bound soldier in the doorway. After tying him to one of the office chairs, Gus had insisted he be brought into the bar area to watch them eating the rations. Now, his venomous gaze swept back and forth over the trio.

“Is he still giving us evils?” Gus asked, his eyes fixed on Stephen’s. Zielinski turned on his stool, examining the gagged soldier’s face.

“Yep.”

Gus pried the knife out of the table and turned to face their captive. “So what’s it gonna be, bobblehead?”

The soldier shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Do we need to blindfold you as well? Or should I just cut out your eyes and be done with it?”

A muffled cry came from the gagged man. He rocked in the chair, straining against the tight tie wraps.

“Zielinski, take his gag off,” Razor murmured as he opened his fifth bottle of beer. Stephen looked on as the Polish man pried the rag from the soldier’s mouth.

“Please!” he yelled. “Let me go. We’ve got off on the wrong foot. We can help each other.”

Gus sneered, wiping his mouth as he put the bottle down. “And how can you help me?”

“I know this place. I can help defend it.”

“We’ve been here for a few hours now; we know how to defend it.”

“I’m an expert marksman, the best you’ll ever meet.”

Gus grinned as he retrieved the handgun from the table. Stephen looked on as the man took aim at the dartboard on the far side of the wall. Without a moment of hesitation, he fired, striking the bullseye dead centre.

“Wanna bet?” Gus scoffed, eyeing the man with a smug expression.

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