Chapter 17

(Psychotic or Creative?)

Desi’s Point of View

Ka-thunk!

Jungkook and I broke apart just in time to stare at the giant metal door as it swung open with an ominous whoosh. The rusted hinges screamed in protest as it fell open, narrowly missing Jungkook and I. The hallway beyond it was dark, but I could see something moving inside. Bodies? I clung to Jungkook’s shirt, and my breathing hitched.

For a moment, it was as if the world stopped. The zombies paused mid-attack, their mouths gaping and their hands outstretched. We all froze in place as we whipped around to stare at the door in a mixture of shock and relief. The door itself creaked to a stop and gaped open.

The moment didn’t last long.

“Get on the ground now!” A commanding voice bellowed from inside the entrance. A shadow began to take shape in the dark hallway, and my breath caught in my throat. It took a moment for the command to sink in, but once it did, all of us moved as one. The seven of us dropped to the ground in a heartbeat. I covered my head with my arms, and squeezed my eyes shut. A split second later, gunfire exploded overhead. The sound ripped through the air, and muffling the sound of empty shells clattering to the ground like rainfall. Bullet after bullet tore into the wall of zombies, knocking them back and ripping them to shreds.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang!

The sound of the machine guns was deafening. I could barely hear myself think. Bullets rained down around us, and I could feel a few bounce off my shoulders. The only thing that kept me tethered to reality was Jungkook’s hand clutching mine and his side pressed against me.

After a few more seconds, I gathered my courage and lifted my head to see what was happening. To my left, the zombie pack that had closed in on us earlier was now practically decimated. Only about half of them remained, and what was left was quickly being mowed down by the spray of gunfire. To my right, a wall of soldiers was positioned around the safe house door. Each soldier was equipped with a machine gun, and firing rapidly at the zombies. They all looked the same from here-- dark uniforms, helmets, boots, and gloves. Nothing about them stood out, and the lack of individuality scared me a little.

I glanced to my left again. The seven us were sprawled out, hands over our heads and bodies curled into fetal positions. Jungkook and I were the closest to the door, with the other girl and who I thought was Jimin tucked in close next to her, just a few feet away from me. Hoseok had been unlucky, and was closest to the zombies when we hit the ground. Unfortunately for him, that meant he was closest to the splatters of blood as each zombie dropped. His whole torso was covered in nasty, thick zombie blood, painting him a disgusting,oily black. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he would not be pleased if we got out of this.

While I was temporarily distracted, a strong hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder roughly. I looked up, startled, and was met with cold, flinty eyes belonging to one of the soldiers as he leaned down to stare at me. His mask was pulled away from his face, revealing that he was, in fact, human. His mouth formed words, but I couldn't hear anything above the roar of my heartbeat and the rapid-fire gunshots echoing through the street. He shook my shoulder again and I gaped up at him, too shocked and tired to move. Before I could really process what was happening, he looped his arm around my waist, and and yanked me off the ground. I was too surprised to even yell. Jungkook’s hand slipped out of my grip, and he snapped his head up with a look of horror. He yelled my name and lunged for me, but the soldier dragged me through the door before he could reach me.

And I let him. I was too exhausted at this point to put up a fight. My whole body ached, and my limbs felt like they were made of lead. I just had to hope they meant it when they called this place a safe house. Because it certainly didn't feel safe so far.

I craned my neck to look behind me at the carnage outside. Several soldiers had broken ranks and were hauling the others up from the ground while the rest covered them. All seven of us were dragged into the the facility, away from the zombies and the open door. The gray-haired boy was fighting the soldier's grip, his face twisted in annoyance as he snarled obscenities. I was tempted to do the same, but I couldn't. It was hard enough to stay on my feet without fighting, thank you very much. No matter how badly this place gave me the creeps, it was a hell of a lot better than being surrounded by a horde of zombies.

Once the last of the survivors were brought in, the wall of soldiers called out an order, and they retreated. They filed in through the door, their boots squeaking against the tile. The last soldier ducked through the doorway, and pulled the door shut behind him. It closed with a boom, and the soldier threw the deadbolts, locking us in, and the zombies out.

ing finally.

We were finally safe. Safe from those damn zombies and near death experiences. We’d traveled so far, and worked so hard to get here that it almost didn't feel real. We made it. We really made it. And we were safe. At least for now, anyway. As I looked up at the soldier who had an excruciatingly tight grip on my arm, a sense of uneasiness pooled in my stomach. Please let my intuition be wrong.

The soldiers led us farther into the safe house. Led being a relative term. Really, we were being herded, escorted, more like prisoners than guests. We passed empty bunkers with doors propped open that reeked of bleach. We passed over-glorified utility closets filled with weapons, and training rooms with soldiers sparring. Beyond those, we were met with white hallway upon white hallway. It was like a freaking labyrinth. They all looked exactly the same, with nothing to tell one apart from the other. Each hallway had a few rooms branching off of them. They were all numbered, and it made the place feel more like a hospital than a refuge. I tried to drag my feet so I could get a peek at a couple of them, out of pure curiosity. I never managed to get more than a glimpse before my arm was jerked by the soldier to keep me moving along. All I could see was either a plain room with bunk beds, or a creepy- lab littered with various medical equipment and large machines that looked like something out of a horror movie. One room stood out from the rest, though. It didn't have bunk beds, and the medical equipment was almost nonexistent. What it did have, was a couple rows of what looked like cradles. A nursery, maybe? But why would that be here? What the hell?

I didn't get much time to think about it, because the rude- soldier yanked on my arm again and drug me further down the hallway. This place really wasn't giving off the ‘home sweet home’ vibe. I looked up at the guy holding my arm, and glared. He glanced at me and glared back, then looked stoically ahead of us, ignoring me. Honestly, this silent treatment was getting annoying. I tried to yank my arm out of his grip, but he held fast.

“Okay,” I snapped. “Listen here, big guy. I don’t know how things work here, but we want answers. We didn’t travel across the whole damn country just for you to drag us through this godforsaken rat maze, and not tell us a thing. I mean, like thanks for opening the door and all, but where are we going? Who are we meeting? What will happen to us? Where are Jin and Namjoon? What food do they serve here? Do I get a be---”

“Shut up,” the man snarled, rudely interrupting my tirade. He glared over at me, but didn't break stride for a second. “You’ll get your answers, but you're getting them on our terms. Don't think for a second that we can't throw you back out to feed the horde.”

My face twisted with anger, and I opened my mouth to yell at him, or possibly bite him. I hadn't decided yet. Before I could get a word in, he continued. “And from here on out, you will address me as sir, or Sergeant Aaron. I will not tolerate such disrespect as name calling and petty jabs from you.” He sneered, showing off a row of pearly white teeth that I was aching to slam my fist into and break into a thousand tiny pieces. His tone didn't sit well with me. His evasiveness and hostility only added to my unease. We couldn't trust these people. That much was obvious.

“You know what? You smell like hidden motives. Get away from me.” I tried to yank my arm away again, but Sergeant Asshat tightened his grip, and pulled me closer to his side.

The soldier looked down at me and smirked. His eyes traveled from my face down to my toes slowly, taking their time, and I felt a deep, disgusted chill seep into my bones. It was a creepy smirk, and a violating look. Like he was trying to be intimidating and seductive at the same time. I heard Jungkook growl from behind us. Aaron looked over his shoulder at Jungkook. His smile grew wider, and his eyebrows rose in curiosity at Jungkook’s furious glare. The soldier looked back at me, still grinning.

“Watch yourself, little girl. You’re swimming in the deep end now.”

I shuddered at his tone. My skin was crawling at his touch, and under his intense scrutiny. I had to fight the urge to cover myself, even though I was fully clothed. What was this guy, like 35? I was only 18! His voice and the look he was giving me made we want to bathe in bleach, they were so disgusting. Behind us, I could still feel the heat of Jungkook’s murderous glare aimed at the soldier’s back. My mouth settled into a scowl.

“Okay, that’s it. Get your hands off me or I will rip off your arm and beat you to death with it,” I growled. Taehyung snickered from somewhere in line behind me. The soldier’s face twisted in distaste.

“You’re psychotic.”

“I prefer the term creative,” I retorted. He looked down at me with a glare, and I met it with one of my own. I was not backing down. If he didn't let go, I planned to carry out my threat in full.  

Eventually, he dropped his arm.

“Fine. Follow me, and don’t run off. There will be consequences for disobedience.” With that, Sergeant Asshat picked up his pace, and left me to walk on my own as he led us down another series of hallways. It didn't take long after that for Jungkook to break away from his guard and jog up to me. He laced our fingers together and pulled me close, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. His mouth found its way to my ear.

“I swear to God I am going to bury that guy alive and dance on his grave if he so much as looks at you again,” he growls. I let out a quiet laugh. I certainly wouldn't stop him. In fact, I'd probably join him. But I still appreciated his protectiveness. Jungkook’s face softened after I laughed, and he squeezed my hand again. He stared at me for a moment, and his lips curled up into a mischievous, smug smirk. He leaned back in to whisper to me again.

“Also, are we just going to ignore the fact that you just kissed me like 5 minutes ago?”

My face reddened instantly at his words, and I fought the urge to facepalm. Dammit! I totally forgot that I kissed him! What was I thinking? I couldn't believe I was the first one to cave. Argh! I was so sure he was going to be the one to break. I tried so damn hard too, but the little bastard had gotten to me. It wasn't even my fault, really. It was a heat of the moment type of thing. I thought we were going to die! Does that even count?

I groaned, and Jungkook’s grin widened. Apparently, Jungkook thought it counted.

“Please don’t remind me,” I said, covering my face with my free hand. “I totally thought that you were going to be the one to give up first!”

“Oh please. We all knew I was going to win eventually.” He snickered, his voice laced with arrogance. I rolled my eyes at him. Before I could retort, he kissed my cheek and darted away, leaving me speechless. He tugged on my hand and stepped up his pace, dragging me down the hallway while I spluttered for a response.

A few minutes later, the seven us us were led into a large white room. It was set up like a conference room, in a way, with a long glass that he hallway able taking up the majority of the space. White plastic chairs were pushed in around the table, and the whole room reeked of glass cleaner and women's perfume.

At the end of the table sat a middle aged woman with silver-streaked hair, wearing heavy makeup and a pressed white pantsuit. Two burly guards stood at attention on either side of her. Their hands rested casually on the machine guns held across their chests, but the warning was obvious. One wrong move, and they wouldn'