Three weeks after punching Tara in the face, three weeks since her last curling iron session, three weeks since she’d had a hot shower. Could that really be true? Three weeks?

Marni scrubbed her fingers over her face hiding a yawn as she trudged on. Following some small highways was the easiest way to maintain her route westward, and for the most part she had spent the time alone. Which, when considering the alternative, was welcome. 

Bringing her fingers away she saw how grimy they were and felt alarm and disgust with herself. Even when on tour she had never gotten this unappealing. What would she give for a bath…Or a brush…or a Neutrogena face cleanser mask with cucumber under eye circle concealer… Maybe some Crest 3D whitening strips?

Day dreaming kept Marni going for some time before coming to a small town. One of those towns with two stop lights. She hovered on the edge of the town for some time watching, waiting. She didn’t see much movement… Marni wasn’t so sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. At this point it was a mixed bag. Did that mean most of the people were well and held up in their homes? Or sick and out wandering the planes? 

Were the few straggling around survivors or victims? 

Reaching to her pack she grabbed her beretta and pulled it out of the side pocket, shoving it into her coat pocket carefully before making her way towards the houses on the outskirts of the ‘town.’ Even if they didn’t have an oil free facial scrub, perhaps some of the abandoned ones had bottled water. 

Marni had a water purification kit in her pack, but she liked to save supplies wherever possible. If she could drink someone else’s water she’d be twice as happy. Edging along, standing stone still whenever she heard a twig break or the wind bustle through the leafs of a tree, Marni took a good 20 minutes to cross a distance that should have taken her 5. 

Again, when she was finally at the back porch she stood and listened. There was no sound coming from the house. It looked vacant…The window blinds pulled down…no cars nearby…no pets wandering around. 

This was as good a bet as any. Stepping up the porch Marni pulled the screen door open and moved towards the back door. She reached for the handle and nearly jumped out of her skin when the door was opened from the inside. 

Considering the difficulties she had seen with the various infected beforehand she doubted they could handle a knob. Still she was clutching her chest and panting as an older man stood there staring at her. 

“What are you doing?” He snapped. Marni backed up quickly. The man didn’t look sick but maybe he was just in the early stages. Then again he probably thought that of her. “Looking for clean drinking water…” She replied lamely, scuttling to the very back step of the porch, ready to flee. 

“hmmph…” He grumbled. He had a gold cross hanging from a chain around his neck. It appeared the old man was feeling some confliction on whether he should help her or not…Marni could relate…Not really. The gold did not match is pallor at all. Hadn’t anyone ever told him he was a winter, not a summer?

“Well come on in then.” He muttered, holding the door open and flapping Marni inside. She hesitated and he snapped “Well do you want the water or not?!” “Yes Sir!” She replied, automatically responding  to that commanding tone. 

The old man seemed surprised by her sudden formality and chuckled even, a rusty old sound . She slipped past the old man and looked about his dim house as he locked the door behind her. Beretta still in her pocket Marni didn’t feel all that worried. 

“So where are you abouts?” He wanted to know, waddling over to a cabinet and producing a small bottled water. “Virginia…” He nodded. “Do you know what’s going on out there?” Marni asked, suddenly wondering if this lunatic just thought the power was out…

“I’m not stupid girl. Course I know. Whole world has gone mad that’s what…” 

She couldn’t really argue with that and instead peeled the cap off her water bottle and took a sip. Fresh water… Marni was sore tempted to poor some on her face but was sure the old man would lose his beans if she did. She settled for dabbing some on her palms and wiping her face…Which probably just spread the grime around even more.  Oh well. Perhaps if she moved it around correctly it would look like  bronzer on her cheeks? 

A low moan fluttering  from the back of the house made Marni pause in her process of making her dirt shading more appealing. 

Her head whipped around nervously and Marni’s hand reached for her beretta instinctively. “What was that?” she asked uncomfortably. The old man sighed. “The old lady isn’t well—Hey!.” 

Marni was jumping to her feet, almost knocking over her opened water bottle. “You have her in the house!? Don’t you know what will happen? What she’ll turn into?” The man was mad! Simply Mad!

“I didn’t let you into my house to have you criticize me little missy…I have it in hand, just settle down.” 

“In hand?” How could he possibly have it in hand? Marni’s green eyes bugged out of her ‘bronzed face’. 

The old man looked smug. “Yes. In hand. Martha and I have been married for 43 years and I’m not about to let some illness stop that. So I’ve got her under control until they find a cure.” Exactly who he thought would be finding this cure was beyond Marni. They were all gone. There was no They. It was just Us and We and Me. 

Marni shook her head but listened intently. The moaning had stopped but there were no other sounds coming from the backroom. 

How had he gotten his wife contained? Tara hadn’t been that strong of a woman and yet she broke down that office door eventually. Something about whatever it was that changed them seemed to make them stronger…Or something. 

“Controlled?” Marni asked again, settling uneasily back into her chair and picking up her water bottle. Might as well hydrate while she could. “Yes.” The old man replied shortly. 

They sat in silence for probably a good 20 minutes before Marni caved, her curiosity getting the best of her.  “how?” 

The old man grumbled but stood up (with some effort) and waved her along. It was a bizarre sight. The old woman was obviously inflicted, pulling at her own skin, moaning, yanking at her chains. And that’s what was keeping her firmly in ‘control.’ Chains and chains. Around her arms and wrists and ankles and neck and torso, anchored to eyebolts in the floor . She looked like some wild animal chained up for the amusement of humans. 

An odd part of Marni felt pity for the woman and she turned away quickly. And he was doing this to his wife? Then again…his wife would eat him up were she free. And surely those eyebolts wouldn’t hold for very long?

“How long have you had her like this?” Marni wanted to know, the husband was still watching his wife. “A week.” He muttered, reaching to close the door to the bedroom so Martha was no longer visible. 

A week. Surely she would escape soon. Rip this man’s guts out… 

“Can I crash here?” She wanted to know, indicating the couch. The old man muttered and came back with a pillow and a blanket. Marni smiled her charming cashiers smile and settled down on the sofa. 

For three days she mooched off the old man and kept an eye on his old lady. For three days he fed her and gave her shelter and watered her. And for those days Marni kept an eye on the woman, watching her progress from agitated to impatient to ruthlessly fighting against her confines, lusting for their flesh. The woman would break free. Marni knew it. 

So on the fourth day she shot the woman in the head, wasting a precious bullet for the grumpy old man in the hopes that he might make it. She didn’t stay long to see what he thought of the mess she had made, merely took a few water bottles and headed out, westward once more.