Resistance
14. Wednesday
Robert made his way home slowly, painfully, as the sun sank below the horizon, limping and holding his sides. He was pretty sure at least a few of his ribs were broken. Still, it was a miracle at all to be alive, let alone freed from captivity.
The pistol had been levelled right at his face, hammer pulled back, the General’s finger tightened on the trigger, and she hadn’t even bothered to stand up, her thoughtful, gentle expression that of a matronly grandmother contemplating what to cook for dinner. It was well known that she always performed all of the QZ’s executions personally, out of fidelity to whatever moral code she subscribed to.
In that moment, Robert, certain that his life was at an end, had felt nothing but a grim resignation fall over himself.
“Go ahead then, if you think you have to,” he’d said tersely. “Anything I’ve done was for the sake of my family. If I had it to do over again, I’d change nothing.”
And he waited then in suspended silence, thinking only about the unknown fates of his wife, daughter and son, hoping only for their happiness and well being.
But rather than firing and ending Robert’s life, the General suddenly bent her arm at the elbow instead, the gun’s muzzle pointed at the ceiling as she lowered the hammer slowly back to rest with a click.
“Aren’t you the brave one?” the General had asked quietly with a wry, slanted smile, shoving the pistol back into its leather holster, snapping the flap cover over it with an experienced hand. And even then, Robert had kept his composure, despite being inches from death and abruptly pulled back from the brink. “Seems a pity to splatter all of that knowledge inside of your head across the wall—though I think you deserve it.
“I’m really not sure what to do with you, to be perfectly candid,” she said, wincing slightly as she rose to her feet, the soldiers around her standing to attention. “And so, you’ll die a different day…”
She strode out of the room, pausing at the doorway.
“But we’ll be keeping an eye on you, Robert,” the General added. “Don’t delude yourself into believing this…” Her hand twirled about as she searched for the words. “...familial devotion of yours… contributed to your respite.
“Rather, I think there’s still some value to be had out of you.
“We’ll speak again.”
And that had been it.
In the General’s absence, he’d been questioned again, repeating his story, telling all he knew, they had beaten him a few more times, trying to extract various false confessions, and then abruptly and without explanation, they had seemingly simply had enough, apparently satisfied that Robert knew nothing more.
He had given them everything after all. There was nothing else to tell. There was that one nagging doubt, that worrying concern, that “what if..?” that lived in the back of his mind... But why share that? Why even discuss something that was so improbable and unlikely?
What would he have gotten for divulging that small, irrational fear? Most likely the outright extermination of his family. If they were lucky, perhaps the privilege to spend their remaining days in isolation cells. Or ejection from the Quarantine Zone altogether, left to fend for themselves in the wild, amongst the infected.
As Robert hobbled painfully up the porch steps, he felt only relief at knowing that the ordeal was over, and a certain dour satisfaction that despite his treatment, he hadn’t been broken. They hadn’t beaten him into submission, and now here he was, injured but free, returning home, about to reunite with his family, for whom he had fought so hard to protect.
But when Robert opened the door, the sight before him wiped away those lifting feelings in an instant.
How, he wondered.
How could I have been so stupid..?
It was the first thought that entered his head as he stood there numbly in the entrance, paralyzed by the scene in front him.
They were infected. All of them. Derek, recovered, a muscle bound hulk, lying on the floor. His wife Christine straddling him, riding their son’s cock, barely recognizable, appearing to have regressed twenty years in age, body fit and taut, enormous jugs bouncing up and down. Meghan sitting on her brother’s face, getting eaten out, looking more like Christine’s younger vixen sister than her daughter. In fact, they were a little difficult to tell apart, as they made out heavily, mouths open, tongues intertwined.
Robert groaned loudly, his hands going up to clutch his head, as if this were all some horrible nightmare he could will away.
Meghan looked over at that, breaking the passionate kiss with her sexy, slutty mother.
“Oh, look,” she said serenely, unsurprised, eyes half closed in lust, humping her brother’s face all the while.
“Daddy’s home...”
Robert slowly shut the door behind him.