“Give comfort? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Yes. With your body. Everyone has something to contribute to the new society. You have your beautiful body. You’ll contribute that,” Prince said. “Now come here.”

The two men who’d brought her to the room pushed her forward. The Senator told them to back off and guided Rebecca toward a large black-leather ottoman. He pushed her over, her wrists bound behind her. She landed face down on the ottoman. Rebecca felt her panties ripped off of her. She screamed for help, but it did no good. The senator, enjoying his audience, indulged himself.

“I wanted you to know that if you’re a good Comfort Girl, and do exactly what you’re told, you’ll be perfectly safe, despite everything that’s going on out there. We’ve already arranged for an Army helicopter to deliver us fresh foods. Imagine that! Wine, too. I can hardly wait. Do you like wine?”

Rebecca, her hands still bound behind her by plastic handcuffs that cut into her wrists painfully, turned toward the Senator. She’d been unceremoniously stood up. She noticed for the first time that Prince’s face was red as if he were sunburned. She didn’t answer. She closed her eyes for a minute and did what she used to do when she was a little girl and woke from a nightmare.

I’ll wake up and Dad will be down the hall. I’ll wake up. It’s just a nightmare.

The sound of gunfire outside the hotel forced her to open her eyes. Senator Prince, re-tying his robe, ordered her taken to her room. One of the guards marched her out of the suite and into the lobby, naked except for her bra.

As the guard led her across the hotel lobby, Rebecca could see the Senator’s gunmen in the turnaround, fighting a pitched battle with a large group of Howlers. Two of the things made it past the gauntlet of shooters and ran into the lobby. The man guarding her turned and started to fire at the two Howlers, who ran straight for him.

Feeling herself let loose, Rebecca, her arms behind her, ran straight into an elevator door that magically opened. She expected to be grabbed from behind, by either a Howler or the guard. She turned as the door closed in front of her and saw the Howlers beating the gunman, who’d panicked and missed his shot. They had torn the rifle from his hands and were clubbing him to death with his own weapon.

The door closed before one of the Howlers could follow her. The thing’s hand was caught in the closing elevator door; the dirty hand reached for her. Rebecca raised her boot and kicked its hand as hard as she could. She could feel the elevator begin to rise. She watched the thing’s fingers finally slip out between the door’s big black rubber bumpers. She went to the console of buttons and pressed 6 with her elbow.

“Oh Jesus Christ, someone help me!” she said aloud, watching the lit display’s digital counter stop at the sixth floor. She started to shake, exhausted, feeling dirty and frightened, all her reserves of courage and bravado completely gone. She sagged to the floor. The elevator door opened as she wept.

“What the fuck,” Bell said. He and Patty had decided to try and escape, unable to find Johnny Ryder, Sue Ling or Rebecca.

Patty ran into the elevator and hit the Emergency Stop button. She looked down on Rebecca, who was sobbing uncontrollably. For a moment no one did anything. They could hear the shooting outside slow down, then stop all together.

Without thinking, Bell grabbed Rebecca by the shoulders and stood her up.

“Cut these fucking handcuffs off!” Rebecca said. Her face was wet with tears; she seemed hysterical. He pulled her into the hallway, had her face the wall, and cut her free of the plastic handcuffs with his pocketknife.

“Now what?” Patty said.

“I’m going to kill Prince,” Rebecca said. “Give me that pistol. Come on. Give it here.”

“What happened?” Patty said. “What did they do to you?”

“Just give me the fucking gun.”

Bell grabbed her and pushed her back into the wall. “You can’t. Okay? The only hope we have is getting out of here, now. Do you understand? We have to work together, or we, all three of us, die tonight.”

Rebecca’s eyes were crazy. “He raped me,” she said. “Give me that pistol or I’ll kill you, too.”

“Let her go,” Patty said. “You need something to wear, clothes.”

Bell let go of Rebecca’s shoulders. She rolled out from under him angrily. The elevator doors remained open, the doors jerking as they tried to close.

“You better unlock the elevator, or they’ll know something’s wrong,” Bell said.

Patty ducked into the elevator, unlocked it and stepped out. The door slid closed.

They trooped down the hall, Patty scouting empty rooms for clothes for Rebecca to wear. Bell, behind them, tried not to look at the naked girl. The raw and ugly new black tattoo—CG— on her right ass cheek terrified him.

CHAPTER 27

They’d noticed that Howlers were learning to use simple tools. The Howlers had worked together to muster battering rams. Groups of the things had started dragging trees they’d pulled down in the forest. Twenty or more, holding a tree, would run toward the cabin’s front door. Each time, the cabin’s defenders cut the Howlers down before they could reach the porch.

It was this new aspect, their learning to use tools, which had unnerved Summers. The second time they’d tried it he’d panicked and run down into the bunker, leaving his weapon on the floor, sure the Howlers would succeed in breaking in and kill them. He’d closed the safety door separating the lower bunker from the cabin, trapping the rest of them upstairs. No one had noticed.

The five remaining upstairs—Quentin, Lacy, Marvin, Miles and Dillon—were shocked and exhausted from the second battle. The numbers of Howlers that had attacked the cabin was something they’d never anticipated, or would ever forget. Thousands had attacked in wave after wave. Howlers of every kind, many obviously from cities—more black and brown Howlers now—rushed up the snow-covered road toward the tiny cabin. The five of them had stood by their gunports, firing their automatic weapons straight toward the horde. The sound of five automatic weapons, the barrels heating up so they were sometimes glowing red, had filled the tiny cabin. They had had no respite, no time for screaming, no time for crying, or for even drinking water. They had slaughtered thousands of Howlers, who now lay in heaps outside the cabin again. The beautiful snowy field had turned into an ugly battlefield reminiscent of the Somme or Gettysburg, carpeted with corpses.

   The battle had taken place over three hours in the dead of night, making it even more terrifying. By dawn, the floor of the cabin was covered with thousands of shell casings from the assault rifles. The sickening smell of cordite clung to their clothes and to the walls. Their trigger fingers were blistered and they had burns on their hands from handling their overheated weapons while reloading.

The dawn had come and they were drinking coffee in silence. An occasional pounding on the door of the cabin signaled that one of the many wounded Howlers had dragged itself over the corpses of the dead onto the smoldering charred porch and continued to attack, even bullet-torn and half-dead. They were still intent on breaking down the door and killing them all.

It all seemed impossible and yet they had seen it, and lived it. They’d managed to clear the field of fire from the mounds of dead Howlers stacked up in the kill zone one more time and in preparation for the next attack. Already more Howlers were gathering below on the road, calling out for more to join them. But the worst had been the sight of them carrying trees and running with them toward the cabin. It was their learning to work together that had terrified them more than anything. If they were learning to use tools, they soon might learn to use firearms.