DISEASE: A Zombie Novel by M.F. Wahl Read Free Book Online Page B

he’d been waiting with his hand on the box the entire time. Lot knew he was always quick to please and stayed loyal because she made sure the commune looked after his every need. For some people it was effortless to look the other way when the furnishings of an easy lifestyle blinded them.
    “Oliver, I think it’s time you allowed me to take Danny under my wing. I’ll look after him the way you would if you could. It pains me to see the boy so distressed, and his lack of acclimation is a warning sign of things to come.”
    Oliver blew his nose, soaking the tissue with snot while his head bounced up and down. He opened his mouth, trying to form another word, but Lot cut him off. The time for fishing was done and she was ready to reel in her trophy.
    “I know you’ve been resistant, but we will provide for you. You’ll receive care from your fellow brothers and sisters. You needn’t suck the childhood from your boy any longer.”
    Oliver’s head shook involuntarily, raw emotions playing across his face. Finally, and with great effort, he spit out the word Lot had been waiting to hear.
    “Okay.”
    Lot sat back in her chair. She’d been prepared to pull out the big guns, but this had gone so smoothly she couldn’t have planned it better. She smiled reassuringly at Oliver. He smiled weakly back.
    “It’s important that Danny understand this is your decision. For his well-being, he needs to know that you want this.”
    Oliver nodded agreement.
    “Good. Now, compose yourself and we’ll let the boy in.”
    The sniveling cripple wiped his eyes and blew his nose again. The deal was done.
    Danny struggled with the decision at first, but quickly came around to the idea. As much as he loved his father he was an over-burdened child, faced with the prospect of relief. It was obvious he felt guilty, and Lot knew he would struggle with that guilt for many years to follow, but with heavy-handed reassurances, he gave up control of his father’s care—not that he had a choice.
    “Come over here, little boy.” Lot motioned for Danny to come close. He shyly stepped around the desk to face her. Although she was petite, she was still large compared to the child, who was small for his age. His round blue eyes dared to have just a glimmer of hope in them and she smiled at him, warm and comforting. “Why don’t you pull up the chair over there and I’ll show you what I’m doing. I can teach you how I run this place.”
    “Okay.”
    Opie quietly wheeled Oliver away, the wheelchair bound man didn’t say goodbye.
    Lot tenderly ruffled Danny’s hair as he leaned closer to the computer screen. He had smiled openly and easily at the matronly woman he sat next to. He knew computers well and had been keen to know if Lot had some sort of shoot-em-up game. She promised him that if he stuck with her lessons she would get him anything he wanted.
    From that small, meek boy grew the moody man that Danny is today. Those around him fear him, but Lot knows the truth: that he’s a groveling servant, starving for scraps.
    There’s a knock on the door.
    “Come!”
    Thirteen-year-old Tyson pushes his pimpled face through the door.
    “Can I help you?”
    Tyson steps timidly into the office. Danny had been a late bloomer, but this kid is a vat of pubescent hormones, the candlelight accentuating his awkwardness. The boy’s voice cracks as he speaks and brief swell of nausea rides over Lot’s spine. “Hannah sent me in to tell you that the traitor has been confirmed deceased.”
    “Fine. Thank you.”
    The boy smiles, a hint of the man he’ll become peeking out from under sour skin. Lot can’t look at him anymore without vomiting and she averts her gaze, seeking refuge in the large painting on the wall. “Please tell Hannah I no longer wish you as her messenger. Tell her to assign you different duties and to send Isaiah from now on.”
    Tyson’s throat catches. God, she hopes he doesn’t start bawling.
    “But—but, he’s only