Ch3

Author's Note: This chapter could get boring for some; however, since I plan to take this series very far in story, I felt a little exposition was in order. I sense a whole lot of potential in this story and a lot can be put in it. Plus, this chapter will reveal quite a lot about the universe of Hey Zombies and it could keep you reading on. So prepare yourselves for a lot of intriguing conversation, plus crisis strikes for Arnold's crew. Let's begin.

(06:36 Pacific Time, West Wing of FTI Station Kappa)

The howling wind disturbed Miles and kept him chilled as he rested on his battered cot. Not a minute passed that he thought of his wife Stella, or his son and where he was. All he could do was lay on a deteriorating mattress, scrubbing at the scars on his arms from the torture he had to endure. At that particular moment, Miles was scratching away at the wall, marking a tally for day 63 of being locked up. As he set the pebble on the floor beside his bed, he looked up at the small window that poked a bit of sunlight into his cell. The morning was just starting, but Miles couldn't see it, he had no idea what was going on in the outside world.

Just then, the door creaked open, and two pairs of footsteps came pattering over to his cell door. He sat up on his cot, hands clutching at the mattress as he awaited his prosecutors. His interrogator, the man in the black suit, stood towering over him, casting a shadow between Miles and the single light bulb that lit the hall outside his cell. With the man in black was a guard in full uniform, clutching an MP5 in his hands.

"You need to come with me Miles." The man said.

"Now why would I do that?" Miles asked.

"I think it's time you finally get your chance to see the light." He said.

"Victor, what could you possibly be thinking that would convince me to go anywhere with you." He asked.

The man, called Victor, responded, "Because it could help you get your son back."

Miles' eyes widened as he looked at Victor, his own brow reassuring, with determination in his voice. Miles sighed as he patted his knees and stood up. Immediately, the guard entered his cell and took him by both his wrists, cuffing them with loose metal rings. He then pushed Miles out of the cell and Victor grabbed him by his right arm. The two began to walk Miles out of the room that housed his singular cell.

The halls were brightly lit; chrome white paint reflected the lights that hung from the ceiling. Standing out from the white colors were Victor, the man in the black suit, and Miles, in his tattered khaki shirt and jeans, scars running up and down his arms and a long red mark on his forehead.

Soon enough, the three men reached an elevator. Victor pushed the call button and turned to the guard, "Lieutenant you're dismissed." The guard nodded and walked away. The elevator then opened; its metal rubbing against the internal hardware of the elevator's workings. Miles and Victor then walked inside. They stood in silence as the elevator climbed, dinging on each floor, "4….7…16….20". Once it hit floor 20, the elevator halted. The doors pried open, and Victor led Miles out into the hallway, much narrower and shorter. There was only one door, two guards stood at attention on both sides. Victor gestured his hand to the door and Miles walked to it, his hands still cuffed behind his back. Victor rushed up to the door and grabbed the knob, opening the door to let Miles in, and he followed suit.

The office was very large; two couches were set up on one side next to a small marble counter with glass bottles on top, indicating a mini bar. Miles looked at it as Victor walked over to a desk and then back over to him, holding a letter opener in his hands.

"For my advisors." Victor said with a smirk as he cut the bondage that held Miles' wrists together. He then turned to look at the desk in front of him, he walked over to it, leaving Miles standing in the middle of the room, on pale dark blue carpet, a large circular target embedded in red thread was sitting in the middle of the carpet. Victor walked over to the large windows that expanded the entire back wall and looked down. He looked back at Miles and gestured him over to the window.

"Look down there Miles." Miles walked over to the window and gazed down. Several brick buildings spanned an area of at least 10,000 acres. The buildings looked solid; several windows were planted on all sides. Miles realized they were apartment buildings.

"See that I'm trying my best to save lives in this chaotic situation." Victor began to walk away but continued to talk, "Hundreds have helped initiate this movement, and more are pouring in every day. I'm trying my damnedst to ensure the survival of our citizens, before this gets out of hand. You need to understand that my intentions are pure, I have a good head on my shoulder, and you're the only one who's in my way. Now tell me Miles, why are you not giving me the information that I need to know."

Miles continued to stare out at the buildings, the windows looked compact, close together. How comfortable could all those people be in there? He wondered. Then he looked at Victor, a stern look as if he wanted him dead.

Then he said, "Tell me," Miles paused, "If you're so desperate to find out where my son is; then why was he left behind when our helicopter crashed?"

Victor looked him square in the eyes, aware of Miles' knowledge, knowing he very well may have to adjust his plan.

"I wanted to test them." Victor said.

"Test them?" Miles asked, surprised.

"Yes Miles, I wanted to test their endurance and survival instincts out in their….'natural habitat'." Victor responded.

"Natural habitat? Victor, they're not animals! These are human beings!"

"Yes Miles I know."

"That is my son you're talking about! Three months ago you promised me this would not get out of hand, with your constant tampering. But here we are, your "experiment" is unleashed on the country and inevitably the world."

"That's where your son comes in Miles. If we could test him in this environ-"

"Don't, don't give me that bullshit Victor. You've told me this before in the last ten years and I still don't want to hear it. Arnold's experience in San Lorenzo has nothing to do with this."

"But you don't know that, Miles. He doesn't either. Imagine, the power that you experienced, with your own eyes in that deep jungle, think of the possibilities. The fact that your son, as well as so many others, was exposed to the immense power of the Green eye-"

"Don't keep digging Victor.." Miles interrupted, "Dig up the unknown and all you're gonna get is dirty."

"Go ahead Miles, intimidate me. Threaten me with your 'magic' talk. You'll eventually understand what I'm trying to do here."

"You're trying to make a buck is all; and you're using my son as just another one of your variables. He and his friends."

"Just wait Miles, you'll see. With everything they've been exposed to, testing them in the midst of this pandemic, we could find hope. For all we know, a cure could be found, and distributing it could be the biggest turning point in this outbreak."

"And let me guess, once you find this 'cure', it's gonna be pretty pricey. Am I right?" Victor stood there in silence, "Am I right?!" Miles clenched his fists. Victor merely turned back to the window.

Outraged from his son, his wife, the chaos that's happening right outside, Miles charged Victor, slamming him against the window, he flipped him around and grasped him by the jacket.

"You tell me Victor! Am I right?" Miles said as he slammed Victor against the window, "This was all your plan! You did this just to make more money you greedy bastard!"

The guards outside heard the chaos and burst into the room, seeing the struggle in the far back, they charged at Miles, taking repeated strikes with their batons till his grip of Victor was loose and he was on the floor.

"Doctor Richtofen, are you alright?" One of them asked.

"I'm fi-I'm fine. Take him back down to his cell, and check on his wife, make sure she's still keeping our subjects company." Victor ordered.

As he was dragged away, Miles could only utter, "Where's my wife you son of a bitch, what've you done to her? Where's my wife?! Where's my son!?" He hopelessly cried, his shouts fading away from Victor's ear.

Victor turned back to the window, he grabbed a handkerchief from his desk and wiped at the smears left on the glass from his and Miles' struggle. He stopped and gazed down at the compound, hundreds of people at his feet.

(Meanwhile, somewhere in Bradford Pennsylvania)

Arnold bent down and examined a red stain on the ground. He and Gerald had arrived at the gas station that Arnold had previously scavenged and struggled with bandits.

"So Arnold, you're telling me that two roughneck bandits jumped you at this very spot, and you let them get away?" Gerald asked.

"I wasn't going to kill them, they just wanted my supplies." Arnold responded.

"Or else they would've killed you!" Gerald said, "Arnold, your boldness surprises me sometimes."

Arnold smiles and looked at him, "Gerald how many times in your life are you gonna acknowledge how 'bold' I am." Gerald placed his hand on Arnold's shoulder.

"Till the day I die brother." Gerald smiled.

Just then, a surge of pain struck Arnold in the head, he clutched it and grunted a bit.

"What's the matter dude?" Gerald said.

"I don't..know." Arnold said in pain as images sped through his head again. For split seconds he could see Gerald on the ground, a hooded figure pinning him and beating him senselessly, Charlie tied to a pole, shirtless and knife wounds all over his front body, himself and Gerald getting dragged by two more hooded figures.

Just then they stopped, Arnold looked up at Gerald, "We have to go."

"What-What do you mean?" Gerald asked.

"No time Gerald! We have to go! Run!" The two began to make a dash away from the gas station, but right then, a gunshot rang out. Gerald immediately hit the ground, blood running from his right leg.

"Agh dammit!' He exclaimed. Arnold ran to his aid.

"Gerald you okay?"

"I'm fine, but my leg was hit. Who the hell fired that shot." He asked.

"I don't know" Arnold said, "I don't know where-" Right then, Arnold turned around to check his surroundings, but he was oblivious of the hooded figure that was sneaking up on him as he examined Gerald with a rock in his hands. As soon as Arnold saw him, the figure swung the rock at Arnold's face, sending him to the ground, unconscious.

The figure knelt down and checked Arnold's pulse, he was still alive. Gerald lay there surprised, "Who the hell are you?" He asked.

The figure looked at him, "An acquaintance of your friend here." He said, gesturing to Arnold. He grabbed his hood and pulled it back, revealing the face of Brig, the vested thug that Arnold had combated earlier.

"It was only a matter of time," Brig grumbled. He walked over to Gerald and before Gerald could say anything, Brig took a swing at him, knocking him out on the first blow. Checking both bodies, he looked back at the gas station.

"We're good Chet! Nice shot!" Brig called.

Out of the shadows in the gas station came the small hefty guy that accompanied Brig, named Chet. In his hands was a .22 caliber rifle, he cocked the bolt and let the rifle dangle by its shoulder harness.

"Dinner time?" He asked, a gritty decaying smile on his face.

"Not yet, we'll bring them to camp, see what the big man says." Brig recklessly tossed Arnold over his shoulder, Chet took Gerald and dragged the two away from the gas station and back on the road.

The first function to come back was Arnold's ears. He could hear two voices but was unable to make out what was being said. Eventually he could feel his eyelids twitching and was barely able to open them. Just then he could hear grinding metal, a link of chains was tossed beside him and he could feel tension being loosened in his arms. He had been sitting up against a pole, his wrists chained to a handle that was above him. As he regained his sight, he could see several vehicles around him. Ones that looked like RVs. To his left, he could see a sign hanging tall over the land, only two letters glowed in red neon lighting, a V, and a C.

After re-focusing his eyesight, Arnold could see that it read No Vacancy, with just the V and C lit. Just then he felt a shove from behind him. He lunged forward and fell to the dirt.

"Get up!" a voice ordered. Arnold then felt a hard slam against his side, he looked to his side and saw his assailant, Brig was standing tall over him. He began to crouch down and got in Arnold's face. Arnold could smell liquor.

"Didn't see this coming, huh you little shit?" Brig said sadistically. He stood up again and kicked Arnold once more, "Now get the fuck up! The big boss wants to see you."

Arnold slowly rose to all fours, "What?" Brig decided to speed up his standing process and flung him to his feet. As Arnold stood, he saw what he was chained to, a small red spigot used to distribute water for tenants. They were in an abandoned trailer park.

"Says he knows you. Now move!" Brig began to shove Arnold along as he moved. Arnold looked around, he saw the RVs, no one appeared to be inside them. He saw a fire to his right where Chet was crouching down next to a body tied to another spigot. He couldn't make out if it was Gerald or not, but on account of the figure's small body mass and lack of tall hair, he doubted it was.

Brig brought him to another RV, however this one had lights on inside, as well as a small generator humming next to it, "Hey Boss!" Brig called, "Get out here, brought your friend!"

"Where's my friend?" Arnold asked. Brig looked at him.

"He's here….however, don't know for how long." He said with a chuckle. There was raucous going on inside the trailer, then the door opened.

A short lanky figure came out, his black feathered jacket matted to his body and strings of hair draped over his forehead out of a green ballcap that sat backwards on his head. The short lanky figure looked at Arnold, a crooked smile on his face.

"Hey Arnold." The young teenager said.

Arnold looked closer, his eyes widening with surprise, "Sid?"

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To be continued.