Forbitten

Prologue

It was infected, and it was starving. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have chanced going down the ventilation shaft where all those warm, delicious odors were emanating from.

Very little remained of what people would have identified the creature decades ago as a squirrel. Most of the fur was gone, leaving the tail as nothing more than a long, skinny length of skin and bone with a grayish tuft at the end. The head was bigger to accommodate the massively larger eyes, and its teeth were long, curved, and brutally sharp. Sharp enough to gnaw through the protective webbing that covered one of the numerous air holes it encountered.

Once it managed to penetrate that barrier, it continued downward, following the almost vertical descent. The insides of the tube were no longer slick and shiny as they’d once been. Through the years they’d become coated with fungus, mold, and mildew caused by the weather, leaving enough residue for the rodent to maintain good traction.

It reached another obstruction. This one was there to keep plant spores and bacteria from filtering through. It was nine inches of Foam-Lite insulation, and it took the squirrel less than an hour to dig a tunnel through it with its razor-sharp front claws.

From there, the creature had carte blanche to go anywhere it chose. The ducts became wider as the myriad tubes leading from above converged. The mutated animal followed its nose, honing in on the scent of food, and thus, survival. As it drew closer to the human population, it detected strange sounds. Sounds that normally would have frightened away most wild animals. But the squirrel was long past caring about anything other than its search for food. In its tiny brain, it knew it was dead anyway if it didn’t feed soon. It was willing to take whatever risk necessary.

The air shaft leveled out, enabling the animal to move more quickly. The scent of food was everywhere now, which meant that no matter what direction it took, it would be successful.

A high-pitched laugh caught its attention. The sound vibrated the metal beneath its feet. The squirrel paused to sniff the air, its ears twitching. The laughter came again, and it took off to find the source.

Chapter 1

Bitten

Miss March.

Shaddoe glanced up from her meal. Yes?

The guard gestured for her to follow him. Glancing down at her meal she’d barely had time to touch, she left the table. Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d be able to beg one of the kitchen staff for a few leftovers, if there were any. Otherwise, it was going to be a long and hungry eight hours until the next time she’d be allowed to eat.

When the guard punched the fourth level button in the elevator, she knew exactly where they were going. Her stomach tightened into knots as she tried to recall any offense she’d made, any law she may have inadvertently broken, but her mind was blank. Nervously, she clasped her hands together and hoped whatever punishment the Premier planned to inflict on her wouldn’t be too severe. She still bore marks from the last time she’d been whipped with a belt.

As they exited the elevator, Shaddoe glanced around at the opulent furnishings in the hallway. This floor was reserved for the very wealthy and powerful. They had soft carpeting to walk upon, and the walls were pristine clean and painted a soft green. Even the overhead lights were covered with frosted globes, instead of bare bulbs like they were in the rest of the bunker.

They walked to the end of the hallway where two more guards stood on either side of the set of double doors. One of the uniformed men opened a door for them, and Shaddoe followed her escort inside.

On one hand, she was terrified to be here, especially when she didn’t know what crime she’d committed. But on the other hand, this place was paradise to be inside. For one thing, it was cool in the summer, and warm in the winter. And it was beautifully furnished. Not a single dented, repaired, or homemade piece of furniture. All of it, including the artwork and sculptures, had been scavenged from above, usually at the cost of someone’s life. Or several lives.

Premier Rausch was sitting behind her desk, several sheets of paper in her hand. Paper was one of the few homemade items she used, considering it was the only way they could have any. Years ago, people had used things called computers and the internet to communicate. That was before the Nuclear War. Before nearly all of mankind and his technology was wiped from the face of the Earth. Since then, the remaining survivors had been forced to make do with what they could scrounge or make for themselves.

The woman didn’t look up when Shaddoe was let into the office. Thankfully, she wasn’t having to face this alone. Another person had been summoned. Dury gave her a nod but remained silent, since neither of them had been given permission yet to speak.

Rausch gathered up her papers and tamped them on the desk to straighten them. As always, the woman was immaculately dressed and coiffed. Even her nails were long and buffed to a high sheen.

I just got the reports from your supervisors. And I’m disheartened to see that you both are ranked lowest in your departments. Not only have you failed to achieve your mandatory quotas for the week, but you’ve lagged behind for three weeks running. Especially you, Dury. The woman looked up at them. What do you have to say for yourselves?

I ran behind because I didn’t receive my materials in a timely fashion, Dury explained. I can’t do my work if I don’t have what I need.

Rausch’s face remained passive as she turned to Shaddoe.

I was tasked with learning a new craft. It’s very time-consuming, and I made a few mistakes. So I had to undo all I’d done and start over. It put me behind.

The Premier pressed her thin lips together. You do realize that making excuses does not excuse you from producing your quotas. Her remark wasn’t meant to be taken as a question. Shaddoe knew it, as did Dury. They both kept silent as they awaited their punishment.

Rausch continued. If everyone made up excuses for not doing their fair share of the work, this bunker would quickly fall into ruin. People would starve. Everything would become contaminated. Living here would rapidly become intolerable. She shook her head, reached for a pencil, and made a notation on the top sheet of paper. Since you are incapable of pulling your own weight during your regular work hours, it’s only fair that you take some of your off-duty hours to make up for it. Both of you are to report to the kitchen for extra work detail immediately after your regular shifts are over.

Aww, Mom, no!

Rausch gave her son a stern eye. "No one is allowed to shirk their duties, including you, Dury. The populace has to believe I treat everyone fairly and equally, which means I can’t show any favoritism. Not even to you. Now, you will continue to report for extra duty until which time your regular duties are back in compliance, and you again meet your quotas. You’re dismissed."

The woman set the paper to the side and wrote her orders on a sheet of her official letterhead. Folding it in half, she handed it to one of the guards, then waved them all away. She hadn’t given them a chance to rebut, and neither of them dared. Not when two armed guards stood behind them, ready to lead them away.

Bowing her head, Shaddoe followed her guard back to the elevator. Relief at knowing she wasn’t going to be belted again almost made her giddy. Although there was no telling how many hours they would have to put in at the kitchen, it was far better than having to go to work in pain.

As they approached the kitchen, the smell of food made her stomach tighten, and she glanced over at Dury, who appeared to be brooding. The young man caught her eyeing him, but motioned for silence. He was right. They would have time to talk later, once the guards were gone.

They arrived at the side entrance during a momentary lull in serving. It was the end of the second shift, and not yet time for the third and final shift to arrive. Marcy Vellstar looked up from the pot she was stirring on the stove as the guards entered, along with Shaddoe and Dury. The one with the orders handed the paper over to the kitchen manager, who read it.

Got it, the woman said, stuffing the paper in her apron pocket.

The guards left without saying a word.

Vellstar stared at her two new charges. Well, shoot me in the eyes. It’s the Premier’s son. Never thought I’d see the day when I’d have any say-so over your ass. So you’re gonna hafta work off in here what you didn’t do during your regular shifts, eh? She stared at Shaddoe’s hair that hung loose over her shoulders. We follow a strict hygiene protocol here. Put that hair up under a cap, or else I’ll have it cut off. Pointing to a door behind them, she ordered, Go grab some cleaning supplies, and get to scrubbing. Without waiting for an answer, the woman went back to her pot.

Shaddoe and Dury hurried into the storage room to gather up what they thought they’d need. But first they donned aprons to keep from being splattered, and Shaddoe tied her long blonde tresses up and inside a hand towel, tucking the ends underneath. As they pulled on gloves to protect their hands from the harsh cleaning agents, Shaddoe finally whispered, Have you eaten yet?

Just finished. You?

She gave a quick shake of her head. I was called in right at the beginning of my shift, and didn’t get to. Sighing, she looked over at the door leading into the kitchen. I wonder if they’ll let us have some leftovers when we’re done?

Dury snorted. What leftovers? You know that if you’re not at the front of the line at the start of third shift, you can pretty much kiss off having anything to eat.

He was right, and he should know. First shift was reserved for the upper echelon, like Premier Rausch and her Cabinet, along with the guards. They weren’t restricted to one serving, but were allowed to have as much as they wanted, even if they left a lot on their plates. Second shift had to finish what first shift left behind on their trays before they were allowed to be served from the pots directly. And third shift got what little was left. To make things fair, second and third shifts flip-flopped time slots every six months. But first shift always remained first.

Taking a mop and a bucket, Dury opened the door to exit the storage room. A wave of cooking food washed over her, and Shaddoe’s stomach cramped even more. Despite knowing that there was usually nothing left after third shift, she made a note to keep an eye open for anything she and Dury might be able to share. However, it was highly doubtful. The kitchen staff deliberately didn’t cook enough to feed everyone. If they did, and there was food remaining unserved and uneaten afterwards, they’d be severely punished for being wasteful.

Third shift was arriving, and the kitchen workers were rushing to serve them. Shaddoe looked down at the floor that was coated with filth and grime, most of it food that had fallen off trays and left there to rot. Hygiene protocols, my ass, she mentally berated the staff. It was obvious the floor hadn’t seen a decent scrubbing in weeks. Maybe months. And since there was no one to oversee that it got cleaned, other than the manager, it was apparent it was given short shrift. If it ever had a daily sweep of a broom or mop, she’d be surprised.

She found a spot out of the way, dropped to her knees, and began to work on the build-up in that section. Dury started at the opposite side of the kitchen, in an area where she couldn’t see him.

The constant smell of food was making her lightheaded as she tried to scrub the cement. Worse, the fumes from the cleansers were leaving her nauseous. At any time, she expected Vellstar to berate her for the smell, and order her and Dury out of the kitchen until shift was over. Or maybe have her attempt to clean with water alone. Keeping her head down, she continued to drag the rags over the grunge with both hands.

Tilly, one of the workers, walked past. At the last second, she spotted Shaddoe, and side-stepped to avoid hitting her. The sudden movement dislodged the potato masher perched on top of the bowl she was carrying. The utensil fell onto the floor, almost striking Shaddoe. Muttering a curse word, the worker bent down to retrieve the masher before continuing on her way.

For a couple of seconds, Shaddoe stared at the globs of mashed potatoes that had fallen onto the floor. Before she could think about it, she hastily scooped up the barely handful of food and stuffed it into her mouth. The gritty texture was hot, but it was something, and put a small bit of nourishment into her body.

Shaddoe wiped her lips with the back of her hand, when a scream pierced the room. The next instant, someone else shrieked, "Infected! Infected!" and pandemonium erupted. People yelled in fear as they ran for the one exit. One woman nearly bowled her over as she fled the kitchen.

Panicked, she managed to get to her feet and look around, trying to find out where the danger was located. On the other side of the kitchen, Dury was beating at something with his mop. The terrified look on his face was enough to tell her he was trying to defend himself against whatever had invaded the kitchen. She hesitated as she debated whether or not to try to help him, when something zipped around the corner of the preparation area and came straight at her.

Shaddoe screamed as it wound around her feet for a second. She involuntarily kicked at it, hoping to knock it away, when she felt a sharp pinch above her left ankle. She kicked again, and this time she connected. The thing went sailing over the counter, landing on top of the stove.

The thing screeched in pain as it caught fire from the flames still burning underneath the grates. It managed to drop to the floor where it writhed in agony. The air filled with the stench of singed fur and skin, making her gag.

Dury suddenly appeared and stared at the partially scorched animal. Shaddoe waved to get his attention. "Hit it! Hit it!"

The animal moved, rolling onto its belly to get its feet underneath it. Realizing Dury wasn’t going to move, Shaddoe wrested the mop from his hand and continued beating the creature with the handle. Blood flew up in the air, splattering the counters and cabinets with gore. When she finally stopped, the broken and dead animal’s remains tainted the kitchen with its foul odor.

Hey, you okay?

He glanced up to see her holding out a hand to him. Yeah. He gave her a wobbly nod. Yeah. You? A second later, stark fear crossed his face, and he glanced down at his arm. In that instant, she knew what he wasn’t going to tell her. Peeling away the sleeve of his blood-stained shirt, the thumb nail-sized wound was clearly visible, proof he’d been bitten by the creature. And because they both had, they’d been dealt their death warrants.

Shaddoe swallowed hard, forcing down the bile rising in her throat. It was just a matter of time before they’d find out she also had been bitten. Unable to stop herself, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Chapter 2

Banished

Everyone who’d been inside the kitchen at the time the animal entered was rounded up and sent to a detention area, where they’d be checked for any sign of a bite wound. Because she and Dury had some of the creature’s blood on them, they were taken to separate rooms. There, she was made to strip down so she could be sprayed and then examined to see if the infected beast had bitten or scratched her, or if any of the thing’s blood had gotten into her mouth.

Shaddoe followed orders without protest. Sooner or later her injury would come to light. Either when someone noticed her wound, or when she evolved into one of those mindless creatures because of the virus the infected carried.

The blast of cold water almost knocked her down. She cried out as the stinging spray burned when it hit her naked body. Water went up her nose and filled her mouth, nearly drowning her. She coughed, fighting for breath, when the wash-down suddenly ceased.

A man dressed in protective gear stepped forward. You can make this easy on yourself, or you can make it hard. Your decision. First question, were you bit?

Before he could repeat his