Zombie Soap 2: Conspiracy

Ten

Jeannie/Echo Part II

Daniel remained by Echo's side all day, from helping her shower to bringing her food. At first, she'd felt self-conscious, yet he'd been nothing but polite and attentive to her needs. He didn't try to take advantage of her vulnerable state, nor did he make her feel like less than a human being.

Once she showered, he gave her privacy to dress, leaving her with a set of soft, cotton clothes and a pair of flats. When he came back, he donned a new uniform and pair of gloves, carrying a tray of food and setting it on a nearby desk. He pulled the desk chair out for her and motioned for her to sit as he unrolled a spoon and a napkin.

Echo's stomach rumbled loudly, cramping after nine days of nothing to fill her stomach. Her mouth watered from the strong smell of fresh food, and she closed her eyes, inhaling the aroma.

"It's good to see you craving real food," Daniel said with a grin, dropping into a chair beside her.

Echo hoped he wasn't implying something as ridiculous as zombies, but she wasn't as surprised as she felt like she should have been. He did say her virus would kill everyone. Or maybe he was just suggesting she liked to eat dirt or makeup.

She awkwardly reached for the soup spoon, closing her fist around it the way a toddler would. Her mind told her this gesture was wrong and that she needed her right hand instead. Liquid slopped back into the bowl, splashing a small amount of soup on to her shirt.

Echo huffed, dropping the spoon onto the tray with a clatter.

"You'll adapt," he said with a smile, reaching for the spoon. "Let's play a game."

Echo eyed him skeptically at she leaned back in her chair. "What kind of game?"

"One where you guess what's in the food."

She smirked, blurting out the first thing that came to mind in a creepy installation where she was the human guinea pig. "No poison?"

Daniel rolled his eyes as reached into his pocket. Plastic crinkled, and Echo wondered what he could need for a game. "Why would I go through the trouble of risking contamination and releasing you from the bed if I wanted to poison you? It'd be easier to let you die on the exam table."

Yikes. This man needed a better sense of humor, but in a way, Echo still preferred his blunt manner of speaking. He didn't beat around the bush or sugarcoat the truth, though he could probably work more on his delivery.

A blue surgical mask greeted them as he tore the wrapper open, sending Echo into a fit of giggles. "A mask? I think we're doing everything in the wrong order. I can't eat with something covering my mouth."

"I don't keep ties or blindfolds at the ready," he said, raising his eyebrows.

Heat flooded Echoe's cheeks at the innuendo as another image of her imaginary friend flashed before her eyes, this time of him with his ugly ass tie being wrapped around her wrists as he pinned her to the bed, nibbling at her breasts and collarbone. She'd gasp as his tongue roamed her body, and he'd tease her, hovering above her as she squirmed beneath him, trying to wrap her legs around his waist.

Happiness and despair warred inside her heart over the memory. For the life of her, Echo couldn't remember this man's name, but she was beginning to question whether he was imagined but instead someone she'd known. Her gut told her he was real-that they'd loved each other, and that she'd somehow lost him. A longing she couldn't explain expanded inside her chest, and suddenly, his face, his voice, and his arms around hers were all she could think of.