Prologue: The story so far...the USA and almost every other country in the world has been subjected to a short nuclear war, destroying most civilised life. 19 year old Allie Cooke was a student nurse before the war, and in the shattered remains of Omaha has been tending to the wounded, the sick and the mad. On New Years Day she is kidnapped and brought to a place where she meets a mutant, and a half-naked female prisoner. Bound and gagged, Allie lies at the mercy of an evil she is yet to truly understand.
Chapter 4
As the fetid form of what could only be described as a deformed freak went to grab for Allie's bra, obviously intending to tear it away from her perky breasts, the door swung open once more. Another shaft of the same incandescent light briefly illuminated the room before another person stormed in, the form of the second person merging with Allie's tormentor to darken much of the space.
"Not now Jones! Stop...or else." The voice that issued from the new presence in the room was masculine, fashioned along the lines of well-ingrained authority. Whoever this man was, his command had an instant effect. Jones, the misshapen molester withdrew his hand as if he had stuck it in boiling oil. He took a shuffling step back and cowered as the second man walked over to Allie. Betty, the other female prisoner sharing the room with Allie cried inconsolably, with despair in her voice deeper than before. All Allie could do was lie there and stare up at the ill-lit figure who loomed over her.
"I trust you weren't hurt by Corporal Jones here Miss Cooke?" The voice seemed calm; solicitous, even. "He can be rather over-eager to make friends," at which point the stranger softly laughed at his own joke "but please don't hold it against him. The war...well it left Corporal Jones not just with physical scars." With a wave of his hand the second man indicated the burnt, twisted and scabbed body of the corporal. He then reached down and removed the gag from Allie's mouth, and as he did this she took in a great breath and coughed for some seconds. Then she tried to focus on who it was that was addressing her. Questions flooded her mind, and it was difficult to coalesce them into any logical speech.
"Who...what am I...who...why am I here? Where am I? Why am I tied...."
The cool detached voice spoke again. "Please, don't concern yourself with the where and who for now Miss Cooke.."