“Those people back at the school hated you,” Betty says. “They hated all of us. Just like everybody else.”
“Young lady,” Bob says, “those people were infected. Would you rather we had left them to turn? Left them to wander the earth in pain and without salvation?”
“Bullshit,” Karen spits. “They were fine when we left. They’d of been fine when we got back if it wasn’t for you bastards.”
Chuck turns to look at Bob. He wears an odd expression of knowing something he’d rather not. He shakes his head no at Bob.
“So you were staying with those people but had left for the day?” Bob asks still staring Karen down. “You left by the gate on the north side of the building?”
Karen’s eyes dart around to all of us. Her fingers readjust on the little pistols grip. “Yeah. How did you know? Were you watching?”
Bob puts his hands down slowly. “A small girl, a girl who was bitten badly on the shoulder told us that someone had left the gate open. She had gone out to shut it but it was too late. The undead were already inside.”
“Well, hell,” Kevin sighs.
All eyes turn to Karen. I can see the back of Chuck’s head turn back and forth like a lawn sprinkler on a pivot. Archie’s head turns with him. Bob stares ahead at Karen in righteous judgment and condemnation.
Karen’s hand begins to tremble slightly as the pistol pans off Bob. I find myself looking directly down the barrel. I lock eyes with her but there is no one there. She is staring straight through me and into someone who isn’t there; someone who doesn’t exist in this dimension. I pull hard and to the left, knocking Chuck out of the way with me. A ringing fills my ears. We land in a pile on top of Archie who is cowering with his tail between his legs.
Betty and Daisy open up from their side of the room. I feel the concussion of each round ripping through the air as round after round explodes through the house. Kevin is yelling at the top of his lungs, “Hold it! Hold it! Hold it!’ but he sounds like he is underwater to me. Bob and Tyler have hit the deck behind me. Kevin is holding the edge of his flannel shirt up over his head to deflect the debris from the shattered stair railing.
It stops. Betty and Daisy are out of ammo. Karen is untouched and walks forward. Her face has gone white but the slide on the .25 is still forward and the hammer is still back. She is in shock. If her finger moves even a millimeter…
Kevin snatches the pistol out of her hand and drops the magazine. “Goddamn crazy fuck’n…” he lets the phrase disappear into the air as he pulls out the empty clip. “What the hell, man?”
“Shit,” Betty spits.
Daisy laughs. “Oh my god, we’re such totally bad shots.”
Karen explodes into a shrill scream before slumping against the wall in flood of tears. She sobs silently and buries her head between her knees.
I look at the pieces of door blown away behind where I was standing and can’t help but smile. Which spreads uncontrollably across my face and down into my chest. I begin to laugh as I brush away bits of plaster and wood. Chuck and Archie scoot forward and away from me. Behind me Bob and Tyler are picking themselves up off the ground.
Kevin looks down at me from his perch on the stairs and shakes his head, “Holy shit.”
My laughter is uncontrollable and I feel drunk from lack of sleep. I am out of adrenaline and everything in the world is absolutely beautiful and pointless. The future and the past have shrunk to a crust of minutes that crumbles off the edges of what is exactly now. I close my eyes and laugh breathlessly. A tear rolls out of my eye punctuated by a gasping “Whoooo boy.”
Archie crawls out from under Chuck and starts licking my face, his wet sandpaper tongue dragging across my cheek. I pet him on the shoulders while Chuck begins to wriggle up off the floor. “You people are fucked up,” he mutters.
“You got that right,” Kevin says. And with that, he pulls the small brass pipe out of his shirt pocket. “Welllll,” he says slowly, “I’m smoke’n a bowl.”
I roll to my knees while still petting Archie. Daisy has moved over to give Chuck a hand up, “Hi,” she smiles. “I’m Daisy. Where’s that chocolate?”
Betty is trying to reload her shotgun. Kevin turns and says, “Need sum hep?”
“No,” Betty mutters. The round finally slides home. She wipes her hair out of her face and asks, “Which part are you supposed to aim with again?”
“We haven’t had a hot meal in quite some time… ” Bob begins from the dining area.
“Groundhog,” Kevin says and sucks in a big hit of skunk. “Hep yersef.”
I stand up and walk to Karen. She looks up at me with broken red eyes swollen from crying. I offer her my hand. She takes it and stands up. “I suppose you and I should have a chat.” She nods and wipes her nose.
“You two ought to fuck or kill each other,” Betty snipes from the other side of the stairs. The sound of the bolt closing on her shotgun punctuates her sentence.
Chuck is up and smiling at Daisy. “You mentioned chocolate?” she asks and bats her eyelashes. Chuck’s smile broadens.
Tyler is up and stalks back to the dinner table. “You mentioned chocolate,” he mocks under his breath.
Karen and I move out the front door into the still falling rain. I nod towards one of the outbuildings. We walk in silence into the black night.
Chapter 10: Just the Two of Us
She lights a candle and sets it on the small table beneath the window. A bed is made up on the floor of the opposite wall. A door leads into another small room at the back of the shed. In the corner, a wood burning stove sits glowing warm. I sit down at the table and remove a layer of clothing. I drape my jacket over a chair and begin taking off the holster that holds my scoped single shot pistol. As I pull the strap of the shoulder holster over my head, I catch a true whiff of myself. “Jesus,” I say to myself.
“What?” Karen asks.
“I stink.”
“Yeah, you do,” she says flatly. “That’s why we’re out here. This is the bathhouse of sorts. There’s a tub in the backroom. Showers are outside under the porch. The roof is reinforced to act as a cistern… the stove here heats some of the water. Whoever built it knew what they were doing. Hot and cold running tap.”
I lay my hands on the holster of the single shot pistol. My little .22 is leaned against the wall. I still have my .45 and cleaver on. I’m not sure I want to be naked and unarmed around this woman. I drum my fingers lightly over the leather.
Without saying a word or looking in my direction, she begins to undress. She pulls off her sweater and tosses it into a corner. She sniffles from crying and wipes it with her arm. I watch as her bra comes off next. Her breasts hang free, nipples erect. She knows I am watching but never looks my way. As she slides her pants off, she says to the floor, “You might as well get undressed. Unless you’re going to shower with your clothes on.”
“I’m not sure I want to be naked and unarmed around you,” I tell her.
She tosses her pants in the corner on top of her sweater. She has been barefoot since my arrival. She drops her underwear down, off and over in one step. “Well,” she says turning to face me, “I’m unarmed as you can see.”
A nerve in the head of my dick twitches as it starts to grow. Everything in my head says not to do this. Every red flag jumps in warning.
I begin unlacing my boots.
“Of course,” she continues, “I don’t need a gun to kill people, apparently. All I have to do is leave a gate open in this shitty- excuse-for-a-world that we have and then everybody dies.”
She disappears into the back room for a minute. I stop unlacing and reach for my .45. She comes back out holding two towels. She sees the .45 and tosses me one of the towels. “I don’t suppose I can blame you.” She roots through a bucket filled with soaps and shampoos. “You don’t want to get your gun rusty. Bring that big knife thing if it makes you feel better. I don’t give a shit anymore.”
She sits down in the chair opposite of me a
nd picks at a hang nail. I can smell her body mixed with the horrible rose scent of the burning candle. I lay the .45 down and go back to work on my boots. “A hot shower is pretty extravagant these days.” I stand and start to remove my pants.
She looks up from her fingernails. “You don’t seem to be afraid of me.”
“Who said I’m not afraid of you?” I say and toss the cleaver on the table.
“Not very afraid anyway,” she says and goes back to studying her fingernails. “Most men wouldn’t be out here right now. They probably would have killed me by now.”
“Most men,” I say as I drop my drawers, “are dead. Or dead-ish. I, on the other hand, am very alive. Or alive-ish. And I figure I’m gonna die sooner rather than later. So I figure be’n scared of stuff is kind of a waste of time these days.” I slide off my filthy underwear. My erection salutes her in the candlelight. “So if I’m gonna get killed, I might as well get killed by some psycho in mid-coitus as by anyone or anything else.” I pick up my towel and the cleaver. “Ready.”
She looks at the cleaver. “You just said being scared is a waste of time.”
“Well,” I say and smile, “I guess I still believe in safe sex.”
She smiles a twisted half crying smile at me in the light of the flame. It softens her features and makes me forget that I plan on killing her out here away from the others.
“Have it your way,” she says. She takes the candle and lights a lantern before walking out the front door. She has a slight sway in her walk now. It pulls on the invisible leash wrapped tightly around my dick.
The side of the building is tiled with pipes and knobs crudely attached to the wall. A corrugated tin roof provides shelter from the rain. Empty wires run between the rafters; plastic curtains would have hung here. She hangs the lantern from a wire and turns on the water. She tests it with her hand to get the temperature right. Her towel goes over another wire and she stands under the gravity feed shower with her face under the water.
I hang my towel up next to hers and move behind her. I still have the cleaver in my hand. I look around for where to put it. Nothing and nowhere seems right. She pulls her hair out of her pony tail then regroups it back into a bunch and holds it high behind her exposing her neck. I step behind her and place my hand on her shoulder. She remains standing with her back to me and her hair lifted in one hand. My thumb traces the muscles in her shoulder. Her body relaxes slightly and leans back towards me.
I could kill her and then fuck her. It’d be easier that way. But I know what she wants. And I don’t like her enough to give it to her.
I run my hand up her neck and take hold of the wad of hair in her hand. I pull her head backwards. Her feet remain in place. I place my elbow against her back and roughly lean her further backwards. She does not resist. I carefully and slowly bring the cleaver around to her front. The water splashes against her closed eyes. She is completely still. A tiny hint of a smile is on her lips. If she’s crying, I can’t see the tears in the rainwater. I slide the back of the cleaver to her neck. She lifts her chin slightly. Her mouth opens as her breathing quickens.
I press my naked body against her from behind. The water flowing off her body is warm but her flesh is covered in goose pimples. She grinds her ass against me. I twist her head by the ponytail and flip the cleaver over to bring the sharp edge to bear against the soft meat of her neck. Our lips touch and her tongue darts into my mouth. I suck the tip of it before pulling her bottom lip into my mouth.
She turns when I move the cleaver away and I press her into the cold tiles of the shower wall. She brings her legs up and wraps herself around me. I enter her standing, one hand helping hold her next to me, the other still gripping the big blade. We rock slowly in the warm water. I continue to get harder and harder inside her.
She kisses me deeply and reaches down for the hand still holding the cleaver. She pulls it up and puts it back to her throat. She leans forward and kisses me again. I pick up the pace of fucking her and she pulls tighter around my neck, trapping the great flat blade between us. I can feel the orgasm building. It has been so long since I was with a woman that I know I won’t last.
I can feel the trembling muscles in her thighs as she meets my thrusts. My knees shake as the release builds and she seems to be building with me. She leans forward and whispers in my ear, “Do it when I cum.” With that, she puts her head back flat against the wall and begins to tremble.
I place the sharp of the edge of the cleaver hard against her neck and pick up my pace. What a way to go. A luxury to die in the throes; clean, fed and fucked. I place my thumb on the back of the blade and tighten my grip. Her back arches and her mouth falls open completely. The water from the shower fills her mouth and spills out. She rolls her head and lets go with a long, loud moan. A zombie outside the wall answers her.
Her legs tighten around me as her hips rock back and forth.I lower the cleaver and toss it off to the side. It clatters across the concrete floor. I place both hands around her neck and squeeze. Her eyes open in surprise and I kiss her hard on the mouth. As our tongues touch, I explode deep inside her. A scream is stifled in her chest as I have cut off the flow of air. Her body spasms more as I continue to drive into her. She seems to cum again.
I let go and she gasps for air with a giant hoarse rasp. My legs shake and I fight not to drop her. She squeezes my neck and kisses me frantically. I close my eyes and let her. Her hand strokes my matted, wet, greasy hair. Her lips cover my cheeks and eyes and forehead. I open my eyes and look into hers. I feel nothing and she sees it. Where there should be a moment of tenderness sits a callous flat void defined only by the scars that border it.
Her legs unfold off of mine. I smile at her and rub the side of her head. I am still hard inside her. “Got any of that soap?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says in a daze. “On the floor behind you.”
I pull out of her and retrieve a bottle of shampoo. She moves back into the warm water and brings her arms up around herself covering her breasts. I pour a dollop of soap into my hand. “I’m not sure which is more gentlemanly,” I say. “Not sure if I should let you go first or if it would be more polite to get some of the stink off of me.”
She doesn’t answer. The confusion and pain in her eyes searches my face for some sort of explanation. I lather up while she hogs the hot water. I wash quickly and then move into the water, nudging her out of the way.
“Why didn’t you do it?” she asks as I rinse off. The scent of the shampoo is wonderful and clean like I never thought clean could be.
I smile. “Cuz.” Her hands trace the tiny scabs of the shotgun pellet wounds on my shoulder. “We just met each other.” I look down at the bloody and bruised shoulder she’s inspecting. “And I don’t kill on the first date.”
I smile and wink at her. She shakes her head and the tears return. She squeezes my wounded shoulder tightly. “I don’t want to be here,” she sobs and tries to collapse into my chest. I raise an arm to rinse my armpit and move away from her all in one motion.
“There are worse places,” I tell her. “Worse times, worse circumstances. Hell. I’ve had worse sex.” I toss her the shampoo bottle as I head back into the shed.
Back inside, I crawl clean and washed into the makeshift bed. I pull one of Kevin’s joints out of my shirt pocket and light it. Karen comes in after a few minutes and I offer her a drag. She takes it without looking at me and lies down next to me. “I wasn’t for sure whether you smoked or not.”
“Not much point in abstaining,” she says under an exhaled cloud. “You never know when some idiot is going to forget to lock a gate and get everybody killed.”
I take the joint back. “I wouldn’t worry about it. None of us are going to die happy or old.” I take a long drag on the joint and hold it in. I have no idea why. I think it is mostly oregano and foxtail. “How did you meet up with this crew? I get it that Betty and Daisy were strippers and Kevin and Tyler were at the club. You don’t seem like the dance’n type
though.”
“You mean I’m not pretty enough.”
“No,” I exhale a large plume. “They’re too shallow to be as fucked up as you are. Which I guess is saying something.”
She rolls over and puts her head on my shoulder. “I was near the club. I lived downtown. I was going to school at the University.”
“This is where I ask your major, right?”
“Psychology.”
“Of course.” I can’t help but smile. What the fuck else would she be studying?
“It all seems like a bad joke now.” She is completely morose and withdrawing inside herself while reaching out to touch my physical body all at the same time.
“It is all a bad joke now,” I tell her as I put my right arm around her. We say nothing for a while.
“What did you do?” she asks in a very soft voice.
“Killed a woman I was showering with once. Used a cleaver.”
I roll over on top of her. “Fucked her twice and then cut her head off,” I tell her and begin working her legs apart.
She drapes her arms over my shoulders and lets me inside her again. “We might as well get it over with then.” Even the zombies on the other side of the wall have more emotions.
“You’re so romantic.” I smile and lift her legs up onto my shoulders and drive deep until I hit the bottom. She closes her eyes and brings her hands up to her tits. As I pound away, she bites her bottom lip and rolls her head to the side. She’s fucking somebody other than me in her mind. Which is probably just as well.
“I guess if I don’t eventually kill you, you’ll keep trying to kill me. Yeah?”
Her legs slide down and her hands come up around the middle of my back. “I don’t know.” She sounds far away.
“Sure you do,” I tell her and put my hand up around her throat.
Her eyes lock into me as I apply pressure around her throat. I could crush the life right out of her. But there is no life in her.
The rain has stopped and the sporadic sound of gunfire echoes up from down the road. Lightning flashes against the sky as the candle burns low. I am exhausted but there is no point in sleeping. Sleep will come forever soon. I pound into Karen as another orgasm builds. I drop her legs back down. She kisses me and bites my lip hard enough to draw blood. I explode inside her again.
The Zed Files Trilogy (Book 1): The Hanging Tree Page 7