by C. M. Wright
Ok, not much more I can do, now. Fortunately, these doors are the old, thick wooden ones made back when they knew how to make doors.
I hop over as fast as I can to Jake. When I turn him on to his side, bile rises when I see all the blood on the floor where his head had been. I leave him on his side and scoot on my butt back to the dresser. I open the top drawer and find exactly what I was hoping to find, a long scarf.
I crawl back and wrap his head. What the hell else can I do? Not a clue. Now we are basically stuck. How many damn zombies are out there, anyway? Where the hell were they this whole time we've been here? Why didn't Will and Jake find them when they searched the house? And why didn't they come downstairs long ago when they heard us? And you know they heard us!
Things are just getting too weird.
So I have two men who are out cold, but who are both-at least for now-still alive. I'm in a frikken sheet and nothing else, none of us have shoes on, and I can't walk. Can this get any more perfect?
Crack!
Apparently so!
I watch the door frame in terror as the wood gives under the pressure and the beatings. The dresser, although heavy for me, moves an inch or two away from the door. Frantically, I look around the room and see a couple other doors, but they are flimsy compared to the main bedroom door, and look how long it's taking them to get through that one!
There is a window facing the front of the house, but what good is that going to do me? How could I possibly get both men and myself out? And where would we go after that? We would freeze to death with all of us barely dressed.
I bring my legs up and wrap my arms around them...and I cry. It's hopeless. It's all over. We're going to die.
But before I can really get into the bawling, I get pissed instead. Grabbing Jake under the arms, I scoot a little at a time, bringing his body further from the door and closer to the far wall. I do the same with Will, then desperately try once more to wake him, but he doesn't respond. I put both of our guns in front of me and sit with my back against the wall. And wait.
The door frame is still cracking and tearing away from the wall. I lift my gun and aim it at the door. I don't have long to wait before the door finally breaks free and crashes into the dresser. Several hands grab the door and throw it backwards into the hall.
I count four of them on the other side of the dresser. Knowing I only have a limited amount of bullets, I force myself to wait. I can't afford to waste them.
They push and scream, grunt, and fight each other to get to us first. One end of the dresser is pushed out far enough for one at a time to get through and I pray they leave it that way. The first one comes around the dresser and staggers over to get some of the feast we represent to them.
As it nears, I aim at its head and shoot. It drops several feet away. The second one is right behind and I shoot it down, too.
Damn it, I wish I had counted bullets first!
I take down the third one and the fourth is almost on us before I can aim at him, but I get him. I don't see any more and the relief is overwhelming.
I did it! I saved us! I kept us alive!
My relief is short-lived, however, when I hear heavy footsteps on the wooden stairs. Oh hell no! They can't climb! Please no! God no!
Chapter Forty-Three
Suddenly, a figure is filling the doorway. He's probably about 6' 4" or 6' 5" and around 230-250 pounds with brown hair and eyes. His body size alone frightens the hell out of me. He's a zombie, but he just doesn't look right, and even more, he looks oddly familiar.
Then it hits me. This is the same zombie who saved my life back at Rose's behind the barn.
Saved my life or not, he still scares the hell out of me. What do I do?
"Canada." His voice is deep. Really, really, deep and with a southern accent. I scream when he says my name. Zombies don't talk! What the HELL!
"Do me a favor, don't shoot me. I'm not going to hurt anyone. I'm going to come in now, ok?" he asks.
My mouth falls open and my eyes widen so far they hurt. This is him! This is the one back at the store with the deep southern voice.
So it took me awhile. Bite me.
He pushes the dresser further away from the wall, giving him the room he needs to get through. I raise my gun with trembling hands when he gets past it.
"Don't come any closer! Just stay there," I demand.
He stops and folds his large body to the floor. Sitting cross-legged, he stares at me, apparently waiting for my next orders.
"Who are you and how the hell do you know me?" Those are just the first questions. I have more. Many more.
"My name is Dustin. I know you because I saved your life, remember? And then imagine my surprise and delight when you and your group showed up at my store." He smiles at me and his face cracks and bends where it shouldn't. I'm so mortified by his appearance, I almost forget to respond.
"How did you end up at my si―where I was when you saved my life?"
"I have―had―a brother who lived a few miles past your sister's place. I've met your sister and Kurt. We, you and I, even met once before all this happened."
I try to place the face I see before me with anyone I may have known or met, but I can't do it.
Shaking my head, I say, "I don't know you. I've never seen you before."
"Oh, you have."
I can't believe my eyes as he starts ripping his face off! I scream and point my gun back at his head. He stops and lifts his hands up.
"Stop screaming and put that damn gun down. I told you I'm not going to hurt you."
Slowly, an inch at a time, I lower the gun but keep it in my hand, ready to raise it if I need to.
"Now, just give me a minute. It's not as bad as it seems."
Pulling your frikken face off is as bad as it seems, Mister!
But I don't scream again, although I do whimper in fear. Can't help that. Sorry.
I watch as he peels layers of skin off his face-not because I want to-but because I just can't look away. I eventually understand that those pieces aren't his own and are being held on by some type of glue.
When he removes the last piece, I study his natural face for a few moments, and then the recognition hits me.
"Dustin? I do remember you, vaguely. You came over to Rose's once when my family all got together for Fourth of July a few years ago. You and your brother and his family watched fireworks with us. But why do you have this...this...stuff all over you?"
"I had always planned what I would do if zombies were to actually happen and this is one thing I thought to try. I cut their skin off and put it on myself. I never actually thought it would work, but it does. I guess it's the smell or dead tissue or something. Not really all that sure."
I'm speechless for a few moments.
"Ok, look, Dustin. A lot of people plan out zombie scenarios, me included. But who the hell―who in their right mind!―would think of something like that?"
Dustin laughs, then says, "Right mind or not, it's sure helped a lot of people. You for one," he reminds me.
I shake my head in disbelief.
"Dustin...hell, I don't know what to say. It's just creepy as frikken hell. And disgusting. But how have you managed to keep from getting shot by the living who think you're a zombie?"
"Grace of God, I guess. Usually, I only help those who have no weapons. In your case, I took the chance since I knew you. Fortunately for me, you let me walk away. Why is that, anyway?"
"Well...you saved my life...and didn't attack me. Maybe the shock of that kept me from shooting. I don't really know why I let you go. I'm glad now I did. But why didn't you say something then?"
"I had just found my brother, sister-in-law, and nieces and nephews. When before the kids wanted me to stay for dinner, this time they wanted me to stay and be dinner. I just wasn't in the mood for a reunion."
"I'm sorry," I whisper, ducking my head. He coughs and I raise my head again, and look at him.
"So. Looks like you've got a problem,"
He nods at the other guys. "What happened to them?"
"Will-my husband?" he nods and tells me he remembers him. "He fell down the stairs and has a pretty big goose egg on his head. Jake here...well...I kinda shot him."
Dustin gives a snort and a short bark of laughter.
"Did he deserve it?"
I give him a dirty look for making a joke about it and then drop my head. Looking back up at him through my eyelashes, I say, "Well, not at that particular moment."
Dustin laughs and then moves toward us. I scoot closer to Will, still protective, but Dustin ignores me. I watch as he checks Will's head and then turns Jake and removes the scarf. I start to protest but his confidence and demeanor makes me pause. And then a memory surfaces from when he was first introduced to us...he's a doctor!
I suck in a sharp breath and Dustin quickly turns his head to me, probably wondering what I was freaking out about now.
"Dustin! We have nurses but no doctors in our group, except my nephew, but we don't think he's coming...if he's still alive." I swallow hard, praying he is still alive.
"Please join our group," I beg him.
He looks at me thoughtfully for a moment.
Finally, he says quietly, "I think I might like that."
I give him a big smile and he smiles back at me. Then he continues checking Jake.
"What are you doing here, Dustin? And how did you get here?"
"After you all left, I followed you in my truck. I stayed quite a ways back, but I still figured I'd be seen. I watched as you all went into the grocery store and was about to go help you when that zombie came after you, but the other two guys got to you first. Then I followed you all out of town." He stops and gives a short laugh and shakes his head. "Leave it to me to run out of gas too far out of town to walk back. So I kept walking in the direction you three went. Eventually, I saw a house and made my way to it, surprised to see zombies surrounding the house and your truck sitting outside. I walked in, up the stairs, and you know what happened after that."
"Damn. I bet you're freezing and tired by now."
"Naw, I'm good." Typical man-gotta be a badass.
Dustin finishes looking at Jake's head and sits back on the floor.
"Well, I have good news and bad. Good news is, they will both be ok. Bad news, they are both going to have one hell of a headache. You only took a good few layers of skin off this one's head. Head wounds bleed like a bitch, but he's ok."
My body sags with relief. Dustin manages to get Will woke up and helps him to a sitting position. Will holds his head and moans in obvious pain. After a few minutes of getting some sense back, he looks up at me and then notices Dustin and his body stiffens. Will pushes me behind him and I fall over to one side, catching myself with my arm on the floor-unprepared for the sudden forced movement.
"Will! He's ok. We know him." I pull on his shirt as I try to get back up. Once I do, I catch him up.
He looks hard at Dustin and then apologizes and shakes Dustin's hand once he figures out he does know him.
Dustin turns back to Jake and wakes him, too. How the hell does he do that?
Jake sits up slowly and asks what happened.
Sheepishly, I tell him that I accidentally shot him. Will bursts out laughing, but quickly ends it and looks away when I give him a dirty look. Jake just stares at me in shock.
"Seriously? You shot me? What the hell, Canada!"
"It was an accident! I was trying to keep you from becoming the main course for a zombie but your dumb ass stuck your head up just as I fired," I pause for a few seconds. "It's really your fault, you know."
Jake stares at me with bugged-out eyes. He slowly shakes his head and gingerly feels the line of missing skin on his skull. Dustin informs him he'll be ok but the headache will suck. Jake grunts, still giving me a funny look, and asks about Dustin. So we have to explain who Dustin is all over again for Jake's benefit.
"Ok. So how the hell do we get out of here?" I ask them.
Everyone but Dustin shrugs. I look at Dustin, who gives me a wide grin.
"I'll be right back," He tells us.
He pulls out a tube of glue and winks at me. Picking up all the pieces of zombie skin he had removed, he reattaches them. I gag. Can't help it! And then he walks out of the room without a further word.
The guys and I look at each other, all of us wondering what Dustin plans to do.
"I'm not putting zombie flesh on myself. If that's his plan, he can damn well forget it!" I declare without a trace of uncertainty.
The guys nod in agreement.
Chapter Forty-Four
Ten or fifteen minutes later, Dustin comes back in the room.
"I would try to kill them all, but there are way too many, so I moved your vehicle close to the porch. We're going to have to go out the window, but be very careful. The porch is high enough they can reach you if you get in their range."
We stare at him.
"Um, there's at least one problem with that plan, Dustin." I look at my useless foot. "I can't walk and I damn sure can't jump!"
Dustin finally notices my foot wrapped in the pillow. How he missed it, I don't know!
He comes over and drops to one knee in front of me. I want so badly to move away from his disgusting appearance but force myself to stay still-although I do start breathing through my mouth. He lifts up my leg to remove the pillow-and in doing so-raises the sheet too, showing off what I'm trying to keep hidden.
Will swings his head to find Jake getting an eyeful. I'm desperately doing my best to get enough extra sheet to push down between my legs but it's all under my butt.
"Put her fucking leg down!" Will snaps at Dustin.
That, of course, causes Dustin to look down to see just exactly what he's exposed. He drops my foot in surprise and it bangs on the floor. Dustin hadn't yet taken the pillow off but it still hurts like hell. I scream and give him a cussing he's probably never had before.
Embarrassed, he apologizes to both Will and me, and then helps me adjust the sheet so that I'll be completely covered. I glare at Jake, who's wearing an amused look on his face.
Dustin removes the pillow and examines my foot. He tells me it needs an x-ray and if it's broke, it will have to be put in a cast.
"We need to get to a hospital so I can get it done. The hospital I worked at isn't too bad. Most all the zombies on the bottom floor have gone on to search for food. If we block the doors to the stairs and the outside, we should be alright, since everything I need is on that floor. Sound good?"
"Sounds great, " I say. "If I could leave this house, I would be more than happy to go to the hospital. Unfortunately, we still have that little detail to work out."
Dustin thinks for a moment then says, "Well, we can't hand you down or use a sheet because that will put you too close to the zombies. Let me think."
The men are quiet as they think of a way to get me down to the truck. I look around the room, waiting.
Oh, hell yeah! My brilliant mind saves the day once more!
"Hey guys? What about the door?"
They look at me in confusion and I sigh. Do I have to be the only one who thinks outside the box?
"If we slope the door-which is thick and should be strong enough to hold me-to the roof of the truck, I can slide down."
Dustin says, "I can't believe I didn't think of that myself." I can.
Jake says, "I was just thinking about that." Frikken bet you were!
Will just wraps his arms around me and pulls me back to his chest.
He lays a kiss on my head and says, "Brilliant idea, Baby." And that is just one reason I love this man!
So the guys bust out the window and its frame, and then take the door to the porch roof. Jake drops down onto the roof of the truck and guides the door into position. When they're ready, Will and Dustin help me out the window and to the edge of the roof. I'm shocked at all the hands I see reaching around the door. Ok, if I stay in the middle as much as I can, I should be alright. But they're maki
ng the door shake and move!
What if they tip it over? What if my fat ass doesn't leave me room on that door to stay out of their reach?
I look up at Will, who's standing next to me, holding my right arm. I have fear written all over my face and I know it.
Apparently, Dustin thinks of the possibility of them tipping me over, as well, because he tells me he will put his weight on the top of the door and Jake will do the same at the bottom. He repeats this to Jake and Jake nods, getting into position.
Dustin also gets in position, sitting on the end of the door, and Will helps me over to him. Dustin helps me climb in between his legs, and when I look down, that jackass Jake is looking straight up my sheet...again-and grinning at me. I throw a glance at Will, but his attention is on the zombies, not Jake. I pull the sheet down and tuck it around my legs like a pair of shorts and Jake gives me an exaggerated look of disappointment. I roll my eyes and mouth "Stop it." He just grins bigger. What a freakin' asshole!
The zombies distract me from Jake as my heart jumps into my throat. I start down the door, terror increasing with each slide of my butt. I'm close to where the hands can reach and I freeze. My body starts shaking in fear. I look down at Jake, who's waiting for me, and he reaches out his hand for me, encouraging me to keep going. I suck in a deep breath and slide a little further.
The hands are all so close, but one hand is too close. It grabs hold of my sheet and even though I struggle to pull it from him, he's too strong. He starts to pull me to the side using the sheet and in a desperate attempt to survive, I undo the sheet and let him have it. I slide as fast as I can and finally get within Jake's reach. He grabs me by my wrists and pulls me up. Then he lifts me up in his arms and holds me tight.
I hear Will growl, his Leo side coming out. Jake ignores him-and my own protests-and carries me to the opening of the hatch. He places me on the roof, then jumps down inside the truck. When he holds his arms up to me, I scoot over and dangle my legs in the hole-my only thought is of me being naked and wanting the clothes from inside to cover me. Careful of the hatch opening ripping into my butt, I ease inside and slide right into Jake's arms.