All That I See - 02 (3 page)

"Shore
thang," he said. The
flashlight beam circled my feet.

"I seen your sign up there," he said. "Glad to know y'all ain't bad folks and ever
’
thang."

"How about you?" I said.

"Me? Hell, I ain't never hurt a fly. I go to church and ever
’
thang."

"How long have you been in that house?"

"Would it be awright if we went in? I'd shore feel better if we did."

"We're fine," I said. "The fence will keep them away. You might want to
go ahead and
turn your light out, though."

"You don't trust me," he said, turning out the flashlight.

"I don't know you," I said.

"Well, hell, whatcha wanna know? Ever'body that knows me knows I'm a Christian man and ever'thang."

"Have you been hiding over there for very long? Are you with a group?"

"Me and Helen have been over there a few days. We went in there so we could watch you and your girl and ever'thang. We wanted to be sure 'bout y'all."

"You've been following us?"

"Nah, hell....well, yeah, shit we followed you here but jus' so's we could be sure and ever'thang. I ain't lyin' or nuthin'; we're jus' as harmless as the day is long."

"Who's Helen?" I asked.

"Helen's a lady I picked up on the way. She's hurt her foot and ever'thang, and I'm 'fraid she's got the tetanus. You ain't no doctor are ya?"

"No," I said. "There's a doctor in town, though."

"Well, it'd shore mean the world to me if you'd tell me where, 'cause I'm 'fraid she's got the tetanus and everthang."

I pulled my goggles back down and looked out toward the house.

"Maybe we should go back and get her while most of the infected are away," I said.

"It'd sh
ore mean the world if ya would.”

I went up to the back door and knocked. Sara entered the sunroom/back porch with her goggles down and carrying a shotgun.

"It's okay, Sara," I said.

She opened the door.

"Sara, this is...What's your name?"

"Ever'body calls me Corndog."

"Corndog," Sara said.

"We're going over to get his friend," I said. "Now looks like a good time."

Sara looked out toward the house with the night vision.

"There's still a bunch of them out there," she said. "It doesn't look safe."

"I know," I said, "but she's hurt."

"I
f you're going, then I'm going.”

"I'd rather you--"

"I'm going."

"Then we go right now," I said.

Sara went back in the house.

"Please to have met you," Corndog called out after her.

Sara and I left with Corndog. She and I armed ourselves. Sara took the AR-15 and I took the M4. We each took a handgun as well, holstered.
Corndog asked if he could take a weapon, so we gave him the baseball bat. He seemed harmless enough, but we weren't willing to put a gun in his hands just yet.

It was two blocks in the dark. The night vision made it easier, especially since the zombies couldn't see any better than they could before. The dogs were a concern, but I figured, given the choice, they'd go for the rotten meat before us. I held Corndog's hand and led him to the house so he wouldn't have to turn on his flashlight. It was still drizzling rain, and it was very dark.

Once inside, Corndog locked the door and turned his flashlight on long enough to light an
oil lamp. We lifted our goggles.

"Helen, it's me!" he called out. Then he looked at us and said,
"She's upstairs and ever'thang.”

We followed him up the stairs to a bedroom. The blinds were closed, and there were four candles lit in the room.
Helen was on the bed. She was spread eagle with every wrist and ankle tied to a bed post. She was about a hundred pounds over-weight and completely naked.
She had a tattoo of Betty Boop on
her
leg just above her ankle.
Next to the
bed, her clothes were in a pile
on a chair. It was a uniform from a fastfood restaurant. There was a nametag attached to the shirt that sa
id, "Hello! My name is HELEN.”

She snarled and hissed at us.

Sara gasped and raised her weapon. Corndog grabbed the end of the AR-15 and forced it down.

"Don't you dare hurt her," he said.

"What the hell is this?" I said. "Man, she's sick."

"She's just got the tetanus, that's all. Look at her foot and ever'thang."

Two of the toes on her right foot were a black scabby mess.

"Oh my God," Sara whimpered. "What have you....what...?"

"We need to git her to a doctor," he said.

"Have you been having sex with her?" Sara said, stepping back against the wall.

Corndog went over to Helen and stroked her face.

"It makes her feel better," he said. "Don't it, baby?"

"We're leaving," I said.

"Aw, hell's bells, y'all!" Corndog said. "Hell's fuckin' bells!"

"I'm sorry," I said, "but we don't want any part of this."

"Y'all ain't good people," he said. "They ain't no good, Helen."

Sara went out of the room. I started after her, and Corndog came at me with the bat.

The bat was a blur, I lifted my arm. There was something like a flash of light and then a scream.

I opened my eyes. I was staring at a rug. My head hurt like crazy. I pushed myself up onto my right elbow trying to figure out where I was. I twisted my head up. That hurt. There was a bed with a foot hanging over the side. There was a cord tied around the ankle. The toes—

“Sara?” I said. “Sara!”

I started to push myself up to stand, but this intense pain shot through my left arm. I cried out and fell on my face.

“Sara!”

The foot tensed up and pulled against the restraint. Helen moaned.

I pushed myself up with my right arm and stood. I was dizzy. I touched the left side of my head just above my ear, and my fingers came back bloody. The M4 was in the floor, and the .45 was still in its holster. The goggles were in the floor, too, on the other side of the room.

“Sara!”

I picked up the rifle and goggles then staggered out of the room.

“Sara!”

Why didn’t she answer?

I pulled the goggles down over my eyes and made my way to the stairs. There were nickel-sized dark green spots of blood in the floor coming out of t
he bedroom and down the stairs.

“Sara!”

I got to the top of the stairs and stopped. Down below, it looked like a damned zombie house party. The front door was standing open, and there must have been fifteen of the things bumping into each other in the living room.

Then I saw Sara. She was down behind the couch.  She looked up at me with her goggles,
and
then shook her head to signal me not to say anything more. But it was too late; the creatures already knew I was there. They couldn’t see me in the dark, but they’d heard me, and likely smelled the blood from my head wound. They started up the stairs.

I wasn’t sure what I should do. I could turn the M4 on them and blow them all to hell, but that would attract more. They already knew I was there, so I didn’t see any harm in talking.

“Sara, don’t say anything. I’m going to lead these upstairs. Try to get that front door shut if you can, so no more can come in.”

I backed up and made a lot of noise. They came after me.

“Sara, let me know when you get it shut!”

I backed up to the entrance of the bedroom and waited. Helen kept whining from the bed. The first few zombies reached the top of the stairs. I called out to them so they wouldn’t get lost. I went back into the room and went around so the bed was between me and the door. Helen stared at me. I flipped up the night vision, because the candles were giving off plenty of light. I looked back down at Helen. We made eye contact. She’d been a person once, but that didn’t show up in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I know you don’t understand. I’m just sorry for you.”

She growled.

The creatures entered the room.

“Sara?!” I yelled.

“Got it!” she yelled back.

“Is the door shut?”

“Shut!” she yelled.

I leveled the rifle and let fly. The weapon vibrated in my hands and spent casings rained to the floor as I cut the creatures in half. The pain in my left arm was intense. More things took their place but I sawed them down. I advanced toward the door. We were going to have to get out of the house quickly.

The M4 was hot and empty. I slung it over my shoulder and pulled the .45. I got to the doorway and found the hallway crowded. Head shots
for everybody
. I dropped five and that gave me some breathing room.

I turned back to Helen. I didn’t know her. She might have been a major bitch before or she might have been an angel. Either way, I figured she deserved better than Corndog. I took aim and put a bullet in her head.

When I turned back to the hallway, I could see Sara at the other end standing at the top of the stairs. There
were
four creatures between us. The AR-15 went off and zombie brains sprayed the wall.

“Watch out,” I said. “Don’t shoot me.”

She fired again. I thought it best to wait it out in the bedroom. I heard four more shots and saw the green flashes through the goggles.

“That’s it,” she said.

I ran out into the hallway, stepped over the dead,
and followed Sara down the stairs.

“Quick and quiet,” I said. “That’s what we’ve got to be.”

She didn’t say anything. She got to the bottom of the stairs, put two rounds into a man standing in the dining room, then opened the front door. There was a small group out there standing around like relatives waiting to come in for Christmas dinner. They couldn’t see a thing, and Sara turned them in
to a pile on the stoop before
they even realized the door had been opened. We jumped over them and shot out of the house back toward our place at a full sprint, the night vision giving us the upper hand. 

My head was throbbing with every heartbeat. We practically vaulted over the chain link fence at our house. Once in the yard, Sara turned toward me.

“I shot him and h
e ran out of the house,” she said. “Maybe they got him.”

I groaned.

“Yeah, or maybe he’s in our house.”

CHAPTER 4

Sara said. “He couldn’t have gone very far.”

Then I noticed something else…
.

“You got his bag?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “He left it.”

We searched the property and the house, but we didn’t find him. I was in a lot of pain, and I just wanted to go in and sit. He was probably zombie food by that time, anyway.

We lit some candles and Sara dabbed at my head wound with a wet towel.

“I think your arm took most of it,” she said.

“Yeah, I think the bone might be cracked. It hurts like hell.”

“Well, we’ll get you some of that liquid art and some of the pain meds.”

The pain meds had been Jen’s. Sara was sensitive enough not to mention Jen, but she didn’t need to. I was reminded of Jen every day.

“I’d sure hate to waste that cabernet as a pain-killer,” I said.

“I’m sure we’ll come across some more wine one of these days,” she said. “Tilt your head toward the light; it’s hard to see.”

“You know what I’d like to try?” I said.

“What?”

“Caviar.”

“I’m going to put some of this antibiotic cream on your head now. Don’t jerk away.”

“Have you ever had it?” I asked.

“Caviar? No.”

“We can do that now,” I said. “
We can have rich people stuff.”

“Good luck finding caviar in Kentucky,” she said.

My wound stung and I jerked my head away.

“I told you not to do that,” she said. “I hope you don’t have a concussion”

“You know,” I said, “I’ve always heard about concussions, but I have no idea what it is.”

She stopped and looked down at me.

“I don’t either,” she said with a grin
.

She stepped back and looked at me.

“Want me to make a sling for that arm?” she asked.

“Not right now,” I said. “Maybe it will be better in the morning. What I really need right now is to wind down with a glass of happy juice with a beautiful woman by the fire.”