Scavengers: July (5 page)

Ira sighed, looking him straight in the eyes. “There was a ladder to the roof somewhere here on the blueprint,” he began thoughtfully. He must had been in such situations numerous times before to keep this kind of calm, “Was it in this room or the one with no door?” he asked, showing the no-longer-secret door with his pipe.

James breathed heavily, trying to control his nervousness, but each violent sound ruined his composure. “It is this window actually” he said, moving to open it. Surprisingly, the glass was still intact. Ira shoved him aside, kneeling on the windowpane and looking outside, where the metal ladder was. Back in the day, it was used by chimney-sweepers, but now it could serve a much more important purpose. Ira leaned over, grabbing it and pulling vigorously, probably to test if the ladder was still reliable and solid enough to support a grown man. He turned to look at James. “You go first. I'll catch ya case somethin’ 'appens,” he promised, his dark eyes very serious.

“Do you want me to go towards the barn?” James asked, slowly stepping out onto the ledge of the window. His legs felt weak as he looked down, registering both the height and the more dreadful consequence of a potential fall: the hungry undead. The barn was where his father hid a massive part of his mother's jewelry. It was the best they could think of in the havoc of everyone running for their lives.

“Just wait for me in a safe spot,” answered Ira hurriedly, grabbing his wrist for support, “Don't fall.”

James nodded and went for it. For a split second, he was sure the ladder would fall and bring him to his death. As nothing like this happened, he composed himself and started climbing up the ladder, trying not to look down at the zombies, heading for the building. The only good thing was the weather: sunny and warm, as if it were a regular, lovely summer in the countryside. Fortunately, there were metal rungs for climbing to the top of the triangular roof. He sighed, feeling at least a portion of his fears diminishing as he looked around at the thick forests and lake he used to swim in as a little boy. In front of him, about 70 feet away he saw the roof of the stables.

He looked down to make sure Ira was following him. He just hoped the topic of the drawings would never come up again. He felt a surge of relief at the sight of the other man climbing over the edge of the roof in swift movements.

“Go towards the stable” he commanded, quickly reaching the top of the roof and straddling it for support. James’ creamy shirt was creased and dirty and he knew he looked tired, but he still managed a gentle smile at Ira. He could feel they were closer to reaching their goal. Even if the zombies entered the building now, it would be for the better as they were heading for the barn and stable buildings anyway. Carefully, he moved along the rooftop, trying not to injure his hands or rip the pants on the metal sheets that covered the surface. Finally, he reached the edge and stopped, swallowing slightly.

“Don’t move,” Ira warned him and moved to put both of his legs on one side. Without a word, he lowered himself along the descending surface and slowly reached one leg over to a chimney. It was frightening to watch, but he managed to safely squat on the flat place beneath it. The man sighed, looking up at James with a sly smile. “Weird feeling, that ‘ard bulge between ya thighs, eh?”

James’ lips parted as he didn’t know what to say for a moment, but he didn’t move either, just sitting there on the top of the roof looking downwards. He wasn’t sure if he could be as dexterous as Ira. “It’s not funny,” he muttered in the end, flatly.

“Did I say it was?” asked the other man fishing a thick rope out of the harness he wore. He encircled the chimney three times before starting to form a knot. “Why, would you prefer something else?”

James simply stared at him, not knowing if he should feel offended or... what was Ira implying actually? “No, the rooftop is fine...” he said in the end, knowing it was stupid by the time he finished saying it.

Ira’s face lit up in an amused smile and he shook his head. “You still need to let it go,” he said, sitting on the edge of the flat place around the chimney, and placing his feet on the descending plates between him and James. “Now slide down. I’ll catch you.”

James took a deep breath, feeling strange goosebumps, but hearing the growling noises from the windows helped him make up his mind. He did exactly as Ira told him, hoping for the best. The other man spread his muscled arms broadly and leaned forward, following his every move with dark eyes. James grabbed at his hands desperately as soon as he was close enough to do so. He felt a pair of strong arms over his ribcage, securing him in place. Ira looked straight into his eyes, now exceptionally close, their legs touching. A wave of heat flew through James’ body.

“Thank you,” he muttered finally, not moving an inch. He felt embarrassed by the improper thoughts that filled his mind when he was so close to the former sailor. The man sighed, stroking one of his arms lightly.

“When you were researchin' those perverted pages,” he murmured, leaning even closer to James, “did it ever make you wonder ‘ow it would feel?” His voice sounded as calm and gentle as the soft afternoon sun James felt on his cheek.

“No!” he said instantly, though didn’t move away. This man was really something else. “I mean... I can see why you would be mocking my choice of study.”

“That’ no mocking,” Ira protested immediately, “Just think it weird that you watch all these chaps stuffing their cocks up other chaps’ holes and you never even kissed one,” he said, his gaze never faltering.

“I don’t think you should worry about those things... ‘chaps’ cocks and that...” James laughed, a bit nervously. The zombies in the building behind them had suddenly become less important.

“I’m not worried! I am interested!” laughed Ira, running his thick fingers along the other man’s thighs. “And you forgot ‘holes’,” he added attentively.

James swallowed, looking down at the man's hands, in shock. He had no idea where this was going. He had some knowledge from research and stories of men's sexual activities. Apparently some men didn’t really care whose ‘hole’ they used, as long as they didn’t get caught. Others were curious, so maybe that was the case with Ira, who started making titillating remarks since he found out he might be dealing with a homosexual. James didn't really know how he felt about this idea, but he would be lying to himself if he pretended it didn't excite him. Even though the thought entertained him for a while, James knew he couldn't just give into a temptation like this. After all, he had a wife, a son, a 'proper' life. Looking never hurt anyone, but acting on those urges?

“‘Holes,” was the only thing he muttered after a long silence.

Ira licked his lips slowly, lowering his gaze to James’ mouth. His breath felt hot on the other man’s cheek. “I like it more when you say ‘cock’.”

“You do...?” James’ breath became sharp and fast, but he couldn’t force himself to look up.

“Yea,” breathed Ira, slowly tracing the other man’s Adam’s apple with rough fingertips, “I go crazy when boys that pretty say ‘cock,” he breathed a bit shakily.

James finally lifted his gaze, shivering from Ira’s tone of voice. “You like hearing about that?” he whispered, feeling that his face must be as red as a poppy. “About cock?”

It was still only words. Just a bit of banter never hurt anyone, even though James felt his heart pounding like crazy. The whole situation felt surreal. They were sort of sitting by a chimney, in the middle of a zombie infested area and... flirting? Was that the right term for something as obscene? He never heard women other than harlots 'flirt' like that.

“I like hearing about my cock in a hot, tight hole,” Ira breathed, pressing his thumb to the other man’s lips. His eyelids were slightly lowered, giving a sensuous quality to his rugged look.

James needed to pull away a bit, though it wasn’t easy in the position they were in. He felt his own body getting hotter from hearing the other man’s words and didn’t want him to see that. Especially since the touching was getting a bit too intense for his sense of morality. “And I presume you hear about that a lot?” he whispered.

Ira smiled broadly, touching his ear in a delicate manner. “None of them boys ever complained when I talked to them,” he murmured in a way that suggested that he did not really mean a proper conversation.

James’ imagination was on fire when his mind drowned him in thought of Ira with other men in all those possible positions. But in all honesty, the sole idea of Ira naked was enough to cause a stir in his groin. “I think we should be going,” he said, more and more embarrassed. Smiling, Ira leaned over and James froze as he felt a warm, moist tongue tracing his lips.

“I guess we should,” he said, straightening his back.

James’ eyes shot up instantly. He didn’t say a word, but a tremor went through him and he was so nervous that once again he had to grab Ira’s arms to prevent himself from falling.

“Easy,” the man said, helping him to stand on the flat surface around the chimney. James knew the other man could see his erection, which was now uncomfortably pushing at the front of his trousers. He still couldn’t decide whether he was being merely teased or propositioned. He wasn’t sure which one he preferred either.

“Do you want to go first, or should I lead?” he asked, trying to ignore the problem.

“Nah, I go,” said Ira, immediately taking hold of the rope and looking down, as if nothing had happened. After shooting the aristocrat another sly glance, the man gracefully slid down the edge and then onto the courtyard.

James waited till he disappeared from his vision and tried to think about all the horrible things they had experienced that day, to fight his erection. After a while, there was a repeated tug at the rope, which James interpreted as a sign to come down. He wasn’t as proficient with the rope as his companion, but he managed to get down into the courtyard without much damage. There were no zombies in immediate sight, but they had to cross an open lawn and growls were still to be heard. Much to James’ relief, Ira kept his hands to himself, looking as professional as before their weird conversation on the rooftop. He nodded at the brown stable building, moving towards it.

The aristocrat didn’t say a word and followed him with a saber in his hand, ready to defend them both from any attacks. When James heard Ira curse, he knew it was a bad sign. Looking around, he spotted a group of zombies more or less 60 feet away. They both ran as quickly as possible to get away from the open space. Fortunately, they weren’t discovered.

Once inside the stable, James immediately sensed that this was not the place he once knew. The sight was horrifying: there were horse skeletons in some of the open stalls and massive rats running here and there, seemingly alarmed by the unexpected presence of something living. The smell wasn’t pleasant either: a mix of rotten wood and mildew.

“So where’s that treasure?” Ira went straight to the point, looking around the large building. For a stable it was pretty solid, elegant, with wooden arches beneath a high ceiling and white walls. On each of the stall doors, there was a decorative panel with a horse’s name on it. Some of the devices used for grooming were still there, untouched, so were a few saddles on a wall nearby.

James took a deep breath and started walking towards the back of the building. “We have to get to the attic. It’s hidden in one of the walls there,” he said, looking towards an empty space where his brother's favorite horse used to be kept.

“'Ow do we do that?” asked Ira, when James turned to show him, he caught a slight movement from the corner of his eye.

“There is a ladder in the blacksmiths, at the back...” he said slowly, lifting his saber and walking towards what he had seen before. He figured it was better to get rid of any zombies sooner than later, even though he'd tensed up once again.

“Which way?” asked Ira from behind a wooden barricade. As James went behind the corner he suddenly came face to face with a familiar shape. Dressed in a decomposing riding outfit was his brother, William. His heart sunk and even though the zombie moved forward, ready to attack just like all the others, James was too stunned to react. All he could mutter was a weak whimper. When Will reached out, he practically raised his hand for a handshake, despite his brother’s blank stare and the fact that almost half of his cheek was rotten, which proved that he was not the same person James knew. He felt a sharp pain, as the undead’s long fingernails bore through the skin of his jaw, scratching down to James’ neck.

“No!” he screamed, as if woken up from a dream and took a step back, but fell over something on the floor. Instantly, he tried stabbing his undead brother with the saber, but only managed to cut off his hand. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud, but Will didn’t even react to the loss of the limb. A shiver crept up James’ spine at the sight of his hungry mouth. Just as he lifted the saber for another try, Ira ripped the creature off him and brutally rammed a dagger into its head, immobilizing the zombie in an instant. The man shifted his gaze to him, breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly helping James back on his feet. “You’re hurt!”

“Oh God! He scratched me! He fucking scratched me!” It was slowly sinking in and James’ thoughts started running wild with panic, but he was also gripped by a strange pang of despair as his gaze swept over his brother’s corpse. They shared so many memories and to have seen him in this ungodly state was just too much!

“Fuck... fuck!” Ira cursed in a low voice, grabbing him by the arms. He swallowed, clenching his jaw for a moment.