'Til Death Do Us Part (5 page)

“
When?
”
Mary looked up.

BT couldn
’
t tell if she was wondering when they
’
d be out of her house or how long
she had
for her and her son to
get
ready to go.

Gary had understood the meaning behind her question.
“
Mary
,
you can
’
t stay here,
”
he
said
,
finally turnin
g back around to face the group. T
he room darkened as the curtain slid back into place.

“
Oh yes we can!
”
s
he said
with vehemence as she pulled
Josh closer.
“
We
’
re never going out there.
”

“
You know you
’
re going to run out of supplies,
”
h
e said calmly, which belied his true countenance.

“
We
’
re better off without them,
”
Mrs. Deneaux said.
“
The boy will just slow us down.
”

“
As opposed to you?
”
Gary shot back, very much unlike anything that usually came from his mouth.

Mrs. Deneaux shrugged her shoulders and lit up a cigarette in response.

“
How dare you!
”
Mary said to Mrs. Deneaux.
“
I opened my doors to you, I fed you
,
I confided in you
,
then you turn on me?
”

“
I was trying to help
, dearie. Y
ou said you
didn
’
t want to go and
I though
t this would help your argument,
”
Mrs. Deneaux said
, smiling with her tobacco-stained teeth showing.
The smile
was much too
wide and displayed too many teeth to mean anything
but contempt.

“
Handle a snake
,
you
’
re bound to ge
t bitten eventually,
”
BT said to Mary.

“
You must be happy now
, BT,
”
Mrs. Deneaux said.

“
What are you talking about?
”
h
e asked her.

“
Well
,
it looks like you
’
re in charge now. W
ith Mike out of the way
,
you
take rightful control,
”
s
he said
,
then took a long pull from her cigarette
while
waiting for BT
’
s response.

BT almost rose to the bait, but he could see the grim glimmer of smugness right under the surface in the woman
’
s face and he
’
d be damned if he gave her anything remotely similar to a smile.

“
Well the ag
e is right,
”
h
e said.

“
What?
”
Gary asked.

Mrs. Deneaux
’
s eyes narrowed as she waited for his response.

“
She could be Eliza
’
s mother,
”
BT said as he went to the side of the house to see how many zombies Josh had brought back with him.

Josh snorted.
“
That
’
s funny because that would make her like
five hundred and fifty
years old.
”

“
I remember when spanking your children was a
n acceptable form of punishment,
”
Mrs. Deneaux said
,
turning towards the boy, who shrunk back into the protective embrace of his mother.

“
We
’
re leaving in t
he morning,
”
BT said
,
coming back into the living room.
“
Mary
,
I won
’
t force you
,
but I really think you should reconsider.
”

“
Michael
would have been more persuasive,
”
Mrs. Deneaux said.

“
You done?
”
BT asked her.

“
For now,
”
s
he said taking another drag off her smoke.

“
Mary, please,
”
Gary begged.
“
You
’
re not safe here.
”

She scoffed at his words.
“
Oh yeah,
I see how
safe
it is out there,
”
s
he said
mockingly,
not even willing to move her hand to point
,
but rather nodding with her chin towards the front door.

M
ike
J
ournal
E
ntry
1

There was not a place on my body
that was not screaming in agony. I
f I dared to look
,
I would imagine I had
third-degree burns over three-
quarters of my body. I smelled like barbeque
;
it was both
disgusting and somewhat saliva-
inducing at the same time. Where my head had bounced off the pavement a blackened mixture of burnt skin and wet blood slicked the roadway. My neck crinkled like dried old parchment paper as I picked my head up.

My arms were blistering, t
he surface looking like a dry lake be
d
with viscous puss running through the crevices. That did not smell nearly as tasty as
the flap of meat on the ground.
My
blue jea
ns had mostly melted to my body and
karma had come full circle. How many times had I given people shit for wearing their clothes so tight
from
trying to hold in some excess baggage that they looke
d like they had painted them on?
This was like that. If I was so inclined (which I wasn
’
t)
to pull the denim material off of me
,
it would have easily taken all of the skin and most likely a fair portion of muscle mass.

I screamed as I tried to stand, I nearly teetered over not willing to place my burnt palms on the ground and lose anymore of me. The sky darkened as I made it
to an almost standing position.
My
skin was too dried and burnt to allow for full
extension
,
I was hunched over like a man three time
s my age—
which would have been REAL fucking old. I was fighting desperately to hold onto consciousness
,
but it was flickering like a basement light in a horror movie.
My mind was urging me off th
e street. M
y body didn
’
t give a shit.

“
Maybe I
could just take a little break,
”
I said out loud.
Or maybe I thought it. I don
’
t know
,
but it sounded like a grand idea.
“
Move!
”
I urged my charred limbs. Something creaked, groaned
,
and snapped, I sounded like a new macabre cereal advertisement.
Get your new Meatie-O
’
s fortified with all the
vitamins a growing zombie needs
,
I sneered as I thought it. It was funny and it gave me the briefest of seconds away from the agony that permeated my entire being.

I shuffled, the melding of my jeans to my skin making any movement difficult. Tears were st
reaming down my face in earnest;
I would have bellowed in pain if I had been able to catch my breath, it was that intense. I imagined being placed in an
iron m
aiden would have been bliss compared to what I was feeling.
Still
, I moved;
the torment of pain seemingly the only thing spurring me on.
It was t
hirty feet to the closest house. I
t might as well have been the surface of the moon.

But now I heard nois
e…and not the good kind. A
rat
the size of a lapdog loped past.
It
stopped for the briefest of moments
,
whiskers twitching as it smelled my cooked countenance, but even a
warm
meal wasn
’
t enough to entice him to stay. It turned to look over its shoulder and bounded off.

I could think of only one thing t
hat would send a rat on its way:
zombies.

Would they bother me? Did I have enough strength to turn them away? I barely had enough
strength to think the thoughts, so
I kept my ambling shuffle in motion
. The house now seemed thirty-
five feet away. And no
,
I
have no idea how that happened;
I
’
m not a quantum physicist for fuck
’
s sake.

  It was countless heartbeats of pain later and I had h
alved the distance to the house.
I was now a good fifty feet away. I could hear the moans of the undead, they sounded far off
,
but there had to be a lot of them for me to be hearing them this clearly. Instead of the movement causing my burns to limber up
,
the opposite seemed to be happening. The puss that was oozing from a dozen different places was beginning to congeal
which made
my previous shuffle feel like a world class sp
rint. In reality I had
another ten feet to the steps—
which in
and of
themselves were going to be a near insurmountable endeavor. I didn
’
t think I was going to make it.

The moaning didn
’
t sound any closer, but it wasn
’
t moving away.
I imagined a column of zombies was moving horizontal to my location. I did a silent
‘
thank you
’
to the Big Guy and
suddenly had a feeling he heard. I was a little awestruck to think that
I might have a direct pipeline.
I wonder if this was what Moses felt?

I
stubbed my toe against the step. A
t some point I had my eyes shut
,
trying in vain to block out the blistering nerve endings as they pounded relentlessly. I couldn
’
t even begin to wonder how I was going to get my leg the eight inches up to get onto the first step. I looked at that front door like I was a Japanese tourist who had left his camera behi
nd and the door was the Eighth Wonder of the W
orld. (Is that a stretch? It seemed to work when I thought about it, seems a little different on paper.)