Read Tyran's Thirst (Blood Lust) Online
Authors: Erika Lindsen
I pointed to the ground. A zombie was lying down, choking
and thrashing as part of its head was cut. Tyran took my weapon
and finished the job. He handed me back my ax, which I holstered,
and we sped down 61 towards Monroeville.
The trees lining the road used to be beautiful. So tall and
thick with leaves. The wind would gently blow them, making a
pretty sound that would relax anyone on a stressful day. Now they
were bare, broken and the bark was peeling. I sighed, devastated.
We passed a Lutheran church. I shuddered. The last time I
was in a church was when Pastor Pierce and his followers saved
me after the accident. Then they were slaughtered because of their
own stupid beliefs. The sanctuary in front of me didn’t fare any
better. Blood stained the sidewalk leading to it. Bones, or what was
left of them, trailed the pathway. I closed my eyes and placed my
forehead to Tyran’s back.
I couldn’t take seeing what I knew had happened.
As we veered onto Route 20, Tyran had to swerve to miss a
semi-truck flipped over. The trailer, doubles, was covering the
road. We drove into the median and into the left lane. My grip
tightened around his waist. So much death. Continuing farther, we
passed one of my favorite places, the drive-in. Many Saturday
nights were spent watching the latest movies. One time I watched
Twister
there and kept checking to make sure life wasn’t imitating
art.
Several farm houses passed by, but I decided to watch the
wind blow Tyran’s hair back. I couldn’t look at the life I knew
destroyed. Knowing it was one thing. Seeing it was much, much
worse.
The village of Monroeville. Home of the Eagles and one of
the best ice cream parlors. Passing through the city limits, we
drove slowly, watching for any signs of life. Nothing. The police
station had cars plowed into the side. A few zombies lay outside,
bugs crawling all over them. It appeared that something big had
gotten to them too. Big enough to rip arms and legs from their
bodies. The only way I knew how to kill a zombie was by
destroying the brain. These guys’ heads were intact, yet they were
not moving.
As we circled a bend, Tyran slammed on the brakes. A
woman stood in front of us, waving her arms and yelling for help. I
hopped off the scooter and ran up to her. She was dirty, smelled of
sweat and wore torn clothing.
Once inside the Marathon, it looked as it did the morning
before all hell broke loose. Cans of food were perfectly stocked on
the shelves. The coolers were filled with sodas and water.
Cigarettes were behind the counter, along with a man. He must
have been in the forties with brown hair shaved down to almost
nothing. A rifle lay on the counter in front of him.
“Nice to see a face for once.” Sherri had
grey hair hanging
over her shoulders. Her wrinkles were deep cuts along the bones of
her face, but her body was strong and muscular, like that of a
thirty-year-old. Strong muscles lined her arms, a thick torso and
girthy hands showed meshe must work out every day. I couldn’t
blame her.
I smiled at her. “You sure have a setup here.”
I removed my holster, but held onto the ax. Making sure
the man at the counter wasn’t watching, I unlaced my corset and
pulled down my pants. With a twirl I proved I was clean.
She backed away from him, reaching for her gun. With one
shot, she hit him in the mouth. Blood poured from him as he
cursed. I ran to him, trying to see how much damage was done.
Turning back to scream at Sherri, she pushed me on the floor.
Tyran hissed as he bared his fangs. Sherri shot him. The bullet
skimmed past his ear, causing more blood to flow from him.
I picked up a can of beans and threw it at Sherri. It hit her
in the back. She stumbled forward and shot Tyran in the stomach.
He fell to his knees. Trying to reach out to him, my hand stretched
to touch his. He went limp.
Sherri pulled the trigger, the barrel aimed at his head. The
hole it left behind was gaping. Tyran would heal, but he would be
weak for some time. She really did a number on him. I pulled my
knife from its holster and ran to Sherri, pushing the blade against
her throat.
Suddenly I couldn’t
breathe as a white sack was pulled over
my face. I was being dragged; my feet were fighting to stand their
ground. A hand pushed against my back and I fell to my knees.
When I heard nothing but the sound of my ears ringing, I yanked
the cloth off of me. I was in a pitch black room that smelled of
curled milk.
**
The door opened and a switch flicked on. The light was
blinding. I tried to open my eyes but it felt as if the sun was blaring
down on me. Suddenly my face was wet. Jumping up, the world
was spinning around me. My hands found my eyes and I rubbed
them to clear the haze and water off of my face.
It clicked off. Sherri was leaning over me, cloth in hand,
dabbing at the front of my face. Yanking the towel from her, I
examined it. Blood. Mine. Then I felt the stinging of my nose. It
didn’t feel broken, but the strength of the sack over my head had
definitely bruised it.
She found a side pack and pulled out a massive white
bottle. Two pills landed in my hands. Sherri handed me water.
After taking the meds, I stretched my body which felt as if a
baseball bat had been taken to it. Sherri helped me stand up and I
used a shelf to balance my weight until the dizziness went away.
“The vampire.”
“You know his name? Listen, Dear. We don’t mind helping
you but we do not allow vamps in our home. We’ve worked too
hard for it to come crashing down.”
I found my ax and put it to her neck. Her eyes watered.
“Now listen, bitch. I don’t need your shit. Where the fuck is
Tyran?”
I
looked down at Sherri’s still body. Stupid bitch. “Sherri is
taking a nap. So you have Tyr-I mean the vampire tied to the
fence?”
I clicked off and gazed outside. Our scooter was still at the
door. Running out, I jumped on it and turned back east, heading
the quarter mile to the football field.
The field was nearby. So were the furies. I stopped my
scooter at a funny shaped octagon house. Bats circled the area. My
nerves turned into electricity firing through my body. But I had to
do it.
Crawling through some brush,
I knew it wouldn’t be long
before the scavengers found me. In one hand I had my ax. In the
other I had the rifle of Mark’s he left at the station. It had a much
better firing range and would do more damage. With an inhale, I
knew I had to go in guns blazing to save Tyran.
The run into the field was short. Somehow managing to
keep my gaze on the furies, I found Tyran chained by the fencing
securing the field. He was fighting to get away.
Reaching him, I peered over his bindings. His wrists were
bloody, the skin peeling from them. His body was sweaty. Every
vein was protruding.
Scanning the grass, I couldn’t find any rocks or
sticks that
could be used to break the locks. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I
heard chirping above me.
Checking again, in the clouds I could make out three furies.
Even though they flew high, I couldn’t get over how big they
looked.
Don’t pay attention to them.
I cocked the rifle and fired
one shot into the lock of Tyran’s left hand. It was free. I, however,
wasn’t. The bats stayed in place, gazing down at me.
One swooped down in a dive-bomb fashion. Hitting the
ground, I tossed the rifle to Tyran. Ax in hand, I swung as the
monster came for round two. As it approached, I dug the blade into
its wings. An ear-piercing screech shook the earth as it fell to the
ground. Another shot rang and Tyran was free, picking me up.
I turned back to get a glimpse of the creature. It was a man,
or used to be, with medium length red hair and a thatch of curls
spread over his chest. He was nude, but didn’t have a dick. My
brows creased as it lifted its wings, one cut, and revealed black
veins and thumbs wiggling on the ends. Shivers ran over me as I
high-tailed it out of there.
As Tyran and I reached the gate, another fury landed in
front of us. Tyran pulled his cutting knife and threw it at the beast.
It connected with its eye, but the monster merely shook the blade
free.
As fast as I could, I ran at the beast and chopped my ax into
its chest. Its head was swung back. Yanking the weapon from it, I
tried to do more damage but the creature snapped at me, biting
chunks of my hair. Its teeth tangled around my locks and pulled me
closer to it.
Someone get this thing a Mentos.
I gagged as its breath
poured over me. Looking into its eyes, I pushed the edge of my ax
into its neck. Red ooze dribbled and I knew I hit the mark. Cutting
with all I had, I chopped until its head rolled to the side. Just for
good measure I included the wings.
When I turned back I saw Tyran shooting at the injured
fury. He cocked his rifle and put two in its neck. The beast
continued to walk towards us. Bloody ax in hand, I swung it and
removed its head.
Above us was one last fury. I found my scooter and hopped
on. Tyran straddled it and we took off. I could hear a noise that
sounded as if a tarp was blowing in the wind behind us. With a
check in my rearview mirror, I saw the fury closing in on us. As it
tried to snap, I jerked the scooter to the right and into the parking
lot of the gas station. Tyran and I jumped off and ran inside.
Sherri started to yell, “Vampire! Vampire inside!”
I grabbed her by the shirt and drug her behind me. She
kicked me away and threw a can at my head. Lucky for me she had
terrible aim and I was hit in the chest.
The fury broke through the glass front, splinting shards
with its wings. I ducked, Tyran covering my body. When all
became silent I looked back. The fury, this one a female with long
black hair and saggy boobs, was inching our way. Mark lay on the
floor, blood gushing from his body. My guess was the glass got
him. Sherri scrambled, but was sliding in Mark’s fluids.