Pock.
That sound again. He had no idea what it was and didn’t intend to investigate just yet. He rested his back against the wall and looked at the nightstand. There was a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. He grabbed the candy and unwrapped it. He ate the entire thing in almost one bite. It hardly scratched the surface of the hunger he didn’t know he had. He grabbed the bottle of water, feeling his tongue swell with thirst. He downed more than half of the bottle, knowing it would be better to sip than guzzle, but didn’t care. A piece of paper was stuck to the bottom of the bottle and he pulled it off, looking at the writing on it.
I’m sorry. We didn’t have any other choice. - Kyle
Fantastic. He could only imagine what that meant with how fuzzy his memory was, but he didn’t think it was anything good. He bounced off the bed, trying to steady himself on his feet and hobbled out of the room. His leg no longer bled and his back didn’t feel like it was wet. But his shirt was torn in the back, and he removed it completely, looking at it. It was stained with dark red. He was lucky, and he knew it. The amount of blood that was on the shirt looked like it belonged to a homicide victim, which is what he almost had become.
The house was empty. In the living room, there were no bodies, neither Liam nor his mom. The blood stains still remained on the floor as evidence he hadn’t hallucinated everything. He finished off the water bottle and went to David’s room.
The room was a mess. Most of the things had been thrown on the bed and floor, making it seem as if someone had tossed the room looking for something. He grabbed a white T-shirt off the ground and pulled it over his head. It was a little bigger than he normally wore, but it would do. He saw most of the drawers were empty and walked to the kitchen.
Every drawer and cupboard was open and cleared out. This was definitely not good. At least Kyle had left him a candy bar to eat. Woo. He opened the fridge and saw that the power was off. The sunlight was lighting up the room from the windows. By the way the fridge didn’t feel very cold, it made him wonder how long he had been out for. Was it just the next morning, or had it been longer?
There was nothing in this house for him. He needed to get to his wife, and every second more he lost was a second more that something could happen to her. He went outside, covering his eyes. His pupils weren’t used to the direct sunlight, and it took some time to adjust. He felt his way forward to the driveway and finally began to see clearly. The car was gone.
The fucking car was gone.
“Motherfucker!” Paxton screamed. The driveway was completely empty. Jerry’s car, that he had more or less borrowed, was nowhere to be seen. David had left him here to die. He must have seen his injuries and didn’t think waiting was the best option for him and his son. Still, it didn’t make what he did right. They could have left Paxton the vehicle. Didn’t they have their own?
Paxton ran, as well as he could, back inside and into the garage. It all made sense now. The jeep that sat in the garage was up on blocks. The hood was open, and it looked like half an engine was where a full engine should be. Parts were all over the ground among rags covered in grease. Paxton had zero experience with fixing any sort of vehicle and definitely wouldn’t be able to put this thing together.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Paxton said to himself.
Back outside, Paxton looked up and down the street. There were still cars littering the sides of the street, however, many of them were gone. People must have been alive before and taken off, he thought. He began to head down the road, deciding that a home with a car in the driveway might have someone still alive inside.
Five homes down, he saw the first house with a car in the driveway. He didn’t give a shit what kind of car it was, just that there was one. He knocked on the door and waited. He pounded harder when nothing happened. Again, nothing happened. Maybe he should try going in, if it’s unlocked. Just as he turned the handle, a loud thud sounded from the window next to the door. Paxton looked and saw the face. It was an older woman who was soulless. She had scratches across her face and snarled as Paxton met eyes with her. She pounded on the window hard. Even if Paxton thought he could take her on, he had no idea what else was in the house or if the keys would be inside. He definitely wasn’t ready for any fight with anything or anyone in his condition.
Paxton tried house after house with similar outcomes. Finally, he had made his way over one block and found a house with a small red car parked in front of it. He knocked on the door, nearing hopelessness for his plan to even work. Nothing happened, and he knocked again. He turned around after another round of silence. He had to come up with another plan. Maybe if he walked, he could make it to some place that had a car, or maybe-
The door opened. He spun around, excitement creeping up on him paired with a nervous feeling. The soulless couldn’t open doors, right? He was quickly answered when he saw the black pistol pointed at his face. Paxton put his hands up to show he was no threat.
“H-hey. I’m just looking for help. I got hurt and separated from my wife, see, and—”
“Shut up,” the man said from behind the gun.
Paxton looked around the gun and saw the short man. He had a beard that was beginning to grey. His eyes were bloodshot and looked like he hadn’t slept in a while. Paxton stood in silence, hoping he wasn’t going to be shot. The man looked him up and down, then put the gun down.
Paxton let out a loud exhale. “Thank you.”
“Sorry about that, bud,” the man said, his tone lightening. “Just right now, nobody can be sure about anything, ya know?”
Paxton nodded. “Yeah, so like I was saying—”
“You got separated from your wife and you’re injured.” The man stepped aside and motioned for him to go inside the house. “You’d better come in, maybe get something to drink or eat, and we can help you out.”
Paxton smiled. Finally, his prayers were being answered through this man. He was grateful he hadn’t given up earlier. “I’ve had a run of bad luck lately.”
The door closed behind him, and the man locked it. “It seems like most of it is going to be bad luck these days. I’m George.” George tucked his gun in his pants and stuck his hand out.
“Paxton,” Paxton grabbed his hand and shook it as firmly as he could given his weak condition.
“Paxton, why don’t you come inside, get comfortable.” He looked at Paxton’s leg and whistled. “Damn, that is one nasty gash you got there. Did you stitch it up yourself?”
Paxton looked at his leg. In the light, it looked worse than it felt now. It reminded him of a piece of meat that was trussed up before cooking. Dried blood surrounded the wound only slightly. “No. Someone else did for me. You said, we can help you?”
“Me and my family. They’re all sleeping now, which is why I’m up with the gun. Gotta keep watch while they get rest. They’ll do the same for me when it’s time.”
Paxton nodded. This man was lucky. He had his family with him. That’s probably why he remained here. “Thanks for letting me in.”
“Don’t mention it. You like coffee?”
“Absolutely. But isn’t the power—”
“It’s instant. But still tastes like the real thing.” He handed Paxton a warm mug full of the brown liquid.
Paxton inhaled the aroma from his mug. It smelled great. At this point, Paxton probably wouldn’t have cared what was in the cup he held. He just wanted something to give him a perk. He downed the cup with a loud gasp. “Delicious.”
George smiled. “Glad you like it. You’re welcome to whatever you want.”
“That’s generous. I was hoping you could tell me where exactly I am.” Paxton thought about how to get home and realized he didn’t take the time to figure out where Kyle had driven.
“Where you are? Well, that’s kind of a general question.”
“I came from the Grace Redemption Church. I honestly don’t even know where I am now and how to get home.”
“Where are you headed now?”
�
��Val Vista and—”
“Quite the commute you have,” George interrupted. “You’re definitely too far on foot. You’re in San Tan Valley.”
He was afraid of that. Of course, it made sense. That’s where the church was, so Kyle probably lived close. But he didn’t live that close. He had to drive between cities to get to his job. It had never been a problem before, but he was without a truck. And more than likely calling a taxi or an Uber wouldn’t be in the realm of possibilities right now.
“I was kind of hoping I could get some help then. My wife is at home, and I was at work when everything, whatever the hell this is, happened. I know it’s asking a lot, but I need to get to her.” Paxton couldn’t remember the last time he had begged anyone for help. He imagined himself on the street with an empty hat and a pathetic look on his face.
“No offense, Paxton, but what makes you think she’s still alive?”
Paxton looked at George. He definitely hadn’t meant any harm with the question, but his words pierced through Paxton. What if she wasn’t alive? What if she was one of them, the soulless? What if she was alive, but then was attacked by them? There were so many what ifs, but something inside him told him he was right. He knew she was alive. “I just know it, George. There’s something inside me telling me she’s alive.”
“I respect that, Paxton. I can tell you’re a good man.” George grabbed a breakfast bar and began to eat it. He tossed one to Paxton. “It’s something I’ll have to run by the woman, But I’ll get you to your wife.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll repay you however I can.”
George held up his hand and shook his head. “Not necessary. I’m sure you’d do the same for me if I were in your shoes. Love thy neighbor, right?”
Paxton smiled at his words. “Right.” He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes but kept them at bay.
“Let me go check to see if they’re up, and I’ll be out in a minute.” George walked down the hallway to what Paxton assumed was the master bedroom.
Paxton opened the breakfast bar and greedily sunk his teeth into it. How long before eating the chocolate bar had he eaten anything? It felt like days, although the only experience he had with not eating for days was a twenty-four hour fast he took part in. He stood up and walked to the kitchen, feeling the need for some water. He grabbed a bottle off the counter and began to sip it.
He could hear George down the hall, speaking to someone. He couldn’t make out the voices, but it sounded innocent enough. Paxton was glad there was going to be no pushback on helping him. He looked at the pictures on the wall of George’s family. There were two little girls, George and his wife in most of the pictures. As he passed down the hallway, he watched the kids get older in the pictures, along with George and his wife. They looked like a great, loving family.
The pictures ended at a room, aging the kids to about twelve years old. Paxton could hear George further down the hallway in a different room, still talking. Paxton wasn’t trying to be nosy, but the open door at the room he stood before was open slightly. He loved kids, having none of his own. He saw the pink wall and stepped to the doorway. He saw all the dolls on a shelf that lined the entire room. Whichever girl lived in here seemed to like to collect princess dolls.
Paxton looked at each of them and them down the wall. That’s when it caught his attention. The red streak down the wall. It didn’t belong and was so large. He stepped in, then felt the sinking in the carpet. He looked down and saw the mess of blood he stepped in. It was still wet. There was a large trail of blood that went from the wall, down to the carpet, and in a large streak toward the bed. His eyes settled on the body that laid there.
She was pretty. Her blonde hair had covered half of her face, and the covers were pulled up to her chin. Paxton stepped farther in and could see a large pool of blood on the other side of the bed. There was no life in her eyes, and she didn’t move. The right side of her head was mostly gone.
Paxton backed out of the room carefully. It wasn’t the best place to be right now. He needed to get out of the house. Just as he began to spin around, George appeared at the end of the hallway by the master bedroom.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Jackie. That’s her name.”
Paxton stood, watching George’s every move, but not wanting to make any sudden movements of his own. “What happened to Jackie, George?”
“Nothing. She is sleeping.”
“Where’s your wife? Your other daughter?” Paxton already knew the answer, but he felt himself ask anyway, as if the answer would be less horrendous than what he already knew.
“I told you. They’re all sleeping,” George said, staring through Paxton. The man scratched himself on the face with his hand. When he did so, Paxton noticed the blood on his fingertips. It left a smear on his face where he scratched.
“I’m gonna go outside for some fresh air, George,” Paxton said, backing down the hall, not letting his eyes leave George.
George didn’t say anything as Paxton began to move, but he stepped forward. As George followed him toward the living room, Paxton could see the gun in George’s other hand. It was next to his side, just dangling. There was no threatening with it, but Paxton didn’t want to stick around to find out if there would be.
Paxton made it to the living room and started to step toward the door. “Okay, then, I’ll be right back in.”
George cleared his throat. “Step away from the door, Paxton.”
Paxton didn’t listen. He slowed down a little bit, but he had no intention of stopping. “I’m just going outside for a minute, George. It’s fine. It’ll give your family a chance to sleep a little longer,” Paxton said, hoping to feed into the fantasy, but hating himself for alluding to the dead family as sleeping.
George lifted the gun and shot the door. It was a foot away from Paxton, but it was enough to make him freeze. “You and I both know damn well that my family isn’t just sleeping.”
Shit. The man wasn’t insane, or at least not in the sense he was hoping. The one where he could be easily manipulated and get away alive and never see him again. Nope. He was insane, but possibly with a moment of clarity. “What’s going on, George?”
George’s face went red. It was so fast Paxton was confused what was happening at first. “What’s happening? As if I’m the man to know that!” George screamed.
“It’s okay, George. Let’s just take a breath and maybe sit down and talk.” Paxton decided had to keep using his name, maybe try and keep him grounded by treating him like himself.
“No, it’s not okay! My family is dead. What’s okay about that? You think it’s okay to be in the basement, up late working on some bullshit work assignment that I can’t even remember anything, only to come upstairs and find that your family is gone? That something happened and they aren’t themselves anymore?”
Paxton eyed the door. If he was fast enough, he might be able to open it and dive outside before George could get another shot off. Did he want to bet his life on might?
George fired the gun again, this time a little closer to Paxton. It shoved all plans of diving out the door, well, out the door. “Don’t fucking do it. Let’s do what you said. Let’s sit.”
“Sure, George.” Paxton moved to the couch, watching George move to the large armchair in the corner. He had no intention of sitting down, at least until George did. Even then, he had to think fast.
“I understand, it’s a lot to take in. I’m sorry you had to see them like that,” George said, pointing the gun at Paxton. He eased down on the arm chair and motioned with the gun for Paxton to sit.
Paxton crouched, nearing a sit on the couch. The only thing running through his mind was if my ass hits this couch, I’m dead. He had no plan going forward, but immediately jumped behind the couch and crouched down.
The gun went off, exploding the cushions on the couch in a blaze of feathers and polyester. “Dammit Paxton. You’re only prolonging the inevitable.”
Paxton quickly looked aro
und, hoping to find anything that would help him. He grabbed the television remote that was on the ground next to him. He quickly stood and chucked the heavy plastic at George, nailing him in the face. Even on his best day, Paxton never could have thought he was going to have that kind of accuracy. Thankfully, a bit of luck went a long way sometimes.
George grabbed his nose, now exploded in blood, and fired the gun, missing Paxton by a few inches. He was too preoccupied with the blood running from his face to be able to shoot well.
Paxton made it to the door and swung it open. Bullets hit the wall next to him, and Paxton made it out of the door, feeling the air outside. It was an immediate relief from the stuffy air he was sharing with the dead inside. His feet hit the concrete and he ran, glancing back once.
George stood in the doorway, pointing the gun at Paxton, shouting. “Don’t you get it? Your wife is dead! They all are! We all are! I was trying to help you. You could have been with her!” George stopped pointing the gun at Paxton and put the gun under his own chin.
Paxton kept running and looked away. Normally, he would have been shocked. He would have run to the man, tried to talk him down. Sure, he had tried to kill him, but the man was not in his right mind. Paxton was supposed to help people, but here he was, running. He heard the gun go off, echoing down the street. Then the thud of what he imagined George’s body hitting the ground.
Paxton kept running, not looking back again.
15
Cole pulled the car up to a single building near the edge of town. It was dark from all the lights being off, but Daniel could see the sign on the building. It read LAUNDROMAT. From the condition it was in, Daniel wondered if the sign would even light up if the power was still on. The headlights behind the car slowed down and pulled up next to them. Courtney and Jennifer hadn’t been far when they passed by them. They were easy to signal down to get them to follow behind. They had been driving a while, and everyone in the car looked tired. Eden was passed out, leaning against Daniel. He didn’t mind much. She was quiet and kept to herself mostly. That’s how he liked other people.
Soulless Wanderers: Soulless Wanderers Book 1 Page 11
