Rory shrugged his shoulders. “It’s my fault. I should’ve just let him tell the damn story.”
“Holy shit!” Clutch yelled in the distance. “There’s something in here!” He went under with a violent splash. Ashley and Kate screamed, backing away from where he vanished.
A light breeze pushed the fire’s wispy smoke Rory’s direction. He squinted as it floated through him like a ghost “He doesn’t seem like your type.”
“He’s not.”
He turned to her and regretted how fast he had swung his head around. “No?”
She swallowed a long drink of red wine and hesitated before saying more. “He’s pretty much a complete idiot.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
She laughed lightly and grew serious. “In fact, this camping trip was pretty much the last straw.” She turned to him in the flickering light. “I told myself that if he does anything…” She trailed off and dropped her gaze to the glass in her hands.
Rory swallowed dryly and returned his attention to the lake. He tipped his beer can back and stole a glance of Ashley.
“He can go and show his little wiener to everyone in town for all I care.”
Rory snorted and spit beer out his nose. “Wow! That is really some crass language.”
She met his glazed over eyes and tried on a smile that didn’t fit. “The only reason I went out with him in the first place was because I hadn’t know him since the third grade.”
Rory twisted uncomfortably in his seat and rolled his neck, making it pop. Yet another reason she should have come with him to Charleston and it pissed him off. If she hadn’t been such a chicken-shit, she wouldn’t have had that problem. He shook the thought off, refusing to go down that dark road again. He had slogged that muddy path a thousand times after moving into his new apartment in Charleston when he should have been out enjoying his new digs. How many times had he turned down dinner or drinks with people at work during those first few months? Too many.
Rachel stared at him for a moment and turned back to the lake. He was about to change the subject when Clutch exploded to the surface.
“Good Lord! Something’s got me!” he bellowed into the night, his arms flailing wildly.
Kate and Ashley screamed and high-stepped through the water to take cover behind Woody, who was more than happy to provide protection by wrapping his long arms around their slick bodies.
“Yeah, not a lot to choose from around here,” Rachel said dully.
Her statement hit the same nerve, now strung tighter than a tightrope inside a peppermint-colored circus tent. Charleston had been a whole new world.
“Then why’d you stay?” He regretted the question as soon as it slipped from his lips. It didn’t matter now. After all, he had failed in Charleston and ended up right back where he started. Plus, he already knew the answer.
She turned in the chair to face him and smacked her lips. “Do you really want to go over this right now?”
He took a mighty chug off his beer and swallowed with a grimace. “Nope.”
She nodded and swung her glassy blue eyes to the skittering flames.
“I already know you were scared to leave this place.”
Clutch’s booming laughter pounded the night. Woody yelled something about a sea snake and the girls squealed again.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “I was not scared!”
He arched an eyebrow at her.
“Well, of course I was scared,” she said curtly. “Knowing that I couldn’t see my family anytime I wanted to would’ve made me feel like I was suffocating.”
“That’s just being homesick, but it goes away after awhile,” he replied. “For the most part.”
“I know,” she surrendered, taking a deep breath and releasing it. “I just wasn’t ready and…I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Obviously, things didn’t end up working out so hot anyway.”
“Oh yeah, like things worked out so great here,” she laughed. “I’ve finally landed the perfect barista job!”
The cynicism dripping from her words made him chuckle. He turned back to the fire and let his eyes space out on the dwindling flames while the others laughed and splashed in the background, filling another round of silence that fell like rain.
“I’m sorry they cut your column,” she said in a hushed tone.
He kept his blank stare fixed on the burning logs. The pity in her tone made him fidget. “Something better will come along,” he said, sounding about as confident as an accountant diagnosing a heart problem.
“I know it will.” She placed her hand on his, sending a shockwave rippling through his arm. “You’re so smart and talented. Your reviews always made me laugh and they were always so right on.”
He turned in his chair to look at her. “You read my reviews?”
She squeezed his hand. “Of course I did. I read them online.”
Rory grunted and turned back to the fire, letting his eyes blur with the wavering heat. “I should’ve kept in better touch.” He cringed, wondering why he had just said that. He didn’t really mean it.
She smiled warmly, her face a bright orange in the fire’s glow. Her mouth opened for a moment before she decided to close it and drop her gaze to the glass in her hands.
Rory nonchalantly pulled his hand from hers. “So how are things at the coffee shop?”
“I hate it,” she said flatly, taking his hand again. “I just want you to know that…I’ve always regretted not going with you.” She paused. “Not being with you.”
He met her gaze and tried not to show any emotion.
“And,” she continued. “I’m glad you’re back.” She squeezed his hand and smiled that smile he could fall down into and get lost inside forever.
He squeezed back. “Me too.”
She paused before continuing. “And I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with Diane.”
“Danielle.”
She laughed lightly. “Danielle. I’m sorry.”
He responded with nothing more than a soft nod, his gaze firmly fixed to the dying campfire. His plans to bring Danielle to Minot to meet his family and friends this coming August slipped through his mind. At the time (last month), she had been so excited about the trip and they had discussed the different places he had wanted to show her. The Pointe of View Winery in Burlington, the Roosevelt Park Zoo, the Riverwalk, the childhood home where his dad had buried his St. Bernard, named Wendy, beneath an old maple tree in the backyard. But mostly, he wanted to take Danielle wherever Rachel was going to be so he could rub his newfound flame in her face. A combination of guilt and humility wormed through him. “We should probably go find some more wood,” he finally said.
She bent over and gently plucked a small stick from her flip-flops. Rory tried to stop his eyes from diving down her gaping neckline but quickly found himself nestled between two lacey, red handfuls of soft bosom. When she came back up, he forced his eyes back to the flickering fire.
“So…how long had you two been seeing each other?”
His eyes jerked back to hers. He shrugged. “Eight months, something like that.”
She nodded slowly and turned to the fire. “Did she find out about your gay porn habit or something?”
His face wrinkled and she broke into laughter, gently resting a reassuring hand on his knee.
“How dare you say something like that,” he said curtly. “You know it was midget porn.”
Her laugh recharged, mingling with the distant howls from their friends, and then faded into the lake’s night song. Rory stirred in the canvas chair and drank from his can. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand, letting his eyes stray from focus in the fire’s light. Gentle pops spit orange bursts upward with the rising smoke. “No, I guess she saw the writing on the wall and got out while the gettin was good.” A faint grin crept across one side of his face. “Can’t says I blame her,” he said with the voice of an elderly redneck, the grin finally reachi
ng the other side of his face.
She turned to him with an orange frown. “Wait a minute, was this before or after you lost your job?”
He snorted. “Two weeks after.”
She inhaled sharply and covered her plunging neckline with one hand. “Oh my God, that is horrible! Who does something like that?”
“Well, it’s like Tracy Lawrence always says, when the well runs dry, you find out who your friends are…”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed in the unsteady light. “Who?”
“Turns out she wasn’t a big fan of frozen pizzas, which is the direction my budget had taken.”
“Wow, you sure know how to pick em,” she groaned, swirling the last sips around in the wine glass.
He turned to meet her warm smile and started chuckling. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Suddenly, Woody came running out of the water, dripping wet and covering his privates with both hands. “This is so epic! I think I might actually have a shot with Kate tonight,” he said, grinning from ear to ear and dancing from foot to foot. “But I’m so nervous I have to take a giant poop.”
Rachel held up a hand, her face twisting. “Ewe! Way too much info.”
“What should I do?” he asked, anxiously surveying the campsite.
“Grab some TP and go find a bush,” Rory suggested.
Woody’s brow wrinkled. “A bush?”
“Or you can hoof it back to the porta-potty in the parking lot.”
Woody turned to the darkened woods, actually considering the half mile trek for a moment. “Shit!” he said, resigning to hop over to the picnic table and snatch up a loose roll of toilet paper.
Rachel and Rory laughed as he disappeared into the trees.
“Watch out for Jason!” Rory yelled after him.
Rachel scrunched her face up. “That is so gross! How can he do that in the woods like that? I could barely go number one out there. Thought for sure I was going to get poison ivy all over my butt.”
“You want me to check and make sure you didn’t.”
She tilted her head and tried not to smile as Ashley started screaming bloody murder. Their eyes flicked over to the lake just in time to see Ashley plunge beneath the surface with a hefty splash. Clutch and Kate stood off to the side laughing, their wet bodies glistening as they watched the spot where the pretty blonde had disappeared.
“See what he started,” Rachel murmured.
In a moonlit flash, a dark figure popped out of the water and grabbed Kate from behind, wrapping her up in an aggressive bear hug. Rory was impressed with Ashley’s ability to swim under water and get behind Kate that quickly. Kate’s scream died on her lips when the silhouette pulled her underwater.
Clutch released a high-pitched shriek more suited for a young girl encountering a hairy spider in the bathroom. He dove in and swam for shore, his arms paddling like hell through the water until he beached himself in the shallows. He stumbled to his feet and began sprinting with a look of terror blanketing his face. His tiny wiener smacked against his stomach like a paddle-ball with each galloping step he took as shiny beads of water flew through the air around him. “Jesus Christ!” he screamed, hitting the sandy shore and picking up speed.
Rory bolted upright in the lawn chair, his eyes thinning when a man wearing a dark-colored suit sprang from the shallows and started running after Clutch. The man grunted and snarled as he closed the gap with a frightening pace. A deep wrinkle carved through Rory’s sinking face. “What the…”
Rachel’s wine glass slipped through her fingers and clattered to the dirt without breaking. “Oh my God,” she said faintly, watching the man tackle Clutch from behind. An audible oomph escaped Clutch’s lips when they hit the sand. The man jumped to his dress shoes and began dragging the DJ back towards the water. Clutch screamed and kicked, desperate to free his ankle from the raggedy man’s one-handed grip.
“Help me!” he cried, turning onto his stomach and feverishly clawing at the sand, his eyes popping out of their sockets. “Rory!”
Rory jumped up, knocking his chair to the ground where it folded as quickly as Rory’s face. Clutch sent one last yelp into the night before the water found his gasping mouth. Rory dropped the beer can, his heart jack hammering inside his chest as the man and Clutch submerged beneath the water’s silvery surface.
Rachel sprang to her feet. “Mark!”
A dead silence answered her scream. Even the crickets and frogs seemed shocked into a grave hush. Rory swallowed dryly, his wide eyes jerking back and forth across the water, waiting for Clutch, Kate and Ashley to pop up and start laughing again. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Rachel, unable to move, their chests rising and falling in unison as they watched the dark water begin to calm. They waited without words, their brains reeling to grasp the impossible. The fire popped loudly, making them jump. Slowly, they turned to each other, their eyes as wide as Clutch’s had been.
“What the fuck was that?” Rory asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Rachel blinked her panic-filled eyes and took his arm.
He shrugged her off and pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it to the ground. “Call the police.”
“Rory, no!”
He sprinted to the water’s edge, stopped and surveyed the quiet lake with fuzzy eyes, his blood pumping thickly in his temples. Small waves gently lapped over his blue Nikes while a light breeze tickled his brown hair. He waited for a sign of life while his mind raced a million miles an hour in the dubious peace and quiet.
“Our phones are in the cars!” Rachel cried out behind him.
His heart sank with the reminder. He hesitated for a moment before undoing the belt on his army green cargo shorts. His eyes scoured the water, trying to find the right spot to dive in as a young boy began slowly emerging from the water’s shimmering surface. Rory stopped loosening his belt and watched the boy’s shoulders clear the water. Dark hair draped straight down over his pasty forehead, dripping water into hollow eyes aimed right at Rory. The moonlight made the boy’s cracked skin (what was left of it) glow like a floating ghost. His black suit and yellow tie hugged his bony body as he steadily shuffled closer, moaning in pain with each sluggish step he took. Rory backpedalled without even realizing he was moving and quickly buckled his belt. The boy grinned at him, revealing broken teeth with sharpened points. His arms lethargically stretched out to Rory like he just needed a hug. And judging by the decay gripping the boy’s face and hands, he did. He couldn’t have been older than seven or eight but looked like he had been under water for over a decade.
An elderly woman in a black dress shot from the water a few yards behind him. Her ear piercing shriek made Rory flinch. Without hesitation, she began running his direction at an alarming rate of speed, especially for someone so decrepit. Rachel read Rory’s mind and screamed, snapping him from his trance.
He turned and bolted for the campfire, glancing over his shoulder just long enough to see the old lady blaze past the young boy in a flash. Her left eye was missing and there was no way he could outrun her, but he tried just the same. Even in the fire’s orange light, Rachel’s face looked colorless when he snatched her arm.
“Come on!” he said, yanking her towards the woods.
“What the hell is that?” she screamed, trying not to stumble.
“Just keep moving!” His breath outran him as he sinuously navigated the campsite’s jumping shadows, expecting the senior citizen to tackle one of them from behind at any second. His feet surprised him with an agility he didn’t think was possible. It felt like he was flying over the beaten down land as they entered the darkened woods.
The trail was narrow and overgrown. He didn’t see most of the branches until they had already scratched his face and arms. Everything brushed past in a stinging blur. He used one hand to ward off the snagging branches and his other to pull Rachel. They ran and jumped and tripped their way through the winding trail, somehow managing not to fall. Rory felt a thorn bush tear a lengthy gash in his right t
high, the pain all but annulled by his racing adrenaline. Despite the protest from the thorn bushes and twisting vines, they kept running, tearing through the woods with reckless abandon. A black silhouette popped out from behind a thick oak tree. Rory slammed on the brakes but it was too late. He collided with the figure, knocking the shadow to the ground while Rachel crashed into his backside and screamed.
Chapter Six
“What the fuck, man!”
“Woody!” Rory gasped.
“What is your problem, dude?” he moaned, sitting up next to an unwinding roll of toilet paper and rubbing the back of his head.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Rory panted, glancing behind them for the first time since fleeing the campsite. It was dark and quiet. Moonbeams cut through bare spots in the canopy of trees above, leaving ominous blotches of pitch black with God knows what lurking inside.
Floodwater Zombies Page 6
