Horror Within : 8 Book Boxed Set
Page 128
She opened the door and trained the weapon on the top of the stairs.
Another step and then nothing. “Hello?” a female voice called up. “Are you home?”
“Bitch.” Darlene went to the stairs and looked down. Kayla was coming up the steps holding a picnic basket. Her white T-shirt was tight across her bra-less chest and tied under it, revealing her taut stomach and pierced bellybutton.
“I’m just bringing you a housewarming present.”
“A picnic basket?” Darlene asked, trying not to stare as Kayla came up and stood next to her. I’m not a fucking lesbian, but she is sexy. Darlene wanted to slap the thought from her head.
“No, me, silly.” Kayla laughed. “This is just for after, when we’re hungry.”
“I’ve already explained myself.” Darlene couldn’t help the edge in her voice. Kayla might be beautiful but she was also so damn arrogant.
“I’m just teasing. I brought a bottle of wine, some fresh cheese and crackers. Peter went into St. Augustine yesterday and I asked him to pick me up a few things.”
“That is kind,” Darlene said. “Won’t you come in?”
The house was a mess. Griff had decided after Darlene and John came back and told of the run-in with Azrael that she needed her own place to relax for a couple of days before deciding what she wanted to do. She knew what she wanted to do: stay for a few months, gather supplies, weapons and information, and then head back north to home. For now, this would be her home.
Most of the furniture was very expensive and very gaudy. The woman of the house – the owners were a middle-aged couple of obvious wealth – had made it very feminine, with gold trim, seraph ornaments, light colored rooms and muted amber hues on the upholstery. There were doilies and covers on almost everything. The family had owned horses, and there were statues, plaques and photos adorning every room in the house save for the back room.
The back room was the man’s cave, filled with football memorabilia, a sixty-inch plasma television, surround sound, and a vast pornography collection. Darlene had wasted no time in rummaging through the DVD’s in hope of finding something to get her off, but it was exclusively lesbian videos, and most of them of the group variety.
“It looks like the Soprano’s threw up in here,” Kayla blurted.
Darlene couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, they were definitely from New York or New Jersey. The guy has a room full of New York Jets crap. Want any of it?”
“Any baseball bats? We could always use weapons.” Kayla set the basket on the kitchen table as she moved through the rooms. “It could use some work, but nothing a garbage can couldn’t solve. I see they liked horses.”
“You could say that. I keep expecting to open up an extra bedroom and finding a zombie horse or something.”
“That would be fun. I’m sure we’ll be happy here together,” Kayla said.
“No fucking –“
“Wow, are you easy to rile up. I’m just busting your chops. Relax. I promise to not make you uncomfortable, as long as you stop staring at my tits. Is that fair?”
Darlene blushed and looked away. “No idea what you’re talking about, but not a problem.” Darlene went back into the kitchen and began unloading the basket.
Kayla came in and opened the cabinet, procuring two wine glasses. “These are probably worth a grand a piece.” She sat down at the table.
“Worthless now.” Darlene put the cheese and crackers onto a tray.
“Not really. Trust me, there’s always someone who wants what they haven’t got. Most of this junk here could be brought to the city and traded for perishables. There’s a market for just about anything.”
“The only thing I need short-term is new clothes. A nice, comfortable pair of jeans, some sneakers that fit, a pack of socks, a bra that doesn’t make my girls bounce when I run from zombies, and some panties.”
“You strike me as a g-string kinda gal,” Kayla said and grinned.
Darlene couldn’t help but smile. “You said you’d play nice.”
“You haven’t stopped looking at them yet.” Kayla sat up in her chair. “Say the word and this shirt comes off.”
“Pour the wine.” Darlene went to the drawer and got a knife for the cheese. “And I prefer thongs.”
‘I prefer nothing. It’s easier to bury your face that way.”
“You’re sick.” Darlene cut the cheese into squares and placed them on a plate, fixing the crackers in a nice pattern. “Lunch is served.”
Kayla sipped at the wine and ignored the food.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Darlene asked around a mouthful of cheese and crackers.
“I ate before I came over. This is for you.” Kayla tapped on a wine bottle. “I’m going to do a liquid lunch today. Won’t you join me?”
‘I think I might,” Darlene said with a laugh. She raised her glass. “A toast.”
Kayla lifted hers. “A toast to what?”
“Life.”
“And still being alive.” Kayla tapped her glass against Darlene’s and finished hers in one gulp. She quickly refilled her glass.
“You’ll get drunk that way.”
“That’s the idea.” Kayla pointed at Darlene’s glass. “Keep up.”
“I don’t think so.” Darlene put a hunk of cheese into her mouth.
“Suit yourself.” Kayla sipped her wine and sat back. “Let’s talk about nothing of consequence for a bit.” She glanced out the window. “It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?”
“It’s another sunny, hot day. I never thought I’d pray for rain, but it would be great to break the days apart.” Darlene finished her glass and smiled when Kayla poured her another one. “This is my last one.”
Three glasses later the bottle was empty and they’d retired to the living room, stretched out on the couch. Darlene was feeling great, giddy and light-headed. She tried to stand but fell down onto Kayla with a laugh. “I need to pee,” she slurred.
“I think you need to relax first.” Kayla helped her sit up next to her. “Close your eyes.”
Darlene’s eyes grew wide. Even in her drunken stupor she had some senses working. “I don’t want this.”
“Want what?” Kayla said and stroked Darlene’s face with her fingers, tracing her chin. “I would never do anything that you didn’t want.”
Darlene closed her eyes and relaxed. The wine was making her feel good and free. For the first time in forever she didn’t worry about being bitten or being raped or being ripped apart. She only felt… horny, if she were being honest with herself. Would it be so bad to make love to Kayla? She was beautiful. You could do a lot worse than her, Darlene thought. Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t even dream of this, but there was nothing normal about anything.
Darlene leaned forward and puckered her lips.
Kayla held her close and Darlene could feel her breath in her ear. “I would love nothing more than to have you, to taste every part of you, to make you cum.” Kayla kissed her softly on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Darlene opened her eyes confused. “You’re leaving?”
“Trust me, it’s for the better.”
“I don’t think so.”
Kayla put a hand on Darlene’s arm and let it linger. “I do. Go get some food into your system.”
As Kayla left Darlene went to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose. I’ll get some more drink into me, thank you very much.
Fifteen
Darlene woke up to the sound of pouring rain. Her head felt like someone had run it over and she swore that she would never drink wine again. Her stomach lurched as she struggled out of the bed, eye on the bathroom door. ‘Please let me make it,” she whispered.
She didn’t. She crumbled in the doorway of the bathroom and spewed her stomach contents on the floor. Closing her eyes, she swore that she’d never drink another drop of alcohol.
The rain stopped midmorning, jarring a stiff Darlene from the floor. Her head still hurt a
nd her sides felt like she’d been kicked in the ribs. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. The smell of the floor and her clothes made her gag.
Getting to the couch took her twenty minutes, her limbs refusing to work for her. She was so exhausted by the time she hit the cushions that she closed her eyes and fell back asleep.
A knock at the door jarred her awake, a stabbing pain in her forehead. “Go away,” she tried to say but her throat was so dry that she simply made a squeaking noise. At this point, if it were a horde of zombies, she’d gladly let them eat her. Anything to stop the pain.
“Darlene?”
It was John. He knocked again. “Are you alright?”
Darlene glanced down at her stained shirt and sighed. She put her fingers through her hair and came away with something gray and sticky. She had to laugh, but knew it would hurt.
John knocked on the door again.
“Come in,” she finally managed. As the door opened – she was so glad that it was unlocked and she didn’t have to spend an hour trying to rise and unlock it – she propped herself on a couch pillow with an elbow and tried to smile. Maybe he won’t notice how I look, or how I smell.
John stopped in his tracks. “Oh my God, are you alright?”
“Sure.”
“You look like…”
“Shit?” she finally said.
“Well, yeah,” John said and sat down on a chair across from her. He made a face. “What is that smell?”
“Crackers, cheese and wine.” Darlene felt her stomach roiling again. “I might need some help to the bathroom.”
John rose and helped her slowly to her feet. They moved gingerly to the bathroom. “Let’s try to hit the toilet bowl this time,” John said and stepped over the explosion in the doorway.
“Hold my hair back,” Darlene said and dropped to the floor, her face buried in the bowl.
“This is how most of my dates in high school ended,” John quipped.
Despite the situation and the rising bile in her throat Darlene laughed.
“Of course, it was awkward the next day in class when she would tell everyone about holding my hair back while I puked.”
“You are quite the comedian,” Darlene said before emptying what was left of her stomach into the water. Three gags later and she was finished for now.
“Let’s get you back into bed. Is there any way you can change yourself?” John asked.
“None whatsoever.” Darlene was getting sicker just by smelling her clothes. “If you promise to not ravish me, I’ll let you strip me.”
“I promise.” He lifted her up off of the floor and carried-dragged-shuffled her to the bedroom.
Darlene put her face near his and smiled. “Of course, once all of this is over, feel free to ravish me.”
John grimaced. “Your breath could knock a buzzard off of a shit wagon.” He put her at arm’s length, made sure she was balanced, and stripped off her shirt.
“See anything you like?” Darlene asked. She knew she was being silly but she was getting very self-conscious and very embarrassed.
“Nothing sexier than a girl covered in puke.”
Darlene put her hands on her hips and was proud that she didn’t fall over. She exaggerated a pout with her bottom lip. “Are you saying I’m ugly?”
John shook his head, looked away from her, and unbuttoned her pants. “I’m not saying that at all.”
“Then you think I’m ugly?”
John got her pants down to her ankles and she stepped out of them. She caught him glancing quickly at the front of her blue thongs.
“Get into bed. Can you manage that?” John said.
“Care to join me?” Darlene said as she crawled onto the bed and put her ass in the air. “See anything you like?”
John’s face grew red and he turned away. “I have to go.”
“Do you really?” Despite being weak and sick she wanted him. She knew she was being stupid and desperate but she didn’t care.
John stared into her eyes. “I’m married.”
Darlene had nothing to say to that. “I’m sorry,” she finally whispered and got under the covers.
“I’ll see you later.” John turned and walked away.
“Wait, John.”
“Yes?” John didn’t even turn as he stopped.
“I’m really, really sorry. Please come back in a few hours and check on me. Please.”
“I will.”
Sixteen
“Feeling better?”
“Much.” Darlene was standing on the porch, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. She held a glass of water in her hands. “I needed a few more hours of sleep, I guess.”
John leaned on the rail. “You were a mess.”
“Thanks.” Darlene sipped at the cold water. “I appreciate you reminding me of that.” She stared at John. “And thanks for coming back and checking up on me, and for putting me into bed in the first place.” Darlene looked back to the ocean. “I’m really sorry for what I said, that was so stupid of me.”
“Forget it.”
“I can’t. I was being selfish and stupid.”
“You were being human.”
Darlene shook her head. “I hope we can still be friends.”
John put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Of course we can still be friends.”
“Good. I’ll never bring it up again.”
“Fair enough. Besides, now I know how you feel about me.” John smiled and winked. “It’s obvious you have a crush on me.”
“You dick.”
The sky was clear in the fading light of day, the heat shimmering off of the sand surrounding them. No trace of the rains remained. Welcome to Florida, she thought.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” John said slowly.
“Yes, they are real.” She squeezed her chest.
John laughed. “Are you always so forward?”
“Is that your question?”
“My first question.”
“I never was before. I was always very shy, if you can believe that. I grew up in a very small and very close-knit little town in Maine. I was the ugly duckling growing up.”
“I doubt that.”
“It’s true. I didn’t have a boyfriend until my senior year, and that ended horribly. My father worked in factories all of his life. My father actually helped manufacture the Desert Eagle I carry. He gave that gun to me on my sixteenth birthday and taught me how to shoot it.”
“Do you think he’s still alive?”
Darlene looked him in the eyes. “I killed him with the Desert Eagle when he turned.”
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault. Anyway, that feels like a hundred years ago. I’ve been through so much in the last few months. Hell, I’ve been through so much in the last few weeks and days. I’m sometimes amazed that I haven’t simply collapsed and given up.”
“I feel the same way. For me the motivation to see my wife and kids keeps me going.” John grew quiet and stared into the darkness creeping over the water.
Darlene figured that she’d give him some room and not broach the subject again. It was obvious after this morning and his words and body language now that it was all still fresh in his mind. He’d never gotten over the fact that he was here and they were somewhere else. And more than likely dead or worse right now.
“I know it’s such a long shot that they are alive. My dad keeps trying to change the subject when I bring them up. It’s like that time that the little boy went missing in the mall and the mother was on TV pleading with his abductor to return him safely. Three weeks later she was still on the news, crying and ranting, for the safe return of her son. We all knew the truth. We knew her son was beyond help and wouldn’t return to her alive.” John rubbed his eyes.
“I don’t remember that, but the story is common enough.”
“It happened at the mall where I worked in Tallahassee. A month later they found his body. It was buried in six inches of mud a half a mile behi
nd the mall. They’d scoured that area for days and days without finding him. The autopsy confirmed that he had been killed within hours of the kidnapping.”
“That’s awful.” Darlene didn’t know what else to say.
“Yes, it is. But his mom had hope, whether it was realistic or not. I have to have hope, don’t I?”
“Of course you do. You need that to keep going, to get up every day and face the terror that has become our existence. I commend you for that.”
John glanced at Darlene and smiled. “Now, for my real question.”
“Shoot.”
John pointed at her ankle. “Want to tell me about that bite and why you’re still alive?”
Darlene squirmed and her first instinct was to get up and go inside. Unconsciously she scratched at the dark mark on her ankle under her sock. “How do you know? Don’t tell me you stripped me completely down this morning. How embarrassing.”
“Not at all, although I did get to see you without a shirt and pants.”
Darlene put her head down and feigned embarrassment. “Great.”
“My dad told me about it the day you showed up here. He said it didn’t look that fresh, although it was still raw-looking and the blood just under the skin was black. He thought for sure you’d turn any minute, but you never did.”
“Why didn’t he say anything?”
“I think he was just happy to see you still alive. It was obvious that you had no symptoms.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Darlene covered her ankle with her hand. “Not yet. I still have nightmares.”
“Fair enough.”
Darlene turned to John and grinned. “I thought you said you were a cop.”
John hesitated. “I am.”
“A mall cop?”
“It’s still a cop.”
Darlene laughed. “And all this time I thought I was being protected by this hardcore police officer. I put my life in the hands of a guy who chases skateboarders from the parking lot.”
“Ouch.”
“The guy who gets a discount in the food court.”
“Stop,” John said and tried not to laugh. “You call me mean.”