The building Matt thought was an office turned out to be an unusual store that sold different kinds of spiritual object and books. A “juju” shop, as Braylen dubbed it. We found two unlocked windows, so climbed in through the largest. The sound of the dead was a distant irritant, and I hoped it would remain so. It looked like a simple building from the outside, and gaining entry came easily, but the interior was far more complex than I imagined. Matt and Braylen set about securing the place the best they could, while also checking room-by-room to make sure we were alone. Ellis and I remained in a large area that could best be described as a showroom, where we drew curtains to keep unwanted eyes out.
“We should find somewhere for you to lay down,” I said, my voice hushed in case anyone we didn’t know might be lingering in the building.
“Nah. I’m fine.”
“You’re not. You look exhausted and feverish.”
“If anyone needs to lay down, it’s you,” he said.
“No. My ankle’s feeling better. I’ll be fine.”
Overhead, a crash alarmed us.
“What the fuck was that?” asked Ellis.
We both advanced through a doorway and entered a darker room. It was well-used as a sitting area, complete with an old-style camelback sofa, an overstuffed easy chair, and a round area rug. Everything was in shades of cream and cranberry red.
“Everything’s fine,” called out Braylen. “I just knocked over a lamp.”
Matt entered the room from the side opposite our entry, his pistol in hand and aimed casually at the floor.
“All clear down here,” he said. “Bray’s upstairs…being his clumsy self.”
“I heard that!” came Braylen’s voice from behind Matt.
“What next?” I asked.
“I think we should scavenge the kitchen and head upstairs,” said Matt.
“Kitchen?” I asked, not expecting a trinket shop to have a kitchen.
“Yeah, someone lives here. There’s two rooms upstairs, but that’s about it,” said Braylen.
“It’s getting too dark to see,” Ellis mentioned.
“I saw some weird candles in the trinket room,” said Matt. “I’ll grab them.”
“Dude, you look beat. Why don’t you guys head upstairs, and I’ll find some grub and be right up,” said Braylen.
“I won’t argue,” I said through a yawn.
“The stairway’s down the hall on the left. It’s dark as sin up there, so be careful.”
“Thanks, Braylen,” I said as Ellis and I began walking down the hall.
“I can’t see a damn thing,” said Ellis. He sounded irritated.
“It’s not that dark,” I said, trusting he couldn’t see me rolling my eyes.
I found his hand and took the lead down the hall. The only light came from an open doorway across from the stairway, and that was scarce.
“Here,” I said. “Step up.”
I began to ascend the steps, still holding onto his hand. Seeing was difficult, so I made my way slowly.
“I’m so fucking tired,” Ellis mumbled.
“Keep climbing,” I said, doing my best to stifle a yawn.
Matt caught up to us with a lit candle in hand. The old wood plank floors squeaked beneath our feet. The walls looked older than the floors. I was pretty sure they were original plaster and lath.
“I call that bed,” said Ellis, who let go of my hand and walked toward an old brass bed with a chenille spread and floppy pillows. Everything about the room seemed ancient.
“There’s another room off this one. Just to the right and around the corner. Can’t miss it. Whoever lives here has it set up as an office, but there’s a sofa.”
I turned back toward the stairway when I heard Braylen’s footfalls.
“Kitchen’s pretty empty, but I found a box of Kix cereal and a two liter of Dr. Pepper,” he announced.
I followed Ellis to the bed, where I sat beside him. The mattress sagged under my weight. He flopped backward, his feet still on the floor. “Ow.”
“You should drink something and at least take some Tylenol,” I said to him.
“Sounds great. My back’s killing me.”
“Here, one step ahead of you,” said Matt as he held out his hand.
I reached for them since I was closest.
“Tylenol.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Ellis, sit up for a sec. Take these.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His face wore a mask of pain as he straightened himself and sat up on the side of the bed.
“Want some cereal?” asked Braylen.
“Honestly, I just need sleep right now. I’ll eat something later,” Ellis said as he downed the pills.
“You bet.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled as he laid back down.
“Not so fast,” I said. “Your t-shirt’s bled through. Let me clean your back before you go to sleep.”
“First aid kit’s still in the brown pack. We’ll head to the next room over, so we don’t keep him awake,” said Matt. “Come over for some food and drink when you’re done?”
“Soon,” I said absently. “And thanks.”
As they walked away, I remained seated on the mattress beside Ellis and looked at him. His forehead was covered in a sheen and his cheeks were bright pink. I worried his road rash injury may be infected. I placed the back of my head against his brow, alarmed by the heat that radiated from him.
“You’re burning up,” I said.
“I’ll be fine,” he said as he took my hand in his. “The Tylenol will help, and so will some sleep.”
“If you say so.” I wasn’t convinced. “I’ll grab the first aid kit. Take your shirt off?”
“Yes ma’am.”
I stood up, the bed frame squeaking. I used the single flashlight we had to rummage through the brown back pack. I found the red first aid kit and grabbed it before taking a seat beside Ellis again. He looked so tired; his head hung forward and his closed eyes only opened when I cleared my throat.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Yeah. Want me to lay down?”
“No. I’m just going to sit behind you and do what I can in the dark.”
I scooted back on the bed so that I sat directly behind him. I took out the supplies I figured I’d need the most and arranged them beside me on the bed: peroxide, Neosporin, bandages.
“Still awake?” I asked.
“Barely.”
“I’m about ready, but I need to hold the flashlight in my mouth so won’t be able to talk.”
“Okay. I won’t ask any questions.”
“Let me know if it hurts, though.”
“Will do.”
I carefully put the small flashlight between my teeth. I saturated a wad of gauze with some of the peroxide and carefully dabbed at Ellis’ broken skin. Areas of dried blood fizzed. His left shoulder blade saw the worst of the asphalt assault. He winced when I scrubbed gently at a patch of raw skin that still held a small bit of gravel. Not wanting to soil the bed, I dropped the bloodied gauze onto the ground. I opened three of the small antibacterial ointment packets and spread them onto a clean gauze. Wanting to spare Ellis pain, I dabbed it on as carefully as I was able.
“Almost done,” I said around the flashlight. The words weren’t very clear, but Ellis seemed to get the point.
Two large bandages with built-in adhesive edges covered most of the wounds. I removed the flashlight from between my teeth, careful to wipe away a string of drool that had formed.
“All done. Stand up and I’ll pull the covers back for you.”
He twisted around to look at me.
“Thank you.”
His eyes were full of many emotions, as well as deep fatigue.
“Of course. Now get up,” I encouraged.
He stood up and reached for his dirty t-shirt.
“Nuh-uh. Don’t put that thing back on,” I said firmly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I pulled the covers down and enc
ouraged him to take his pants and shoes off. Once he did, I gave him permission to sit down. He swung his legs up onto the mattress.
“You should get some sleep too,” he said, his eyes closing.
“You’ll sleep better alone,” I mumbled.
As I turned and bent down to clean up the dirty gauze and bandage wrappers from the floor, he wrapped a hand around my wrist. I straightened and turned to face him. His grip shifted from my wrist to embrace my hand.
“Please?” he asked.
I studied his face, concerned by the desperation I saw. He lifted his torso off the bed and pulled gently on me until I allowed myself to sink onto the bed with him. The mattress frame protested loudly, and Ellis grinned. He took the flashlight from my other hand and turned it off. His body was warm, and while I assumed it was fever, I welcomed the heat. He turned on his side and held me close. I couldn’t see him but felt his breath on my forehead. I rested my upper arm on his side, careful to not touch his back. Aside from our breathing, the only sound came from the next room over. Matt and Braylen were talking in quiet voices, their words muffled.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” Ellis whispered.
“Is the Tylenol helping at all?”
“A bit. Having you next to me is the best medicine.”
“You’re corny,” I said through a yawn.
“Yeah something kind of like that, but it doesn’t start with a c,” he chuckled.
I made an overexaggerated groan of joking disapproval.
“What do you think tomorrow will bring?” I asked in a whisper.
“More Hell. More running. And if we’re lucky, my family’s bug-out cabin.”
“Think we’ll find another car? Or will we need to walk? I’m so sick of running away.”
“Poppy?” he asked sleepily.
“Huh?”
“You talk a lot.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay…just…”
“Just what?”
“If you don’t stop talking and hold your head still I can’t kiss you.”
Not expecting those words, my skin tingled with the electricity of anticipation. “We haven’t talked about that kiss back in the airplane,” I said.
Before I could say more, the heat of his face found me as his lips pressed against mine. My muscles, which I hadn’t realized were tensed up, relaxed as we mutually deepened the kiss. I enjoyed the warmth of his skin against mine and his taste. His hand cupped the side of my head and he shifted his weight slightly, careful not to break the kiss. I placed my hands on his shoulders and eagerly returned his affection. His hand dropped from the side of my head and found my waist, where he explored until he found bare skin beneath my shirt.
He broke the kiss, and while it was too dark to see his face I could feel his warmth linger just above me.
“I want you, Poppy” he whispered as his thumb gently stroked my side.
I answered by reaching both hands up and carefully finding his face. I held onto him and pulled his mouth back to mine. He groaned slightly as he intensified the kiss and his hand traveled farther up my shirt. He moved his lips from my mouth and gently kissed my neck. His touch was gentler than any man I had experienced before, and in short order I was eagerly helping him pull my shirt over my head. His hands searched for the back clasp of my bra, so l lifted myself onto my elbows to afford him room to undo my bra. As soon as I was free of both shirt and undergarment, I sank back into the bed and found it nearly impossible to breathe evenly as his mouth and hands both searched for my breasts.
The bed groaned loudly as Ellis shifted his weight to straddle me. In the background, I heard the distinct sound of a door closing, followed by the muffled sounds of Matt and Braylen cracking a joke about privacy.
“They heard us,” I whispered.
“Yeah but they shut the door,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure they’re giving us some privacy. We can stop if you want.”
“I don’t usually do this. I mean, this fast…”
“Yeah me either,” he admitted as he un-straddled me and lay back onto his side.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m a whore.”
He laughed, deeper than I would have expected. “I wouldn’t think that.”
“Thanks.”
“Let’s wait till there aren’t people right next door,” he said as he yawned again.
I nestled in beside him and he pulled the covers over us both, including our heads.
“What if there isn’t time to wait?” I asked, thoughts of the living dead filling my mind. “What if we’re out of time?”
“We can’t think like that.”
“We have to,” I countered.
He wrapped an arm around me and held me close. I snuggled into him, inhaling his scent deeply. He rested a hand on my butt. Laying together, both of us bare on top, felt right when nothing else in the world did. Sleep came quickly.
Chapter Fifteen
When I woke, the room was filled with daylight. My neck was stiff from sleeping and it took me a moment to remember where I was. Ellis was wide awake, his face only inches from my own.
“You look like an angel when you sleep,” he said with a smile.
“Hardly,” I chuckled. “Who opened the curtains?”
“Braylen. He’s downstairs with Matt.”
“What’s the plan?”
“I think we should head out today. The guys have offered to go scout around for a new vehicle.”
“I don’t think we should split up,” I said quickly.
“With my back and your ankle, I don’t think we have much choice. We’d just hold them back.”
“How is your back feeling?”
“Better. Your ankle?”
I moved my foot in a circle to test my joint, which thankfully reacted without much pain. “Better,” I echoed him.
“We should get up and start searching the place,” he said as he put his nose close to mine. “Who knows what useful stuff might be waiting for us.”
I smiled as he finished the statement with another kiss.
“I need a toothbrush,” I admitted as I gently pulled my head back.
“We’ll get you hooked up once we get home.”
“Home, huh?”
“Mi casa es su casa,” he said with a grin.
“I’m getting up; I need to pee,” I groaned.
“Me too. Do me a favor, though?”
“What’s that?”
“Put your shirt back on before you go downstairs?”
I sat on the edge of the bed, keeping the sheet over my chest, and playfully glared at him. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“I’m listening,” he said.
“I’ll put my shirt back on if you promise to never wear yours again. I’ll find you a clean one.”
“Deal.”
I found my crumpled shirt at the foot of the bed, and my bra near the middle of the room. It didn’t take me long to dress, and while I faced away from Ellis I could feel his eyes on me. I casually walked to the built-in dresser and shelf along the far wall and picked up a framed photo of a man who might have been in his forties who was standing beside an older woman. By their similarities, I figured they might be mother and son. Upon hearing the creak of the bed, I turned and smiled at Ellis as he finished tying his boots. The sudden breaking of glass and the sound of one of our companions struggling caused us both to freeze instantly. I dropped the framed picture and flinched when Ellis brushed past me.
“Stay here,” he said firmly.
Shouting erupted on the floor below, immediately followed by a gun shot.
“We have company!” shouted Matt. “Braylen, get up,” he urged.
“Fuck man, there’s blood everywhere,” yelled Braylen.
Ignoring Ellis’ instructions to stay put, I rushed down the stairs behind him. My ankle did little to protest, to my relief. By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, another gun shot rang out. We rounded the corner and rushed toward the sales roo
m. Wind from outside whipped its way in through the large front window, which had shattered. Two of the display stands lay on the floor, their contents scattered randomly. Braylen sat on the floor, a shocked look upon his face. Blood covered his arm, the floor, and heavily splattered the walls. Two of the dead were unmoving and silent: one on the floor beneath the broken window, the other hanging over the window ledge where it died presumably trying to enter the building. Growling and groaning mixed with the howl of the wind and the smell of fresh rain on dry pavement mingled together with that of blood and rot.
“Stay back from the window!” Matt shouted. “There’s more coming.”
“We have to get out!” I yelled.
“Braylen, can you walk?” asked Ellis, who was already at the man’s side and pulling him to his feet.
Matt fired another shot from his pistol, aiming at an infected who had reached the newest entryway. Missing his mark, he fired two more.
“There’s a back door in the kitchen. We need to move fast. Head whichever direction is the least crowded, but try to stay together,” Ellis strained to be heard over the increasing noise. “If you get separated try to shelter in place till we can all meet back up.”
I hurried into the kitchen, wishing I had time to head upstairs to retrieve my shoes, the bug-out bag, and my hand gun. On my way to the back door, I grabbed a cleaver from the kitchen counter. By the time I turned the knob on the door, Ellis and Braylen were right behind me. Blood flowed freely from Braylen’s forearm. Daring to lose precious seconds, I scanned the kitchen quickly for a towel with which to bind his arm.
“Go, Poppy!” hollered Matt as he rushed into the room.
I pulled the door inward and fled into the yard. Wind tried to force me backward and nearly blinded me by whipping my hair into my eyes. Sharp bits of gravel and debris bit into the soles of my feet, but I forced myself forward and farther from the house. One of the dead stumbled toward me. Only a couple of yards away, I got angry and rushed forward with the cleaver. It was a man in a business suit who had no visible wounds. I only knew he was one of the dead by his gait and sickly pale skin. Tall and lanky, he towered over me, and as I came within arm’s reach of him I had second thoughts about what I was about to do. I wouldn’t have enough leverage to strike him forcefully with the cleaver, so I pushed at him as hard as I could with outstretched arms. He stumbled backward, and I took advantage and pushed him again. He fell to the ground and I brought the cleaver downward on his head. It struck above his left ear, taking with it a chunk of scalp, but not penetrating his skull. As I brought the blade back over my head, the dead man began to rise. I took another whack, this time embedding the cleaver through his left eye and into his brain. He fell still. I tried to pull the weapon back, but it was hopelessly lodged in his skull.
The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection Page 16
