Ashes in the Mouth (Zombie Apocalypse Series Book 3)

by Jeff DeGordick

  "That's what I thought," he said. "Just keep looking forward."

  He led her over to a room near the middle of the motel and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked and the door swung open into the dry refuge. He helped her inside, then he took one last look at the area around them.

  The rain came down even thicker than before and the pounding sound of it on the pavement drowned out everything else. But there was no visible movement and no sign of anything around. And somehow that was all the confirmation he needed that the killer was among them.

  Dale took off his baseball cap and stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him and locking it.

  Sarah felt the edge of the bed, but she couldn't see it. She stood in the blackness and waited to see what Dale would do. There was a sound like he was shaking his hat back and forth and she felt droplets of rain splashing against her hand. She heard him rustling around in his coat, followed by the sound of a spark wheel being flicked, and suddenly a small flame pierced the darkness.

  Dale lit a big three-wick candle that he had brought, and he placed it down on a nightstand sitting between two double beds. The glow was just bright enough to light up the whole motel room, though it was still hard to see some things in the dimness. He walked up to a window at the end of the room near the bathroom and looked at it. The glass was frosted and nothing could be seen outside, but he fiddled with it for a moment, making sure it was secure.

  "Can you help me get this off?" Sarah asked, tugging at the zipper on her coat.

  "Of course," he said, walking back and unzipping it for her, then pulling it off as she plunked down onto the end of one of the beds.

  She shivered as soon as it was off and Dale went off into the bathroom and brought her a couple of stiff towels to dry off with. She wrapped one around her shoulders and hunched forward as the water from her hair rolled down her face. "So what's the plan?" she asked.

  Dale walked to the window beside the door and closed the curtains, taking a peek through them as he did. He turned to her and grabbed one of the towels for himself, rubbing it over his balding head. "He's going to come for us. I don't know when, but sometime in the night he will."

  "So what do we do?" Sarah asked.

  "You're not going to like this next part, but I promise that you'll be safe."

  Her stomach already started to turn. "What is it?"

  "Once you get settled, I'm going to slip out the window in the back and go through the window into the room next door. I'll be right beside you the whole time, but he'll think we're both right here. All the windows lock, as does the door, so the only way he's going to get in is if he breaks through something. But I'll be watching and listening the whole time, so I'll know when he comes."

  Sarah wasn't impressed. "So I'm bait..."

  "I told you you weren't going to like it."

  "What if you can't get to me in time?"

  "Like I said, I'm going to be watching all night long. As soon as he tries to get to you, I'll be right behind him. I know I'm big, but I'm more nimble on my feet than you might think. He won't see me coming, and by the time he knows I'm there, it'll be too late. And just to be safe, if you're in any trouble at all, just bang on the wall like this."

  Dale walked over to the wall between the beds and leaned over the nightstand. He raised a meaty fist and gave the wall three heavy thumps.

  "Keep the candle going for a couple hours, then blow it out like you're going to sleep," Dale said. "You can stay up as much as you want, but you should probably get some sleep."

  "What about you?" Sarah asked. "If you get too tired and fall asleep..."

  "Don't worry, I won't. I want that bastard too much." The dim orange light from the candle flickered in his eyes, and she could see the malice in them. She knew he badly wanted revenge, and that put her at ease a little.

  "And you're going to be right next door the whole time?" she asked.

  "The whole time," he assured her. "I'll leave the food and water here for you; I'll have a little before I go, but then I'll be okay for the night."

  Dale made sure Sarah was comfortable and had everything she needed. He went over the plan again, and she was good with it, starting to feel more and more confident that it would work. When he was ready, Dale opened the window at the back of the room.

  It was much smaller and higher up than the window at the front by the door, and he had to give himself a little hop to get his arms through and pull himself up. It was a bit of a squeeze, but he got through without too much trouble or noise, and he didn't speak a single other word to Sarah as he disappeared. She wouldn't have heard anything at all if it weren't for the little bit of noise he made getting into the window next door, and when she was sure that he was safely in the room, she used the crutches to walk to the back and close the window, locking it.

  She made her way back to the bed and sat down, watching the three flames flicker on the candle. She was still soaked head to toe and shivering. She waited for a moment to see if anything would happen or if there were any noises that could be heard from outside before she started taking off her wet clothes. She was nervous about doing it, thinking that as soon as she did the killer would try to break down the door and she would literally be caught with her pants down. But after a long moment of waiting and shivering, her discomfort got the best of her and she pulled off her blouse. It felt like saran wrap clinging to her, and the coldness kissed her bare skin, making her shiver even more. But she waited until she got her bra and pants off before she started to towel herself dry. She pulled her pants and underwear down only to her ankles, not wanting to risk further injuring her sprain by pulling them off. She took one of the towels and worked it all over her body, removing all the moisture from her skin. Though it was still close to freezing in the room, she immediately felt a lot better. She wrung her shirt and bra over the floor, squeezing out every drop of rain that she could, then she bent over on the bed and tried her best to wring out her pants and underwear sitting around her ankles. Then, as much as she didn't want to, she put her clothes back on, cringing at the feeling of the sticky material on her skin. When she was dressed again, she wrapped the towels around her for warmth and propped herself up at the head of the bed, slipping under the covers.

  She sat staring at the wall with nothing at all to do, feeling time pass by at a crawl. She tried to keep count in her head to decide how long an hour or two would be, but eventually she stopped and laid her head down on one of the pillows. She lay on her side, facing the door and window, waiting to see or hear something.

  A couple hours passed and she began to feel sleepy. When she felt like it had been long enough, she slid her legs over the edge of the bed and picked up the crutches, then made her way to the window. Sarah carefully hooked a finger under one of the curtains and pulled it away as she pressed her eye to the edge of it, peering out into the dark parking lot.

  The rain still came down pretty hard and diminished all visibility, though it seemed like the intensity of it had started to lessen. Raindrops splashed on a short metal overhang above, causing an uneven yet almost melodic sound as it ran off and splattered against the concrete on the other side of the window in thick streams.

  Sarah could barely make out the first line of trees on the other side of the road beyond the parking lot. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus them as she scanned along the trees. Her eyes went back and forth, almost wanting to see something.

  Then they stopped.

  Between two trees near a stop sign, she saw the shape. Her eyes worked over it, tracing the edges and trying to use her brain to process what it was. It was that familiar shape that was tall and slender, with curves in all the right spots to make up a pair of shoulders with a head sitting on top of them.

  Her eyes strained harder and harder, feeling like if she blinked even once, the shape would disappear. But it was so dark out and so hard to see, and the shape was terribly vague. She didn't know if she was really seeing it or just projecting it. Finally,
the strain became too much, giving her a headache at the base of her forehead right above her nose, and she squeezed her eyes shut then blinked them a few times, trying to ease the pain. When her eyes came back to the shape, it was gone. She searched back and forth, but she could no longer find it, and she couldn't be sure it was there in the first place.

  She removed her finger from the curtain and let it fall, making her way back into the room. Dale was completely silent next door, and that both comforted her and concerned her, but she knew that everything was okay. Sarah sat on the bed and drank some water from the jug and tried to eat a little jerky, but she found that she wasn't very hungry.

  Feeling exhausted from the walk, she laid herself down on the bed then rolled over, blowing out the candle. Total darkness fell over the room and she lay on her back, the towels still wrapped around her as she pulled the covers up to her neck.

  She listened to the rain outside come down in a pleasing way as she closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. It was hard to do so, because she knew something was going to happen in the night and she would awake in a panic, but eventually sleep came anyway.

  Sometime later—she didn't know how long—she woke up. But it was caused just by her natural internal processes rather than any sudden noise coming from a door or window. Her eyes fluttered open and it took her a moment to realize what was happening.

  The room was still dark and there was no sound from Dale in the next room over, and still the only sound at all came from the rain outside.

  But almost from an instinct—maybe from a miracle—she woke just in time to hear footsteps suddenly splashing in the rain.

  They were distant at first, but they came closer. She thought they were something else at first, but the closer they got, the more unmistakable they became. They made their way across the parking lot right up to her door.

  Sarah's eyes shot wide open as adrenaline pumped through her body. She was completely awake and she clutched her covers in fear, waiting for the door handle to turn. She raised her arm above her head and tried to bang on the wall, but she was deathly afraid to make her knocks loud enough for the person outside to hear.

  Her limp knocks were almost too soft for even her to hear over the rain, and her arm seized up in paralyzing terror.

  But the doorknob never turned.

  She held her breath, her eyes trained on the door, waiting for the killer to burst through as she lamely tapped on the wall. She pictured the door flying inward and seeing his silhouette standing in the doorway as the rain poured down behind him, the only visible part of him his mad smile and those deranged eyes leering at her. She saw him lurch for her, but what he would do next, she couldn't even imagine. Sarah began to shake and her bed rattled on its frame as she waited for her fate. But it never came.

  Finally, after a long moment of confusion, second-guessing whether she heard anything at all, she heard the footsteps again and a barely-noticeable darkening sweeping by the underside of the curtains on the window, heading for the room next door.

  Sarah's heart seized up when she realized what was happening. There was silence for a long time, then it was broken.

  Commotion came through the wall from the next room over and she heard brief sounds that were muffled and hard to hear. She heard yelling one moment, then the sound of someone knocking into furniture the next, then there was coughing like someone was being choked.

  Sarah yanked the covers off of her and grabbed the crutches. She shoved herself up onto her good foot and pulled open the door. She left her coat inside and hobbled out in the rain for Dale's room.

  The door was shut and she wondered how the killer got inside, never hearing it open in the first place.

  The yelling and struggling inside continued, and Sarah tried to open the door, but it was locked. She banged on it and yelled out Dale's name as the rain came down and soaked her all over again.

  The door unexpectedly opened and she fell inside, crashing face-first on the floor. A dark figure stood above her and grabbed her under the armpits and dragged her inside, shutting the door behind her.

  Sarah rolled around on the floor, struggling against him, but then a voice came through the darkness and made her stop.

  "Sarah, what's wrong? Is he here?"

  He helped her up and propped the crutches under her again as she peered through the darkness to find Dale's round face staring at her.

  "Are you okay?" she asked, completely shocked.

  "Me? I'm fine. Are you okay?"

  "I heard noises..." she said.

  "Oh," he said, and laughed. "I'm fine. I didn't mean to scare you."

  And while she was still confused, she suddenly smelled something burning and started to piece together what had happened.

  "I was going to save it for later," Dale said, "but I decided to have my last smoke while I waited. Started to get pretty tired and must've fallen asleep with it still hanging out of my mouth. I guess it fell on the bedspread and it caught on fire. I must've looked like an idiot over here trying to stomp it out."

  Sarah nearly gasped for air, suddenly realizing that she had still been holding her breath. Her heart rate started to slow and she calmed down. "I thought he was here," she said. "I thought you were..."

  "No," Dale said. "I didn't hear a peep from you all night and I was starting to get worried that you were, well... you know."

  She shook her head. "I was fine."

  Dale went to the window and peeked through the curtain. "I think it's only a few hours until sunrise." He walked back toward Sarah and suddenly kicked a dresser with an old tube TV sitting on top in anger. "Son of a bitch didn't even show."

  "I heard him," Sarah said suddenly. "I heard footsteps in the rain. I think that's what woke me. Then they went over to your door and that's when I heard all the noise in here."

  Dale's eyes widened and he went back to the window, peeking out. Sarah half-expected him to throw open the door and disappear into the night, ready for a fight with the killer, but he simply walked back to the bed and sat down, keeping his eyes on the window. "He knew it was a trap," Dale said.

  "He was just toying with us," Sarah agreed. "I don't think he's going to try to get to us tonight."

  "You're right," Dale said. "He's going to come when we least expect it. We need a better idea."

  "You got one?" she asked.

  "I think so. We need to go somewhere a little more permanent where we can set up and wait for him." Dale yawned. "But for now we should get a little more sleep before we get to it in the morning. I think it's best for you to stay here."

  "Okay," she said.

  Dale helped her into one of the double beds, then he got into the other one and they both got a few more hours of sleep before daybreak. He kept his rifle close by, but the killer didn't return.

  10

  …Often Go Awry

  The smell inside the hardware store was atrocious. The rankness filled their nostrils like stale air from a necrotic tomb and turned their stomachs. Sarah turned her head away, pressing a hand to her mouth, and Dale tried to weather it out, but the stench quickly got to him and made his eyes water.

  "Let's get what we need and get out of here," he said, pinching his nose shut.

  Sarah nodded, holding her arm over her nose and mouth as she awkwardly hobbled through the entranceway of the hardware store favoring one crutch. "What are we getting exactly?" she asked in a muffled voice.

  "Just enough supplies for a few traps," Dale replied. "They don't need to do him in, just wound him. Something he won't see coming..." His eyes scanned the shelves, moving along the first aisle farther into the store.

  Sarah strayed near the entrance and cautiously peeked down the next aisle. "Oh God," she said.

  "What is it?" Dale called nervously from the other aisle.

  "I found out what's causing the smell," she said.

  As she stood at one end of the second aisle, Dale came into view a few seconds later at the other end, and their eyes met at the grueso
me sight piled in the middle.

  A loose stack of half a dozen zombies lay on the floor, brutally hacked to death. All of them had been permanently killed, with some limbs chopped off, but mostly just head injuries. There was a shovel lying on the floor next to the pile with the blade covered in very dark, very old blood. A crowbar was lodged into one of the zombies' forehead, and an ice pick was stabbed up through the jaw of another one. Huge pools of blood had dried on the tiled floor around them, and dark splatters coated the shelves and the dusty tools and items hanging from them.

  Sarah stood mesmerized by the scene. She wanted to turn away, but for some reason the brutality of what she was seeing entranced her. Not even consciously aware that she was doing it, she took a step forward on her crutches.

  "Don't get near them," Dale warned. "You never know if they're really dead or not."

  Sarah stopped herself, realizing what she was doing. She came back to reality and nodded at Dale.

  "Just stay close," he said. "I won't be too long."

  "Okay," Sarah said. She turned and sauntered over to the third aisle while she waited, keeping her eyes up on the shelves and looking around for something they could use against the killer.

  Dale hadn't told her exactly what he had in mind, but ever since he found Jimmy's body the previous morning, he had been different from when she first met him; his mind was always focused on something else, always distracted from what she said to him or what was going on directly around him. He was a man on a mission, and she didn't want to get in the way of that. She was just happy to have woken up in the morning still breathing and safe, at least for the moment.

  She heard him clanking around old tools and muttering to himself under his breath. As she passed the next aisle, she saw him at the other end with a couple of green garbage bags that he was folding into each other. After that, she heard him start to put things in the bag, sometimes disagreeing with himself and pulling them back out and replacing them on the shelf.