Now Annie was getting furious with him. "What's so fucking funny?" She was so leaving him sooner than later. Forget waiting until tonight; she was planning on walking out of this shitty store and away from this idiot. But first…
"You won't go out in public with me? You're so funny. Baby, there is no public anymore. It's just me and you and whatever clothes and food we can find."
"Do you have a flashlight?" she asked irritably.
"No, do you?" he asked, still laughing. "Why?"
"It's fucking dark in there," she said and pointed. "Go in and see if you can find something."
Carl put his hands up. "Not me."
"What are you, a pussy? Get your ass in there and see what you can find. There's probably a back door. It will let light in and we can see what's back there."
"There might be zombies."
"If there were, don't you think they'd attack already?"
"I guess." Carl shuffled back and forth. "It's dark," he said finally.
"Maybe there will be a flashlight in there," she said sarcastically.
"Maybe," he murmured but went past her and inside. Within three steps the darkness swallowed him.
She heard him crash into something and howl in pain. "Keep moving," she yelled. If he got hurt she was going to leave him here, that much was certain.
After what felt like an hour Annie suddenly squinted against a bright light. Carl had found the back door and opened it.
"It's about time," she said. She approached him as he pushed the door wide and laughed. "What's so funny?"
"I found my new toy," Carl said.
When she looked past him at the motorcycle she snorted. "You'll kill yourself."
Carl ignored her jab and touched the bike, inspecting it with a child-like gleam. "It's a '99 Harley Road King Classic. These bad boys go for over ten grand in decent shape. This one is mint. They took care of it."
The motorcycle was in a small, caged area behind the store with a thick tarp over the top.
"You ride?" Annie asked skeptically.
"Of course. I've been riding my whole life. I was raised by a stepfather who was a Hell's Angels member, believe it or not." He smiled at her in his goofy print shirt. "I was a bit of a bad-ass in my youth. Did a stint in county jail, got in one too many barroom brawls."
"You're shitting me, right?"
"Nope. The last ten years I decided to settle down, get a real job, and start growing up." Carl began looking around. "We'll have to walk it through the store. Let's see what's in the stockroom and get out of here. I'm itching to take this baby for a spin and see what trouble we ca get into."
She was wet, plain and simple. This was the guy she was looking for, the take-charge bastard that set the rules. "First, I need you to fuck me." Annie pulled her jeans down and wiggled her ass as she bent over the seat of the Harley. "In my ass."
* * * * *
Annie still hated the Hawaiian shirt but her ass still tingled from the reaming she'd gotten. They found some candy bars in an employee locker and sat on the sales counter, watching the street and enjoying the snacks.
"Which way do you want to ride?" she asked.
"Into the sunset," he said and winked at her. "I know we're close to the beach. I'm thinking we'll take a cruise over to the beach, get some sun, find a nice hotel overlooking the ocean, and vacation for a bit."
"Sounds like a plan to me," she said. She decided she'd stay with him now that he was asserting his inner bad boy. "I'm pretty sure, if we keep traveling down the highway east, we'll hit Daytona Beach."
"Excellent. I haven't been to Daytona since spring break in college. I hope there aren't big crowds there," Carl said. He laughed at his own joke.
"What are we waiting for?" Annie asked.
Carl shrugged. "Let's hit the highway."
* * * * *
The wind whipped through her hair and put a smile on her face. Annie felt free, enjoying the trees on either side of the two-lane road as they sped along at a dangerous speed. "Faster, lover," she yelled in his ear and rubbed his groin to get her point across.
Carl complied with a laugh and the Harley accelerated down the road.
Annie ignored the signs around her - the burnt-out cars, smoke in the distance, body parts littering the side of the road - and studied the houses they past, wondering what the inside looked like. Maybe, after they'd settled, she'd take a trip back here with Carl and find a nice house to live in.
Carl screamed a second before Annie felt weightless, the sky twisting-turning and the pavement rushing to meet her face-first. Everything went black.
* * * * *
She heard the noise as she came to, a strange sound she couldn't place. Her eyes felt swollen, crusted with something, her mouth tasting like iron.
It was daybreak. The sun was trying to fight its way out from between the trees on the side of the road and Annie was fighting to stay conscious.
She managed to roll over and was shocked to see the amount of blood she was lying in. She didn't know if it was all hers.
The noise came again. Annie shook the cobwebs from her head and lifted to one elbow, pain flaring in her arm but she knew it wasn't broken. She didn't think anything was actually wrecked. Only the Harley, she thought bitterly.
It came back to her now, the drive through Florida, Carl in front of her, the beautiful weather, and then… the crash?
"Carl?" she said, her voice cracked through her bloody, dry lips. She'd spent the night on the side of the highway unconscious. But still alive.
When she finally got on her feet she was wobbly but the blood was moving again and she was fine. Annie turned and was shocked to see how far the Harley was from her, on its side down the road. She looked back for Carl and to see what they'd hit, but there was nothing.
She called his name again, louder this time. Three steps from the Harley she saw him, on the side of the road. With a dirty child feasting on his left leg.
Annie moved to the bike and found her tire iron in the saddlebag. With a renewed purpose she approached the creature, who had stopped biting Carl and stared at her with a dead glare.
Carl suddenly stood and for a brief moment she was happy, thinking he'd somehow survived the night and the biting and would help her deal with the monster and then they'd finish their ride to Daytona Beach and spend the rest of their life together.
He opened his mouth and stumbled toward her. Annie knew at that point that he was gone. His eyes were glazed over.
Annie held her ground, hefting the tire iron. She'd come this far without having to deal directly with the undead.
She cried, realizing her first one would be someone she actually had feelings for.
Clothes Shopping
Darlene Bobich didn't know which part was worse right now: being naked on the cold streets of Buffalo, New York or the fact there was a zombie apocalypse happening all around her.
She decided that in the 'right here, right now' the freezing naked thing took precedence over the undead thing, so she tried doors and windows as she made her way down a suburban neighborhood that had been relatively unscathed. Here and there a home had been torched and most of the cars on the street were demolished, but the lawns were overgrown but not trampled like she'd seen everywhere else.
Houses, dark, stared back at her. To her right a pickup truck, doors open, was halfway backed out of the driveway. Across the street the front door had been ripped off its hinges and propped against the bushes.
Darlene realized the block reminded her of home, even though she was hundreds of miles away. The pretty, well-kept middle-class block, rows of likable houses. She imagined the kids coming inside just before dark, mom fixing dinner while dad pulled up in his Camry and parked next to mom's mini-van.
Her daydreaming was shattered by the crash of glass somewhere close by. She ran across the street and up the driveway since the house looked still intact.
The front door was locked and she heard footsteps, slow and methodical, from the st
reet. Without streetlights and with only the thin moon above everything was in silhouette, but she didn't need to see to know there were undead in the area.
Darlene ran to the garage side of the house and around through the side yard, careful not to crash into the low bushes or make any noise. The side door was locked as well, but not the back gate to the yard.
She entered, Desert Eagle drawn, hand shaking, with only moonlight for a guide. Every shadow moved and attacked her and she had to stop and close her eyes and breathe before she panicked.
"Nothing but the ghosts," she whispered. "And my nerves." Darlene made sure the gate clicked back in place.
The back patio was strewn with leaves but otherwise untouched, the table and chairs waiting for the nearby grill to get started so the family could eat. The sliding glass doors were locked, the shades inside drawn.
Darlene was standing there, gun in hand, nothing on, trying to come up with a game plan but her mind was blank. She didn't think she could stay in the yard all night like this. It wasn't freezing out but it was getting colder the later it got.
The low growl near her ankles scared her so much that she slipped on the patio and fell to the ground, her weapon hitting the grass.
When the large dog stood over her she thought she would either be bitten or it would bark and she'd be attacked by a horde of zombies. Instead, it sniffed quietly at her hand. She let the dog smell her and was relieved when its tail began to wag.
"Where'd you come from, boy?" she asked, petting the German Shepard. The yard was completely fenced in. Darlene went back to the sliding doors and looked around for a pet door or something she'd missed. Nothing, but it was so dark.
"Throw me a bone, boy," Darlene said and then giggled at her stupid pun. The dog sat on its hind legs and stared at her, tail going a mile a minute.
She felt around and found an opening to the far left of the door, next to the start of the bushes. It was larger than a normal doggy door but she didn't think she'd be able to squeeze through. "Not with these hips," she whispered.
"Go inside, by, and unlock the door for mommy," she whispered at her new friend, but he only licked her hand. "Didn't think so."
Darlene didn't hear any noise from over the fence, only the sound of the dog breathing. It sat down on its hind legs and stared at Darlene, tongue wagging.
"After you?" Darlene said to the dog and pointed at the small opening. When he didn't jump in front of her -typical male, she thought - she got down on her hands and knees.
"Let's get this big ass through the tiny hole," she whispered. "That's all I'm asking."
She wished again she had a flashlight, because when she pulled the flap open and squeezed her head in it was pitch black. Her shoulders squeezed in and she managed to get her chest through with difficulty, but once she got to her hips - damn Bobich Family curse! - she was screwed.
Of course, that was the moment the dog began to growl, low and mean.
Darlene, panicking, tried to push herself back out but she was firmly stuck. I'm going to die, trapped in a doggy door, all alone, she thought. Of all the shitty ways to die.
Something brushed against her leg and she stiffened. She hoped it was only the dog. A strange, calming thought came to her just then: she wondered what the dog's name was. Maybe he had a tag on his collar.
Darlene closed her eyes, since she couldn't see anyway. Very slowly she started to rock her hips, her hands pushing against the sides of the wall as she did.
"Please don't bark," she whispered when she heard him growl again, right behind her on the steps. There was another noise, but it was so muffled and she was inside the house that she wasn't sure she'd actually heard it or not.
She tried turning her hips on an angle and pushing her way in. She was sweating. Look on the bright side: at least I don't have clothes on to hinder me more. She wiped her thick mop of soaking hair with her hand and went to touch the floor when she stopped.
It was quite humid in the house. There was no telling how long the power had been out and the family closed up the house. It was hot. Darlene started wiping her face, neck and hair and rubbing whatever parts of her hips she could touch.
She rocked back and forth again, and after what felt like six hours but was likely six minutes she was free. Pulling her legs in, she turned and held the door open.
The German Shepard was growling at something she couldn't see, stepping forward with head raised and teeth bared.
"Come on, boy, come inside," she whispered. "Come to me."
The dog barked, once, loudly.
"Shit." She knew she'd be pushing it if she tried to get back outside to grab the dog. She put her head back out and looked around, but she didn't see anything or anyone. Of course it was still so dark outside that she couldn't see past the back patio.
"Please, please, please, come here," she whispered.
The German Shepard stopped and looked at her. She smiled and waved her hand at him.
She heard the gate being pushed slowly open.
The dog started barking and moved out of her sight.
Darlene came fully inside the house and stood, holding onto the Desert Eagle. She looked at the sliding glass back door, currently covered in shades, and nearly punched herself in the head. "Stupid bitch," she whispered. The fucking door is right here. I'm still crawling on my hands and knees from inside the fucking house.
She clicked the lock to the door at the same time she moved the shades using the Desert Eagle. The dog was lost in shadows but she could hear him growling and barking.
The door slid on its hinges with a slight squeak. She froze, the door only half a foot wide. Cool air entered the house and brushed against her naked body, cooling her off. The sweat still on her hips and sides gave her goose bumps when mixed with the night air.
Darlene could clearly hear footsteps now on the lawn, moving toward the patio. She moved back into the house, angling so she could still see out the crack in the door and fire if need be.
"Calm down, little doggie," she heard a gruff male voice say. "You'll alert the damn neighborhood."
"Just shoot the damn thing," a whispering female voice said with disdain.
Is that Barbara and Doug? She started to sweat.
She watched the figure kneel and pet the dog, who stopped growling and barking. "Traitor," she whispered but knew the dog was starved for attention. Another figure, obviously the woman, was suddenly next to him.
"Let's try the house," she said. "I don't like it here."
Darlene took several steps back before turning. Her eyes had gotten adjusted to the gloom and she could just make out darker objects - the living room couch, the entertainment center, and the coffee table - and avoided them as she scampered down a hallway and looked for a place to hide.
She heard the sliding door opening as she entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could. Stupid move, she thought. Trapped myself in the bathroom. Naked.
Darlene climbed into the bathtub and pulled the shower curtain closed, pointing the gun in front of her. Hands shaking and trying not to cry, she slid down into the cold tub and waited.
The couple - she was sure it wasn't Barbara and Doug - began moving about the house but so far neither had bothered entering the bathroom. If they did she would simply shoot them.
There were no windows in the room and the darkness enveloped her. As a little girl she'd never been really scared of the dark, only when it suited her needs and she wanted to get closer to her daddy. They'd vacationed in Vermont a few weeks after her mom had died, daddy so quiet and sad. They spent a week in the woods, in a small camper, getting back to nature. Fishing and canoeing. Daddy had cried softly that first night, wrapped in his sleeping bag with the camper top open to the stars. Darlene had feigned being scared of bears and climbed in next to him. He stroked her hair and sobbed quietly until she was fast asleep.
* * * * *
Darlene woke with a stiff neck. She had to pee and laughed at the stupidit
y of that. I'm in a fucking bathroom. She stretched, rubbing her muscles. Her legs and arms were needles and pins. There was no way to tell what time it was, but from the way her body felt she'd slept for a few hours at least.
Not that it helped. She felt more exhausted than when she'd broken into the house. Crawled into the house.
After taking care of personal business (and enjoying the comfort of an actual toilet and toilet paper) Darlene crept to the door and put her ear to it. She didn't hear anything, idly wondering if doing this actually worked outside of movies.
At this point, lured into a false sense of security, our heroine opens the door and the chainsaw-wielding maniac in the dead skin mask attacks, she thought. "Better than crouching naked in a bathroom until you starved to death," she whispered and opened the door a crack.
The hallway, of course, was dark, but there was a faint natural light tint to everything. She guessed the sun was up. She opened the door and stepped out into the hall but she wasn't attacked and she didn't hear a sound.
Back into the living room she wasn't surprised to see the sliding glass doors closed and locked. The couple was still in the house.
Her initial urge was to simply leave and find another house to search, but she needed clothes now. She knew it was stupid and made no real sense, but she walked back down the hall and opened a door at the end of the hall.
The couple was there, completely naked, lying on top of the bed covers. They were both filthy, with small cuts and bruises covering their arms, face and legs.
Darlene, holding the Desert Eagle, went to the closet, which was slightly ajar. She fingered through the hanging clothes, finally settling on a green blouse, at least two sizes too big. Great, I find the house that the Chubby Family lived in. None of the clothes would fit her comfortably, and the pants were way too big, even if she had a belt on.
She turned when she heard one of them moving on the bed and was not surprised to see the man, .357 in hand, sitting up.
They stared at one another but when his eyes lingered to her naked body she turned and gave him a full view and smiled. "I just wanted clothes," she whispered.
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