by Travis Tufo
“I’m sorry I let myself in, I thought there was something out there with me.” His voice echoed throughout the house but drew no response.
“Someone had to have turned those lights on, right? Oh man I hope they’re home; I don’t want some Goldilocks shit to happen.” Eli began his hesitant search through the house and before he’d made it too far, he heard something that stopped his breathing. It sounded like a voice. Eli stood there and listened for a few moments until he could tell for sure it was a voice, but he soon caught on that there was more than one voice. It was two people, at least, having a conversation.
“Hey! Can I talk to whoever is there?” The voices went on, unhindered by his calling out.
“Jesus Christ, some hosts...” Eli rounded the corner past the kitchen where the conversation was coming from and entered the living room. There in the middle of the living room was the most brutal scene he had ever witnessed. He dropped the bag; his jaw unhinged. The television was on, playing some old movie where two people were having a conversation. Before the television was a river of blood and gore. In a recliner sat a man, his wife, and a little girl, maybe twelve-years old. The father’s head was blown apart; the woman’s and their daughter’s faces were wide open to the skull, muscle, tendon, and viscera exposed and half destroyed. It was hard to believe they were even human. Worse yet, they were all dressed so nicely, the man in a grey suit, the woman in a sunflower floral dress, and the little girl in a white dress with a blue bow. Eli ran over and turned the TV off. He looked back to the bodies. What held his attention wasn’t the gore or the church clothes they’d decided to kill themselves in, but the gun that was dangling from the father’s hands. Sure he was dead, but his grip on that gun...Eli thought it was far stronger than it should have been. There it was, a wonderfully kept Taurus .357 Magnum revolver. Eli’s eyes were lit up and glued to that gun. Now, a .357 isn’t the most powerful handgun on earth, but judging by the gaping holes in their skulls, it definitely has some intense fire power. Eli took a step towards the father. A wet squish rewarded him as he planted his foot into the carpet drenched in their blood. It made him uneasy as he drew his now red shoe back from the spot. He looked around, but there was no way to get to that gun without stepping in the blood; there was a moat of it around the recliner. He gritted his teeth and stepped into the soaked carpet two more times. Bubbling blood pressed up as his weight pushed onto the floor. Now he was in reach of the gun. He extended his hand and wrapped it around the barrel expecting to easily pull the gun from the corpse’s hand, but the deceased man’s fingers were wrapped tightly around the handle. Eli really had to pull to get it, so much so that he pulled the body out of the chair and sent it crashing stiffly to the ground before it finally let go of its prize. In a dark way, it was like his very own protector Eli wiped the handle off on his shirt and took a moment to observe the weapon’s form.
HE LOVED THIS gun already.
“What? This thing holds seven shots instead of six? I didn’t even know they did that!” Eli said as he pressed on through the bloody carpet back to the kitchen, leaving behind sticky footprints on the white tile. He couldn’t be in the same room with that family anymore; he was beginning to feel sick. Lightheaded and trying to forget what he’d just seen, he sat down at the kitchen table and emptied the revolver. Four live bullets fell onto the table and three empty casings followed behind. He reloaded the four good bullets, left the casings on the table, and set out to explore the rest of the house, mostly to keep his mind off the massacre in the other room.
He entered the master bedroom first. There was nothing out of place, but he found some family photos that confused him. One was the father standing with his wife next to him, but in front of that were two pictures of little girls. One was obviously the child from the living room, but the other was a much younger girl, perhaps a toddler. Eli didn’t know what to make of it; so he assumed it was a “before and after” set, but having them right next to each other seemed odd somehow. He pushed on, finding a little girl’s room, which he didn’t stay in too long, a library which he was interested in, but didn’t have the time for, and then an office. Inside were plenty of gun posters and a desk with tons of paperwork on it. Eli searched around the entire office, coming up with a box with twenty-three bullets in it and another unopened box of fifty rounds. Seventy-seven bullets was nothing to sneeze at and Eli knew that. He filled the remaining three open slots of the revolver and threw the rest of the ammo in his pockets. Eli hadn’t even finished closing the cylinder before he heard a thud. There was only one other unexplored room and the sound had come from there. He closed the revolver and pulled the pin back, preparing himself to fire if he had to. Slowly he made his way to the room with the gun drawn and ready.
“Help me!” It was the voice of a child. It was faint, but he made it out. Eli was paralyzed. Was it finally another person? Another human being who didn’t wish to eat his flesh?
“I’m coming!” Eli yelled as he ran to the door.
“I’m in here!” the tiny voice called out, followed by a few coughs. Eli tried to open the door, but it had been locked with a key.
“Unlock the door!” Eli yelled through.
“I can’t reach it,” the child answered.
“Alright—stand away from the door, I’m going to have to kick it down.”
“Okay.” Eli waited a moment then forcefully kicked the thin door open, breaking the lock. The first thing Eli’s eyes locked onto was a little girl about five years old. Her, and her pale grey skin.
“Oh shit,” Eli whispered to himself just quiet enough for the girl to not hear as he stared at her dead-looking appearance.
“Hello...mister.” The words seemed to take a lot of effort to produce.
“Hey little one. What’s your name?”
“I’m Sarah, and my sister’s name is Shellie, do you know where she is?” Eli looked shocked. He thought back to the living room not even twenty feet away where Shellie and her mom and dad were lying with half a head each, and decided to play dumb.
“Uhh, I haven’t seen her. In fact, I haven’t seen any of your family. Do you know what happened to them?” Eli was hoping she didn’t.
“No, I haven’t seen them since they told me to stay in here.” Her response gave Eli a chill. Her voice was so innocent.
“Why did they lock you in here?”
“They said I was really sick, and it was for my own good.”
“Sick huh? Did they tell you what you have?” He was hoping to find out what was going on.
“They said I have a really bad cold, but I had a cold one time and this hurts so much more.”
“Bullshit! A cold? Sorry...I...I didn’t mean that.” Eli didn’t want to curse in front of the little girl, but that wasn’t the answer he was looking for, and now he had even more to deal with.
“Don’t be sorry mister. My daddy cusses all the time.” The little girl used what was left of her strength to sit up on the edge of her bed.
“Ahh, I see. Well tell me, what kind of pains do you have?”
“Well, my tummy feels like there’s something moving in there, sometimes I have, umm, really bad head hurts, and then my skin burns a lot. My mommy gave me some medicine but I don’t think it helped at all.” She tried to smile, but it was taking too much effort.
“Wow, that’s some cold. Uhh, have you slept at all?”
“Yeah, a few times since I’ve been locked in here, I’ve been too tired to play with my dolls.”
“A few times? How long have you been in here?” The little girl started counting her fingers.
“I’ve been in here for this many days.” She held up three fingers.
“Oh my god! You must need some food and water.” His eyes fired wide.
“Yes please! I already ate the snacks my parents left me.”
“I’ll be right back with some food, but you have to promise me something, alright?”
“What is it?” Her blue, trusting eyes looked to him.
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br /> “You have to promise me that you will not leave this room, okay? No matter what.” Eli was worried she would follow him and see her massacred family.
“I promise mister!” she said with great excitement. Her little face, mottled grey and mostly covered in strands of blonde hair, formed a smile. It was cute, but it was backed with so much sadness. Eli couldn’t help but grin back at her.
“And my name is Eli,” he said as he left her room and headed for the kitchen. He had to force himself not to look into the living room while he made her some SpaghettiOs he found in their cabinets. He also took one of his bottled waters out of his bag to give to her. Eli used the microwave to heat her food, as the electricity still somehow ran. A few minutes went by; the whole time Eli was thinking about what he was going to do with this little girl. He didn’t feel right leaving little Sarah behind, but he was scared she was contagious, and even if she wasn’t and she was going to be alright, she would be sure to get in his way outside or on the road. He could hardly keep himself alive; how could he care for a young one?
“Shit man, what am I supposed to do?” he asked himself aloud, but before he got any further, the microwave beeped, indicating the little girl’s gourmet meal was ready. He headed back to the room with her food and water. She was still there, sitting on the edge of her bed. Her head was hung low and her hair blocked her face. Eli was concerned. He set her water on the floor and wrapped his hands around the gun which barely fit in his front right pocket.
“That’s my daddy’s gun, huh?” Hearing her voice was startling, but it was better than the alternative.
“Uhh, I think it is. You don’t think he’ll mind if I borrow it do you?”
“I don’t know, he was always really scary about them.”
“What do you mean? How was he scary?”
“He would yell and tell me to leave him alone when I would ask about his guns.”
“Hmm, well I’m going to just borrow this one till he gets back so I can protect you with it, okay?” She nodded her head in agreement. Eli motioned towards the bed, thinking that if he was going to get infected by whatever this was, he would have been infected by now from the other encounters. He sat on her bed with her and gave over the food. She quickly started to scarf it down.
“That’s pretty hot still isn’t it?” There was steam still coming off the food.
“Nope. It’s okay. Plus, I can’t taste it anyways.” That didn’t stop her from shoving spoon after spoon of it into her mouth. Eli came to the conclusion that she was losing her ability to feel things and even losing her sense of taste.
“So, can I ask you some questions?” The little girl looked up to Eli with puzzled eyes.
“What kind of questions mister, umm, I mean, Eli?”
“I just want to know about this strange sickness and about maybe anything you’ve heard on the news. That, and tell me about anything out of the ordinary you’ve noticed recently.”
“Well, I got sick about four days ago, and my parents were really sad about it, too. I’ve had a cold before and my mommy didn’t cry so hard then. I’m not allowed to watch the TV, but my daddy watched a lot of it about a week ago. I could hear some things, like that something bad was happening. I think a lot of people were getting the cold like me.”
“A week ago, are you sure?” Eli was thinking back to the moment before he took all those pills, he was watching the news and everything seemed fine. Had Eli paid any attention to anything that the news reporter was actually saying, he would know that everything was in fact not fine.
“Ah huh,” Sarah said as she finished he bowl of noodles.
“Just how long was I out?” Eli was trying to count back to the first alarming broadcasts.
“Eli?”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“I hope Shellie doesn’t find out about these SpaghettiOs.”
“What do you mean?”
“She loves them and gets really mad when I eat them.” Her face lit up with a huge smile. Eli laughed.
“I won’t tell her if you don’t.” Eli matched her smile. Sarah giggled, but before long she gripped her stomach.
“Owww!”
“What is it?”
“My tummy is hurting again.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t think so, my mommy just told me to sleep when the pain came back.”
“You want me to let you sleep?” Eli put his hand on her moist head and gave it a little rub.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Feel better, okay?”
“I’ll try.” She forced a smile. Eli got up and moved towards the door.
“Let me know if you need anything, alright?” He felt bad leaving her, but what was there to do?
“Eli?” She stopped him right at the doorway.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for protecting me.” Eli smiled, and a tear formed in his eye. He choked back the feelings and responded, “You’re welcome Sarah, and thank you for being so strong and helping me learn about what’s going on.” He closed her door behind him and nearly broke down.
“You’re welcome,” he heard her whisper from the other side of the door. Eli made his way to the father’s office and sat down in the plush leather chair behind the desk, facing the door to the room. A window was directly behind him. He held back the tears as he placed the gun on the table before him.
“What is going on? What should I do? What can I do?” Eli was lost, and besides the kindergartener in the other room, who was sure to turn into whatever those creatures were at any moment, he had no one to help him.
BEFORE ELI GOT too deep into this depressing scenario and was swallowed whole by the darkness around him, he noticed the open closet he had been rummaging through earlier. He saw fresh clean clothes hanging up, which looked about his size. He looked down at his blood-stained, smelly, thoroughly upsetting outfit.
“Look good, feel good, play good,” he whispered. It was something his coach said to him the day they got new uniforms. He stood up and made his way to the closet. Luck was in his favor for once; the clothes were exactly the right size. After a few minutes of trying on items and throwing them on the floor, he made his new outfit. He finished with an expensive, crimson short sleeve shirt, khaki hiker shorts with deep pockets, and even a new pair of gleaming white Nike running shoes. His filthy blonde hair was getting way too long, and he felt like he’d dropped about ten pounds since he left Denver, putting him at around one-eighty, but when he looked in the full length mirror on the closet doors, he liked what he saw. It would be hard to argue that he was wearing fall clothing for Maine, but he did live in Colorado; the cold was no stranger to him.
“This shirt will mask the blood alright, but these shoes...they won’t stay clean for long.” He smiled in the mirror, admiring his own joke. At that moment, a wave of hunger and sleepiness hit him at the same time, and they both hit hard. Eli made his way back to the kitchen, heated another can of sweet pasta circles and returned to the cozy leather chair where he finished his bowl and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Ten
HOURS FLEW BY as Eli managed to get some good shuteye. That is, until he was awakened by a solid slap to the face. He jolted awake and tried to stand up, his heart pounding. Before he got on his feet, two strong hands pushed him by the shoulders back into his seat.
“See Cleetus, I told you he was still alive.”
“You sure did Ray. It sure is good to see someone who ain’t dead or a walking mushroom.”
“Who the hell are you two?” Eli yelled at the large man in front of him. He was bald and wore a white wife beater and blue jeans. His beer gut was pushing the limit of that undershirt. Eli quickly noticed the blood stains on the shirt.
“You ain’t in no position to ask no questions, are you boy?” the man with the great name, Cleetus, asked in his thick southern accent. Eli couldn’t see who was holding him down yet, but he could see that it was daytime, as light was shining through
the window behind him.
“What do you reckon we do with him, Cleetus?”
“Do with me? What the hell do you mean?” Eli tried to struggle his way out of the man’s grip, but it wasn’t going to happen. Cleetus raised his hand and very forcefully slapped Eli across the face again, busting his lip with a smack that echoed through the house.
“What did I tell you about asking them questions? Damn son, now you hurt my hand with your face.” Eli quickly realized he was in a bad spot. The man holding him down was laughing.
“So boy, what’s your name?” Eli was hesitant to answer, but Cleetus nodded at him, ensuring it was okay to speak.
“My name is Eli,” he muttered out like a scared puppy.
“Well howdy there, little Eli. As you may have noticed, my name is Cleetus, and that big fella behind you’s name is Ray.”
“Present,” Ray said.
“I have a few questions for you, boy. And I reckon you better answer them right.”
“Like what?”
“Well first of all, was it you who butchered that poor little church family in the other room?”
“No, they were like that when I found them. In fact, it was a family-style suicide.” Talking about the massacre reminded him of the gun, and he quickly looked down at the desk. The gun had been removed.
“You looking for this?” Cleetus held the gun up, then pointed it at Eli.
“Uhh...yeah, yeah I was.” He felt defeated.
“Well thank you very kindly Eli. This here’s mine now, but back to the questions.”
“Cleetus, quit playing, let’s just kill him and take his stuff already. We need to get moving,” Ray interrupted.
“Shut your damn mouth, Ray. Can’t you see I’m speaking with young Eli? Show some darn manners.” Ray minded and remained quiet.
