by Travis Tufo
“Oh damn, I ruined my whole sleep schedule.” He practiced sarcasm even when he was alone. Before he could muster out any more one-liners, his stomach made a ferocious growl at him. It had been much longer than it should have been since he last ate.
“Hmm. Hunger really is a design flaw in humans. We should have evolved past this by now.” He jumped up and the soreness hit him hard. It nearly knocked him back to his couch. He took a few deep breaths and pushed the idea of pain out of his mind, he was talented like that; pain was merely a nuisance to him that he could usually dismiss. He made his way to his kitchen. He swung open his fridge to find nothing but moldy old food as the house had been without power for a while now. The smell, which would have made most vomit on the spot, had no effect on him. He went to the pantry, where he found some crackers and peanut butter. It wasn’t much, but it was good enough for him. After indulging, he realized that was all the food he had left. He growled, got up from his table, and went to look out the window. He couldn’t see anything.
“Perfect time to shop I suppose.” He shut his shades and headed back over to his old couch. He ripped off one of the cushions, revealing a hatchet, among other weapons. He grabbed it and held it in the air, observing it. It was a black metal hatchet with a wooden handle. It was expensive, one of those good tree cutting hatchets. The only reason David had it was because he had stolen it off a man while his dogs tore the guy and his family apart.
“This will do.” He settled on his weapon of choice. Then, before he made it to the front door, he found the clothes he was in to be inadequate for the job. He stripped from his black trench coat and trip pants and put on some type of metal band tee shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He stripped all the way down to his skin; he was stained from all the blood that had splashed against his body during his kills. It was highlighted against his pale skin. To top off his fresh new outfit he grabbed another black coat. This one had a hood which he flipped up, then headed out the door. David took this trip a little differently than he usually took his trips. Instead of running around screaming and slaughtering everything, he played it safe and kept to the shadows, much like the trio of friends heading in the opposite direction. He traveled all over that side of Portland, not really having any specific place in mind. Part of his goal was looking for supplies, but another part seemed to be about having an adventure.
For an hour and a half, David just wandered around, looking for nothing in particular. Eventually, he did find something a few miles from home. He managed to stumble into another little housing community. It seemed even darker there than where he lived, yet it was more active. He could hear the shuffling of infected dragging their feet looking for someone to eat, and the moans of the previously living. He couldn’t spot anything in the dark except a small light in the window of a house down the street. Once he saw that light, he locked onto it and focused on it like it was the answer to everything. He was like a moth to a flame, except that this moth thrived on killing the flame, instead of self-inflicting brain damage with it. David could sense someone in that house; he gripped his hatchet tighter and gave a slight grin through his torn lips. He arrived and lurked around the home, inspecting each window to see if he could find any signs of life. Each window was boarded up, so he saw nothing on the first floor. He did manage to find a cellar door on the back side of the house. It had a padlock on it, but it would take a lot more than that to stop David from getting his fix of blood. He knew that if he broke the lock it would cause too much noise and it would alert the residents inside. Instead, he used the blade of the hatchet to pry off the screws holding down the lock. It made a bit of noise, but it wasn’t anything to hear from inside the home.
“Too easy.” His evil smile nearly illuminated the night. He pulled one of the cellar doors back—it creaked the whole way. He stood there staring down the black stairs into the basement.
“The hunt begins,” he whispered into the cold night. Then he took a slow, silent, sinister plunge into the basement. It was hard to see, but David managed to avoid bumping into the furniture or anything else in the basement. It was like he had eyes made for hunting in the dark. Eventually he came across a set of stairs leading to the main floor. Slowly, he climbed the stairs, never making a sound. As he reached the top, he could hear some whispering. It didn’t alarm him like it would have anyone else in his position; instead, it excited him. The quiet exchanging of words might have made anyone else’s heart beat rapidly, fearing discovery, but David’s heart beat rapidly because he envisioned himself preventing them from ever exchanging words again. He heard them speak some more; he didn’t know what they were saying, but it gave him a good feeling. It was like the feeling you get after a good stretch. He loved it, he soaked in their whispers and cherished the fact that there was most definitely more than one person here. He gripped his hatchet even tighter, nearly warping the wooden handle. He took no time opening the door and flying into the middle of the floor. Once there, he looked around and saw the front door and back door were blocked with couches and chairs.
“Good thing I took the cellar door,” he whispered to himself so quietly he wondered if the words even left his mind. He spent no time looking for supplies or valuables, he knew exactly what he was there for and he headed straight for the last staircase leading up, where he had seen the candle light. When he reached the stairs he nearly fell right into the trap that the owners had left. Scattered across the stairs were knives stuck deep into the wood. David had lifted his foot right over one and felt the tip of it across his boot.
“Clever.” He then took his time aiming his steps well and avoiding any danger. He passed the obstacles with relative ease and came face to face with a door that had light shining from its cracks. The whispers were much louder now. He stood there and let them speak, absorbing their exchanging of words and deciphering who they were. He was able to learn a lot about who was on the other side just by their voices. He picked up that there were two girls on the other side, a mother and her daughter. “She can’t be older than ten,” he thought to himself, “maybe even younger.”
“Knock knock.” David had learned enough about the two and finally decided to make his presence known. The two voices shut right off.
“Kameron? Kameron, is that you?” the older woman asked. David pondered how to respond for just a moment.
“Yes, it’s me, but shush!” He deepened his voice while also whispering to hide his real identity. It worked, much to his surprise. He then heard excitement in the room and the older woman got up and rushed to the door.
“Kameron I missed you so much, I was starting to wonder if you’d come back, but I knew you’d make it, it’s like you were made for this.” The woman softened her voice, and started to unlock the three locks holding the door shut. A huge smile lit up the beautiful mother’s face on the other side of the door. At that same moment an even larger, more sinister smile crept onto David’s face. She opened the door and it didn’t take long for that smile packed full of excitement to dissipate into fear. Before she could mutter anything from her terrified throat, or even slam the door, David rushed to her and took her to the ground. He hung his grinning mouth over hers as he forced her arms against the ground. Leaning into her terrified face he whispered, “Would you like to play with me?” His smile bent back to his ears. She screamed, and before anything else could happen, he heard a little voice.
“Get off of my mommy!” David looked up in a hurry to see a little girl no older than five, in her pajamas.
“Oh lucky me! I bet you like games, huh little one?”
“Don’t you speak to my daughter you freak!” the still pinned-down mother screamed in his face. She then spit right below his left eye. He wiped the spit off his face, and with the same hand, he slapped the mom right across her face. The impact was loud and instantly brought the little girl to tears. It ripped a little cut open on the woman’s cheek.
“Nooo!” the little one cried.
“Now, now missy, I was just teaching
your mother some manners before we start our little game. Now, you two are related, which makes this all the better.” David got up and allowed the mother to rush back to her daughter, embracing her in a tight hug.
“Now, mommy, tell me, what is your name?” David watched as the woman wiped the tears from her daughter’s eyes before she wiped her own blood off her face.
“You shut your damn mouth and get the hell out of here before my husband comes and rips you apart, you animal! You’re sick, you know that? The world goes to shit and people like you do things like this to a woman and her child? A child!” David listened to every word she said, and it almost looked like it was making sense to him.
“Your husband isn’t coming for you,” he said. Her eyes widened.
“What did you do to Kameron?” She was screaming her lungs out.
“Oh, I didn’t have to do anything. He was a smart man, I’m sure. He left at the first real chance he got. You two, you’re just dead weight to him. Now he isn’t feeding two more mouths or keeping after the weak.”
“Leave right now…” She made a motion towards something on the floor where her daughter and she had been sitting before David entered the room. He observed, never standing more than four feet away from them.
“I suggest you don’t make your next move, mommy,” David said as he lifted his hatchet, which hung at his side. The mother came up from the ground with a handgun and started to swing it David’s way. Before the barrel of the gun ever became a danger to him, the blade of his hatchet was deep inside her forearm. The metal broke through both bones in her forearm and the snapping excited David. Goosebumps rocketed over his body.
“Poor decision.” The gun dropped from her hand and she let out a scream that would curdle blood. David then cocked back and with one massive punch to the temple, knocking her to the ground. As she fell, her head connected with the window sill, knocking her out.
“That worked well,” David said as he watched the mother lying unconscious on the floor. The whole time, the little girl was bawling her eyes out and screaming up a storm.
“You! Shut your trap! The infected will surely get us if you don’t,” he warned. She continued weeping anyway. David grabbed a cloth napkin from the floor and shoved it nearly down her throat. The only noise the girl was making then was her struggling to breathe through her nose and still sobbing at the same time. He picked up and tossed the little girl onto the bed in the barely candle lit room and averted his gaze back to the mom.
“All you had to do was give me a name, lady.” He reached down and wrapped a hand around the axe handle. He gave a good tug, but the hatchet was deep in there and the bones were pinching the metal head in place. He grabbed it with both hands and pulled harder, to the point he was pulling her entire body around the room by the handle.
“Worthless! That’s what you are! Arghhh!” he yelled. “You two have been nothing but trouble!” He pointed at the little girl, who quaked in fear at his temper.
“I just wanted to play!” He started to thrash around the room, throwing furniture and smashing glass objects. Then the mother finally woke up. At first she was in a daze, but one look at her arm and the screaming started again. She flung around on the ground. David could hear infected outside starting to get interested.
“Shut your whore mouth! You’ll have us all killed!” She only screamed louder. David’s face grew serious.
“You dug your own grave woman.” He grabbed a candle and set it against the curtain. Within seconds nearly the entire curtain was aflame. The mother acted quickly though. She got up and rushed at David, sending a shoulder into him and knocking him down the stairs. He was impaled by many of the sharp objects stuck in their steps. The mother then ripped the curtain down with her good hand and stomped it out before the fire could spread.
“Honey, where’s mommy’s gun?” The woman dropped to the darkened floor and felt around for her gun, which was nowhere to be found. She searched for as long as she could before she felt like she had no other choice.
“Stay here baby. I’ll be right back.” She ran out of the room and down the hall to her husband’s gun room, never checking the stairs for David. Inside the gun room she placed her back against the wall, a metal magazine for a handgun in her mouth, and pulled at the hatchet. Her teeth bit down so hard on the magazine that it bent and her teeth cracked, but the hatchet came out, and with the metal leaving her arm, so did a flow of blood. She felt woozy, but within mere seconds she was back in the bedroom with a loaded shotgun. The only difference in the bedroom however, was that her daughter wasn’t there.
“Cara! Cara, no!” She frantically looked around the room for her, but with no luck. She exited the room, only able to hold the shotgun in one arm.
“Give me back my daughter you monster!” she yelled into the pitch black house. She could hear infected pounding against the house outside. A window downstairs shattered as an infected hit it hard enough, the wooden barricade was still up, but the sound caught her off guard. As she was looking down the stairs, David saw this and took it as a prime time to strike. He emerged from right behind her from the bathroom that was right next to the bedroom.
“I’m no monster…” he said as he rushed to her, young Cara right behind him as he ran to her mother. In his hands was the toilet tank lid, a heavy rectangle of shining white porcelain. The mother turned too late and felt the smack of the porcelain crack across her face as she spun around to meet David. As the hard material shattered her skull, she fell backwards, squeezing the trigger of her gun as she fell onto the sharp spikes coming from the stairs. The gunshot nearly deafened David, but it didn’t hit him. He looked back to Cara however, who had been hit hard by the spread of the many pellets of birdshot. She screamed and fell to the ground. Her entire left arm had been peppered in tiny little metal beads. Blood oozed from her wounds, just as blood seeped from David’s legs where he had been impaled by the stairs, and blood poured from the now deceased mother’s corpse, nailed to the stairs with a broken face.
“…I’m the judge,” he told her broken corpse. He then looked to Cara, who was giving it everything she had not to let the pain take over her body and pass out.
“You are a strong little girl, aren’t you?” David knelt down and pulled the cloth from her mouth. Immediately she started to cry and whine. David stood up and extended an arm as if to help her.
“I know you are young, but right now, right here, you are about to make the most important choice of your life. Stay here with your dead mother and accept the slow painful death of the infection. Or take my hand and live out your life with me spreading justice across this forsaken land.” The girl looked down the stairs to her mother, lifeless and without hope. Then she looked to David’s hand, which to her at the time, was a symbol of nothing more than hope. She wrapped her tiny little hand around his.
“Good choice little one. Or should I say Cara?” He picked her up and carried her with him, right out of the house and back down to the basement. Before he could carry her out the cellar door she stopped him.
“Wait.”
“What is it little one?” She pointed to a pile of buckets and boxes. It was food, and a lot of it.
“Very good.” He let her down to grab two large buckets by their handles. Each contained over 20,000 calories worth. He then saw a wheelbarrow which he used to take three more of the buckets. He exited the home pushing the wheelbarrow overflowing with mostly nonperishable food and a little girl sitting atop holding a stuffed bear in her one functioning arm. She must have been deep in shock because she was no longer crying. They managed to sneak past the infected around them as they were too preoccupied trying to get inside the home. The two headed out in a direction even David was unsure of.
“Let’s go find ourselves somewhere else to play. How does that sound, Cara?” He looked to her, and she managed to push a smile out past all the pain she was in. It was a strange thing for this young girl to give into David so easily, but she knew she had nothing left at
home and that David could provide her with some type of protection and stability.
“Good.” He smiled back and just kept pushing on.
“Perhaps we should check out New Hampshire? I heard there was a mass evacuation to that place.”
“I always wanted to go there!” She made the decision final.
“Good! And plenty more people to steal the life from,” he whispered under his breath so quietly that Cara couldn’t hear.
Chapter Twenty
ELI AND THE group had been on the trail of the man driving the truck for the last few days. They were far out of Portland and were entering a dense woodland area. Thick trees were the only thing they had seen for the last few hours. They managed to stay safe and were able to sleep outside in makeshift tents for the last few nights, finding just enough food to make it; not by much, but they were surviving.
“I think we lost this guy a long time ago,” Aurora said. Her leg was getting better, but her attitude was destined to be dark forever.
“Why? Why would you even say that?” Eli was ticked off by her statement. They were all on edge.
“Look around us Eli! We are in the middle of a damn forest. We aren’t even near the main road anymore.”
“Look at what we are standing on!” he answered. “This is a path was left by a vehicle, and it looks pretty damn fresh if you ask me.” Eli pointed down to two long tire marks winding through the woods.
“Eli, you know this is Maine right? Everyone and their damned mother rides a four wheeler through the woods. I am more than positive that this is just another quad trail.”
