by D.R. Johnson
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Moments slipped by before I remembered to breathe. My heart was slamming against my chest, and I couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing through my ears. I remained frozen, not wanting to make any sudden movements. The creature wasn't moving either. I was disturbed by its closeness and the way it was staring at me. The red eyes were focused on mine, but I didn't see any calculation beyond that.
I slowly released my grasp on the drawer with my right hand and reached for my knife. Feeling the handle in my palm calmed me, and my ragged breathing began to steady. The adrenaline that was rushing through my body was already doing its work on my stomach, making me feel nauseated.
The freak had on a classy, rust-colored dress, or at least what was left of it. Although her hair had thinned, a butterfly clip managed to dangle precariously from the strands still attached to her scalp. She wasn't terribly dirty either, aside from the dried blood on her hands. It was obvious the blood came from the sores and scars running up and down her forearms. All these were clues that she had not been mobile these past few years.
Mentally, I berated myself over being so careless. She had to have been here on my first sweep a few weeks ago, and I had somehow missed her. I broke one of my own rules as I had assumed everything was clear. I should have done another sweep of the house before turning my back on it. It was sloppy.
The opening and closing of the door must have alerted her, and she came to investigate the noise. That is, as much as freaks could investigate things. That meant she came over to stand and stare blankly, and judging by past observations, she would continue to stand there until something else pulled her away. I figured some freaks would be standing still until the end of time, like this one surely would have done if I had not come in to interrupt her.
Standing where she was, she blocked me into the small, boxed kitchen, and I couldn't edge around her without touching her. I didn't want to find out what would happen if I did brush against her. I had spent enough time freak-watching that I knew they all didn't react the same way. Some let themselves be jostled around, but others would snap and bite at those that ran into them. I wasn't really looking forward to finding out what type of freak this one was.
I could take the chance that she was docile and push her aside. On the other hand, if she wasn't docile, then I would be in a difficult position if she attacked. I would be too close to counterattack, and at too awkward of an angle to block. If I chose to kill her, she would smell the whole place up as she was rotting.
Softly, I exhaled. The sound was enough to cause a reaction in the freak. As if my exhalation was a cue, she started swaying back and forth, her body rocking to an unheard tempo. Her mouth started working, opening up slightly only to close back down again but never closing all the way. She looked like a fish. That was disconcerting to say the least.
I was still trying to decide what my best option would be when she took a shambling step closer. My body reacted as if it was spring loaded, my mind only processing action with no time to think things through. I stepped forward, dropping the drawer and unsheathing my Bowie knife all in one smooth motion. I fully intended to stab upward, my target being the soft flesh where her chin met her neck and drive the blade into her brain.
I didn't count on the freak reacting to my attack. Hissing, she rushed forward to meet me as her arms came up. That startled me, fear blooming in my gut because this was different. Normally the freaks didn't react when I attacked them, but this one did. Her movement threw off my aim and the blade sliced into her cheek and was pushed backward to cut into her scalp. The sharp knife separated the skin from her skull, and her ear flapped to the side, no longer connected to her head.
She didn't seem to notice.
Warm blood squirted onto my hand and spewed across the cabinets, and countertops. She came at me again, her red eyes locked onto mine. Her mouth continued to make that gnawing motion as she tried to lodge her teeth into any part of me. Flashbacks from before I was bitten raged into my mind then. This was the first time I'd been full-on attacked by one of these freaks since the change.
I grabbed her by the neck with my free hand and was able to stab her in the stomach, doing my best to ignore the hands that were clawing at my face. She was able to get a few good swipes at me, and it forced me backwards to the sink. The blood that was pooling on the tile floor had created a slick mess, and she slipped as she advanced, falling hard.
These creatures lacked grace. Her head lashed to the side, cracking against the cabinet on her way down. She collapsed to her stomach, obviously dazed by the blow, and I wasted no time stepping on her back to pin her to the floor. Holding her in place, I stabbed the blade into her neck.
She struggled against me, and for a while I didn't think I would be able to hold her. Slowly, her struggles died down as the pool of blood beneath her grew. She was dying, even though she couldn't feel it. Minutes passed before she finally lay still.
Panting, I pulled myself to my feet, leaving bloody smears along the countertops. Face-eaters were stronger than humans, and this fight had zapped all my strength. I took in the gore splattered around me, on me, and knew this was a particularly sloppy kill. I had let myself get caught completely off guard, and had no idea what her motivation for attack had been. It had all happened so fast. I had no idea if she was just reacting to my attack, wanting a quick bite to eat, or was going into a frenzy.
Did she frenzy?
More questions and worries instantly plagued my mind. What if my immunity was wearing off? What if the freaks were evolving into something else? If I became a target again, I was in one of the worst places I could possibly be. I swallowed hard, finding that my resolve to leave this place was absolute now. I had to get my belongings together and get back on the road as soon as possible.
"Bitch," I said out loud, surprised at how raspy my voice sounded. It felt appropriate. The blood was soaking into her rust colored dress, making the scene look even more macabre. She looked like she was shrouded in blood. I wiped my knife clean on a patch of fabric, and grabbed my pack. There was no point saving the contents of the drawer. I left it all where it had scattered as the blood pooled around it.
I grumbled to myself, deciding to go through the rest of the house quickly to see if I could find anything useful. I decided not to sheath my knife. I got caught off guard once today and wasn't about to let it happen again.
Creeping down the hallway after clearing the living room, I paused at the first closed door. I remembered what was in that room from the first time I was in the house. I had opened the door to see a crib and little bones, and immediately shut the door again. Maybe that creeper had been in there and that was how I had missed her? But the door was still shut, and I had yet to witness one of them operate something as simple as a doorknob.
My heartbeat speed up again as I gripped the doorknob. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, and listened. Nothing.
But I couldn't do it.
I looked down at my fingers curled around the knob and let go. That door could stay shut.
Moving on to the second bedroom, which had been turned into a sewing room, I fussed at myself again for being sloppy. I figured living here for so long was starting to have its effects on me, and I would be a sitting duck out there if I didn't get it together.
Shaking it off, I explored the sewing room, grabbing some needles, thread and a few swatches of fabric. I had never learned how to sew but this stuff might prove valuable for trades. I quickly riffled through the dresser drawers and found a pair of scissors, another useful item that would come in handy.
Suddenly, a stereo blared to life somewhere in the house as the lights flickered on. My stomach did flip-flops as it took a second for my addled mind to grasp what happened.
The electricity was pulsing through the neighborhood again, as it did almost daily. There were no radio stations anymore, so this freak had been listening to a god-awful CD when the world went to hell. This would not have been the last thing I'
d have wanted to hear on my way out.
No, I don’t want to be a big rockstar. I thought as I huffed and tried to steady my jumpy nerves.
I had my own little stash of CD's back at the house for the few hours out of the day I was able to listen. This one would not be going back with me.
Grumbling about the timing of it all, I gave the room one last look. Satisfied with my find, I moved on to clear the master bedroom. There were plenty of clothes here I could find some use for, but with the supercenter so close, I would pass this up for new stuff. Bringing items into settlements that still had tags on them could sometimes prove to be a huge bonus.
Three years ago, I would have thought I hit the jackpot, but now I knew there were tons of places like this. Guarded by freaks, it was difficult and deadly for others to scavenge but wide open for me. I was always able to stock up on fairly good gear whenever I needed and hadn't been truly desperate in a long while. The thought nagged at me that my good fortune might be coming to an end as I considered what had happened with the freak in the kitchen.
I paused, replaying the quick fight in my mind. Had she really jumped at me as a reaction to my attack or was she already attacking before I moved? I couldn't remember. Even though the memory was fresh, it had happened so quickly. Everything was jammed together in my head and it was making me second-guess what I thought happened. These freaks didn't have the greatest of response times unless they were frenzied. It was easy for me to out maneuver them, but her quick reaction had me baffled.
How? I thought to myself, bewildered. I chewed on my bottom lip in contemplation, staring back towards the kitchen. Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to be back in my own house and away from this freak forced my feet to move. I grabbed the books I'd come for and decided I wouldn't be coming back here. I had to push her body out of the way to get to the back door. When she moaned, I jumped. I guess she wasn't quite dead yet.
I threw my pack over my shoulder, the weight bogging me down. The anxiety inside me grew as I opened the door on the two freaks that stood in the backyard, half expecting them to rush me. There was no change in their behavior. They continued to stand silently and stare at nothing, much the same as they had been doing when I first passed them.
I decided to leave the back door open and let the birds have the body at least. It would help with the rotting process anyway. Making my way back to my house wasn't easy with the books. Books were heavy, and I wouldn't be able to travel with them on foot when I left. As long as I had made the correct adjustments to that new SUV, a dark blue Murano that I’d pushed into the garage, I wouldn't have to worry about that for a while.
Even packing the Murano full, there would be a lot I'd have to leave behind, even some of the books. That thought made me sad because I loved them. I read so many of them myself, I didn't want to part with even one, but that wasn't practical.
There were other things that I was reluctant to leave behind. Creature comforts mostly. If I weren’t so nervous about staying here, this neighborhood would be able to sustain me for years. Even as it occurred to me, I knew that thought was a ridiculous notion. I wouldn't find any answers here.
Making my way back to my house, I remained nervous and jumpy each time I found myself close to a face-eater. I really was expecting another attack, but I managed to make it back without incident. Once I was safely behind my locked doors, the threat seemed to diminish in my mind.
I trudged up the stairs to one of the bedrooms I used as storage, and let the pack slide from my shoulders to thump on the floor. I was exhausted.
Turning, I caught my reflection in the mirror and groaned at myself. I was a bloody mess, nearly covered from head to toe. There was even a long scratch down my cheek where the freak had caught me with her claws. I rolled my eyes at my reflection as I left the room.
Back down stairs, I tested the hall light to make sure the electricity was still on. Some days it would last for a few hours, and other days it would only flash on for a few minutes. I began to notice that there were more and more days when it didn't come on at all. I wouldn't be surprised if there came a day when it never came back on.
I had turned off all the lights, and unplugged all the appliances not long after I had moved in here. I was getting tired of jumping every time the electronics roared to life. The only two things I left hooked up was a light in my bedroom and the fancy electric hot water heater.
I always showered in the downstairs bathroom because of the huge window that would let in plenty of light if the electricity shut off mid shower. That had actually happened more than once. At least the water kept flowing for a little bit.
Letting the water run for about a minute, I watched as the steam pooled overhead. Stripping off my soiled clothes and tossing them to the floor, I was going to let myself enjoy this. I set my knife in easy reach, just in case, before stepping into the cascading water.
I had plenty of shampoo and conditioner, as that is one of the necessities I had stocked up on over the past few months. I even had plenty of different fragrances to choose from when it came to body wash.
The soup washed the blood and dirt away, and I watched the pink suds swirl down the drain. For a brief moment, the smell of lavender enveloped me, and I could pretend I was home.
Then the tears came.
Chapter 2 - Joss
