Before I pulled the trigger back all the way Dean jumped up and slammed a knife through the infected’s head. He pulled it out as the infected fell to the ground dead. He jumped back as another infected took the first’s place. I ground my teeth in frustration. I almost frigging shot him! What an idiot! He jumped forward again and repeated the process.
I rushed over to help him, slamming my pistol back into its holster while tugging on my knife with my other hand. Together we slowly killed the group that had formed around the door. As each one fell, the next one would take its place. Trying desperately to get to us. As I killed the last one, Dean turned around and smirked at me. This time it was devoid of all humor. I stepped back and wiped the blood off my hand onto my pants. “See sweetheart, no wasted bullets.”
I could feel my anger rising, like bile. I shoved my knife back into its holster and stomped up to Dean. He turned to face me all the way. I didn’t care that I was looking up at him, I didn’t care that he outweighed me by a good hundred pounds. “You are the biggest idiot I have ever met.” I addressed Dean. I tried to keep my voice level when I really wanted to scream. “Don’t you know anything about line of fire? I could have shot you. In fact, I almost did shoot you. Announce when you’re going to do something stupid next time. Got it, you moron.” He had at least the decency to look slightly abashed.
I pulled the door open and grimaced when the bodies fell onto my feet. Ignoring both of them and the sounds my shoes were making as I climbed over the pile of bodies. I growled to myself. Every time we start to get along great, he has to go and do something stupid like that. I could have shot him! And then what would he have done? I stepped out into the hallway, sliding down the other side of the bodies and turned towards where I thought the stairway would be. There was a faint clicking sound coming from my left, almost like someone was jiggling jewelry of some kind. I pulled my pistol out and walked slowly towards it. My gun felt secure in my grasp. It was comforting. I knew I could handle anything with my gun. Every step I took the sound got louder. I stopped to look at the door of the room we had originally been in. It was cracked and a piece was missing from the center of the door. I could see the fire crackling merrily in the fire place. It’ll burn out quickly enough. Across the hall from me was one other door. We were at the very end of the hall. Stupid decision to camp here, never ever camp in a dead end. You always needed a backup plan. We would have been better off if they had chosen something more towards the middle, better chances of escaping that way. There was so much that these guys needed to learn.
The last door on the right was cracked open slightly. The clicking noise was definitely coming from in there. I inched my way to the door. I stood in front of the door and kicked it open. Nothing moved. I inched my way in. My eyes constantly roaming, looking for anything that might be a threat. The room was dark except from where the sunlight streamed in. There was nothing moving that would be causing the ticking noise. Maybe it was just a clock? In fact why am I being stupid? I don’t need to know why there’s a strange noise coming from here. It wasn’t affecting me. This is how people died. I just needed to go. We needed to move out of here. I left the room and backed out in the hallway. I shook my head slightly and lowered my gun. I looked up to see the two men standing uncertainly in the hallway near the pile of bodies. For being fully grown men who claimed that they had either been in the military or the sciences they got their feelings hurt awfully easy.
I put my gun back into its holster and slowly walked back down the hallway. The clicking behind me got louder. I turned around to see an infected exit the room. Everything slowed down to individual frames. It jerked its arms and the ticking intensified. I saw why. It had a pair of handcuffs attached to its wrist. As I was comprehending that it looked like someone had unlocked them, it jumped at me. It pushed me down onto the floor. The wind getting knocked out of my lungs. It snapped its jaws at me and I had to use one hand on its throat while the other was on its chest. It took everything I had to just hold it off of me. Before the change he had been a big guy, way too much fast food. It had a beer gut that could rival Santa. With him straddling my waist I couldn’t reach for any of my weapons, my gun or my knife. I had to use both of my arms to hold him off of me. He used his hands to try and pull my arms away from him but I refused to let go. I looked to my left and there was a 2x4 laying on the ground. I let go of his chest and reached for the wood. My fingertips barely touched it. I cried out in frustration. I couldn’t help it. He batted my hand away and he collapsed on top of me. I screamed.
I pushed him to the side of me and sat up, I tried to back away but he grabbed onto my pants pulling me back. He punched me in the side of the head and grabbed my shoulders while opening his mouth to rip into me. I closed my eyes knowing that there was nothing I could do. A blinding pain went through my right shoulder and his weight was gone. I opened my eyes and he was laying in front of me with a neat little hole in his throat that dark red blood was pulsing through. He was shaking and convulsing on the ground. Someone grabbed me from behind and wrapped their arm around my chest, grasping my shoulder. I screamed. What felt like a needle was shoved into the side of my throat and cold fluid was pushed in.
I reared back my elbow and connected flesh. The man grunted, I could only guess it was a man because of how big he felt. His grip loosened on me and I ripped free of his grasp. I rolled away and came up crouched. I pulled my pistol out instinctively. There were several men standing in the hallway. Dean and Richard were already lying unconscious on the ground with their hands and feet in the process of being tied. Those that weren’t busy with them aimed their weapons at me.
My right arm, specifically my shoulder was in complete pain, and I could feel warm blood oozing out of the wound. My shoulder was sending radiating pain out of it all the way up into my skull. It was a different pain than from the episode I had a just two days ago. The one that had grabbed me held up his arms in what I could imagine was a happy gesture on his part. “Relax boys, I got her already. She’ll feel it momentarily.”
“Feel what?” To my horror my words came out slurred. My brain felt like it was being filled up with fog and cotton. I couldn’t think straight. My brain kept wandering off of track, I couldn’t keep a straight line of thought. Just to keep my eyes open was getting hard. I shook my head and stood with my back against the wall. The man who stabbed me with whatever it was stood with me. I tried to run but my feet didn’t get the message. I took two steps before I lost all semblance of balance and fell. I caught myself with my hands and the impact on my right shoulder made me cry out. I rolled over and landed on my back. Their faces surrounded me and I faded to darkness.
Chapter eleven… Seriously, this is actually happening
I slowly swam towards consciousness. I tried to open my eyes but as soon as I opened them the light streaming in from the window pierced them like lasers being beamed into my skull. My neck was full of knots and stiff as a board. I closed my eyes and turned my head away from the blinding light, my neck protesting the entire way. I couldn’t help the small moan of pain that escaped my mouth. My head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, my brain felt slow and sluggish. If I didn’t fight it, I felt like I could be pulled back under and just sleep whatever nightmare this was away. I needed to move, I needed to get the blood pumping. I tried to move my hands but they felt stiff. Unnaturally stiff while the rest of my body felt strangely numb except for my right shoulder. It was on fire. It felt like it quite was literally on fire. I pulled on my left arm to rub the sleep from my eyes but it wouldn’t move. All sense of drowsiness was thrown out of my body when I realized all four of my limbs had been tied to a chair, with a piece of rope wrapped around my chest. I sat there a moment in shock. How did I not realize I was sitting in a chair? What did they shoot me with?
I tried to sit forward but the ropes were so tight that I couldn’t move anything an inch. Dammit, how could I let myself get stuck like this? I looked up around me, struggling to push my panic down.
It was similar to the room that I had woken up in this morning? Or was it yesterday? I didn’t know. I had to try to fight the panic that was threatening to overwhelm me. It was bubbling up from my stomach, threatening to overflow. I was going to throw up. I hate throwing up. I hate it. I took a deep breath and pushed it down. I did it again and again until my stomach had stopped rolling enough that I felt like I could focus without blowing chunks. Ok Alice. Good news you’re still alive. Very good considering the circumstance. Bad news, eh I don’t even want to touch that right now. I bit down on my lip and pulled even harder on the ropes, even with my bad shoulder. I had to stop after only moments of pulling on it, the pain was almost blinding. I turned my head to look at it. If I could just see what was wrong with it maybe just maybe the pain would start to subside. My t-shirt that I was wearing was black, faded but it was still black. Even though it was black I could see the dried blood that had ran clear down my side, my shirt was clinging to me but it was dry. Stiff but dry. The bleeding must have stopped but how much blood did I lose before it did? There was a small hole on the front side of it and I was betting that there was an identical hole on the back. Small and circular. No wonder why it hurt as bad as it did. It’d been a long time since I had been shot.
“Bastards shoot me, the least they can do is clean it.” I whispered. My gaze moved down to my hand. It was tied with rope and it was tight enough that there was no way I was getting out of it, it was almost tight enough that it was cutting the circulation off. I let my head fall back only to end up staring at the ceiling. I took a deep breath in, then let it out. Think calmly. Don’t let the panic or fear eat you up, remember what Dad would say. Fear makes you stupid. I slowly relaxed every muscle in my body, starting with my fingers and moving all the way down to my toes until I was completely relaxed or as relaxed as I could get without moving. I forced myself to slow down my breathing, to take slow deep breaths. I wouldn’t lose control here. I may not be able to act physically but I could try to make a plan.
Outside the room someone walked by, their footsteps booming along the floor. Gruff male voices floated in, they didn’t bother with keeping their voices down.
“They still out?”
“The girl should be, but the other two aren’t. You really think this chick is the one Vince was describing?”
“Hell, if I know. She fits the description but half the women left in the world fit it.”
I held my breath listening.
“Well if she is then we got a big ol’ payment coming our way.” Someone yelled in pain, pausing the conversation momentarily. “Let me guess Frankie and Howard are working? Huh? I never want to be on the opposite side of them.”
“Me neither, never again. Yeah, one time I got on the wrong side of Vince. He left me alone with Frankie. Told him he could do whatever he wanted as long as he didn’t kill me.”
Someone whistled. “You got lucky.”
“Lucky isn’t quite the word I’d use.” Someone walked away, their footsteps lighter than the previous footsteps I heard.
Frankie and Howard huh? I let go of my breath. Hopefully Dean at least is as good as he says he is. Who’s this Vince? Why is he looking for a specific woman? There’s no way it’s me, I don’t even know a Vince.
The door opened and a middle-aged man sauntered in, his footsteps were the ones that boomed across the floor. Heavy footed, lucky that it hasn’t given him away yet. His face was tanned with age lines distinguishing it. He hadn’t shaved for several days and he scratched at the beginnings of his salt and pepper beard as if he wasn’t used to it. He was wearing a dark brown hat, it looked like something a gangster from the 40’s would wear. It had a wide brim that encircled the hat, with a dark brown band that encircled the base. The top had almost a crushed look to it, making it flat but crumpled. Under his hat he had grey hair that looked like it still had some brown to it, it was flattened from the hat sitting on it for who knows how long. He had a leather jacket that was zipped up to his chin, faded jeans that looked almost white. Leather boots that looked like they could be steel toed. He was slim but not underfed or at least he looked like he was well enough off. He peeled his gloves off and undid his belt which held an assortment of items from knives to a fanny pack that could hold just about anything, he dropped it on the bedside table. He pulled his gun and its holster off of his hip and set it on the table next to his belt. He stared down with a frown on his face, as if I had somehow thrown a wrench in his machine.
“You’re not supposed to be awake yet.” He pulled up his left hand and looked at a watch. “You should still be out cold.”
I gave him my most angry glare that I could pull off. It only served to melt his glare. He smiled and chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart you scare me ‘bout as much as a blue jay does. Although you really, really shouldn’t be awake yet.” He grabbed his zipper on his jacket and pulled it down. He shrugged out of his jacket and set it next to his weapons. He approached me and ran his finger down the side of my face, down my neck and ran it along my collar bone. The moment he touched me my skin broke out in goosebumps. I thought about biting his finger off but then that’d only piss him off. It wouldn’t help this situation at all. He left a trail of fire from his fingertip. I turned my head away from his finger, grimacing. How am I getting out of this one? Simple, play the victim. Let him think he’s in charge.
He pulled up the only other chair in the room next to me and sat down. He set his hand gently on the side of my face holding me still, not that I was fighting him at this point. “Now I have a few questions for you. You can be honest the first time and you won’t suffer for it or you can lie and I’ll hurt you. It’s your choice.” He reached for the knife he left on the side table. He held it up in between us and twisted it, admiring its gleam. He grinned, showing his brown teeth. “You decided yet?”
I stared him down. He wasn’t going to get an answer out of me. Not easily at least.
“Alright, first question. Who else is with you? It can’t be just you three.”
I stared through him. In truth it was just us three but if he thought there were more of us then that’s fine by me. Absolutely fine.
“You know, I’m trying to be nice. If my friends were in here, you’d be talking already. You’d be spilling every single secret you had just to get them to stop. You’re lucky you have me, I don’t enjoy hurting you but I will if you don’t answer me.” He sighed heavily. “Just remember this is your choice.”
He placed the edge of the knife along my forearm and slid across my skin. Blood bubbled up the surface and ran down my skin. I didn’t flinch. He did it again, and again. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me even cringe, let alone answer any of his stupid questions. It wasn’t long before my whole arm was slick with blood. He wasn’t even cutting that deep, just deep enough to make it hurt. He switched arms. He didn’t ask any more questions, just kept cutting my arms.
He finally threw the knife to the ground and slapped me. My head rocked back and hit the side of the chair. I pulled my head back up. The taste of blood on my tongue made my stomach roll. He got up and walked away. The pain in my arms made me look down. The blood had soaked through the ropes and onto my pants. Grimly ignoring the pain, I twisted my arms trying to pull them loose. The rope was still unbearably tight. I wasn’t gaining any ground here. His radio beeped at him.
With an angry sigh he picked it up and pressed the button. “What?”
“The guy with the dogs is back.”
He held the radio to his forehead and punched the table before responding. “I thought I told you to kill him if you see him.”
“But sir,” the voice was trembling and I could hear the fear in his voice. He was terrified. “He’s killed Jake, Dylan and Mike.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, and he’s-“
“He’s what? Nick? Nick answer me dammit!” He threw the radio across the room where it hit the wall and fell to the ground. He turned around to face me. His face was flushed from
anger. He leaped forward and knocked me to the ground. My head smacked the floor hard enough that I saw stars. He screamed, kicking me in the gut. As he walked away to the next room through my haze of pain that my hand had landed right next to his knife that he’d thrown. Grimly I stretched my fingers, trying to reach it. They brushed the surface. I’d never stretched my fingers harder than I did at that moment. Slowly, painstakingly slowly I pulled the knife close enough that I was able to grip it in my hand. I flipped it over so that the blade rested against my forearm, using my fingers I slowly sawed it back and forth. It was agonizing. He could come back any moment and this was going so slowly. The knife finally cut through the rope. I ripped my arm up to free my other arm. It only took a matter of moments to cut through it. It was the same with the rope around my chest and around my legs. As I finished freeing my legs I essentially fell out of the chair. I let myself lay there on the ground for a moment before pushing myself upright. I was standing unsteadily on my feet when he came back into the room, this time he was holding a bottle of some kind. He dropped it before diving for me trying to pin me down. My arms were still slick from the fresh blood that was leaking out of my arms. He couldn’t get a grip on me but he knocked the knife from my hands. I swung a punch at him, aiming for his face but instead I hit his shoulder.
He used his momentum to push me onto the bed, I used my momentum to keep rolling. I managed to roll off the other side of the bed. As I fell off of it, he grabbed my shirt, literally ripping it off of my back. As I pulled my feet under me, he lunged again. This time I was expecting it. I stepped back causing him to over balance and fall onto the floor, he left welts on my stomach from where he tried to grab me. While he was trying to recover, I jumped onto his chest and hit him as hard as I could in the middle of his throat, choking him. Before he could react, I grabbed my ripped shirt that he had thrown to the foot of the bed and began shoving it down his throat. I shoved as much of it as I could fit. While he was gagging and pulling on the shirt, I grasped his throat with both hands and began squeezing as hard as I could. He bucked under me, attempting to get me off of him. I wasn’t letting go. He was trying to pull on the shirt while trying to unclench my hands.
Dead Paper Birds Page 14
