by Henson, Lynn
“Is he alone?” Kyle whispered with a sense of urgency.
“Is he... dead?” Blake stammered.
“Hey! Focus. Is it just him?” Kyle whispered more insistent.
“Um... I don’t know. I think so?” Blake managed to get out.
Kyle left the room intent on searching the rest of the house. Carrey knelt by the incapacitated biker and placed his fingers under the collar of his jacket at the neck.
Carrey looked up at him, “He’s alive. Watch him. I’m going to get something to tie him up with,” he said as he walked out of the room.
Blake’s eyes returned sharply to watch the biker for any indication that he was going to get up again. He realized that breathing face down in puke was probably difficult even for a biker, so he decided to roll the guy over onto his back. He squatted down to the left of the guy and pushed him over. From the front, the man’s beard would have been fluffy if it hadn’t sponged up a lot of the vomit. His leather jacket was casually open and revealed a worn black t-shirt that covered the man’s beer belly. Tucked under a shiny silver skull buckle that grinned up at him was a pistol. He grabbed the exposed handle with his thumb and index finger and removed it from the biker’s pants, setting it down on his end table. Kyle came back in looking slightly less tense.
“I couldn’t find anyone else, and it’s just his hog out front,” Kyle reported. “Probably just him.”
Carrey walked in carrying a length of coiled up yellow and green striped rope. “Let’s get him into the bed,” he suggested.
“But that’s my bed,” Blake protested.
“That guy must be like three hundred pounds,” Kyle pointed out. “You want to carry him to some other part of the house?”
“It’d just be for now,” Carrey added after Blake didn’t say anything.
“Fuck,” Blake finally agreed.
Blake got a hold of the man under the right shoulder, with Carrey doing the same on the left. He noted that it was pretty damp under there. Blake grimaced as they pulled him up off the floor and onto his bed while Kyle stood between the man’s legs and grabbed a boot in each hand to get him up on the bed.
“Wait wait wait wait wait,” Kyle said as they lifted. When Kyle lifted the man’s right leg bent upwards at an impossible angle. “That is freaking wrong.” He shuffled in closer towards the biker’s groin and put a hand around each thigh. “Ok, go.” This time they managed to get him up on the bed.
Blake wiped his hand on his jeans and resisted the urge to sniff his hand, while Carrey bound the guy’s wrists together then ran the rope under the bed to secure him to it across his chest and ankles.
Carrey pulled his walkie-talkie off of his belt and spoke into it. “Anyone awake over there?”
After a moment a groggy reply came out of it, “Yes?”
“Is everything ok over there? We’ve had a break in,” Carrey replied.
There was a pause, then the reply came back sounding more awake. “I think so. It’s quiet here.”
“I’d wake someone up and double check,” Carrey recommended.
“Yeah, good idea,” came the reply. “Do you guys... need help?”
“Negative,” Carrey replied. “We’ll be ok for tonight.”
“Alright. Let us know if you need anything.”
“Affirmative. Over and out,” Carrey concluded and reattached the walkie-talkie to his belt.
“Come on. Let’s go repair some of the damage he caused so we can relax a little,” Carrey requested.
Carrey went back out to the garage while Kyle and Blake walked to the living room to survey the damage. One of the glass sliding doors that allowed you to get to the backyard was shattered. There were still some jagged edges around the top and right parts of the metal frame, but the bottom had been scraped completely clean. Bits of glass were splayed about everywhere. A large rock that had been pulled from the garden was lying on the floor which Blake concluded was the method of entry. Blake walked passed Carrey who had recovered a large section of plywood and some tools. Blake found a broom and a dustpan in the garage and returned to start sweeping up the glass. Carrey and Kyle removed the metal door frame and set it down outside. They then put together several pieces of plywood to cover the hole in the doorway. Finally, they moved a couple of the bookshelves in front of it to further try to reinforce the hole that had been created.
Carrey inspected the final result of their work and shrugged. “That will have to do for tonight. Let’s go check on that guy.”
Blake followed the brothers back to his guest room where biker still lay on the bed exactly where they’d left him. Kyle noticed the pistol on the table and walked over to pick it up. “Is it his?” he asked Blake.
Blake nodded. “Yeah. He’d tucked it down the front of his pants.”
Kyle handed the pistol to Carrey who regarded it in the same way as if someone had handed him a turd. He then began to gingerly go through the bikers pockets. After going through the man’s clothing, Kyle had extracted a small folding knife with a wicked looking blade, a scuffed up cell phone with a small crack in the top right corner, a key ring, and a pair of sunglasses. A sudden weak cough from the man sent Kyle back a step in alarm. Carrey put a hand on his shoulder as they watched the man closely for further signs of wakefulness. When there was none, everyone relaxed.
“I think we can leave him here for now,” Carrey said. “Let’s leave the door open. Also, one of us better stands watch for the rest of the night. If he has any friends they might be looking for him.”
“We should get his motorcycle out of sight,” Kyle realized.
“I’ll stay up until morning,” Blake volunteered.
Just then there was a knock at the front door. The three of them exchanged glances and then quietly moved closer, Kyle readied his nightstick and Carrey pulled the pistol out. “Who’s there?” Blake asked through the door.
“It’s Bree,” came the reply. The brothers sighed, lowering their weapons. Blake opened the door to let her in. “What’s this I hear about a break in?” she asked seriously as she closed and locked the door behind her.
“A biker broke the glass window in the back,” Blake explained. “We managed to subdue him before he hurt anyone.”
“Subdue?” her eyes narrowed, “What? Like he’s tied up in here somewhere?”
“Well... yeah,” Blake admitted.
“Where is he?” she demanded.
They led her into Blake’s room and she sucked in air as she took in the scene. They stood there quietly as she looked at the bound man intensely. She finally turned and said, “This might sound dark, but maybe we should end his suffering.”
“Kill him?” Kyle snorted, but his voice quivered a little.
“Think about it,” Bree pointed at the biker, “He might need to go to a hospital to recover. And do any of you know where one is? One that hasn’t been overrun with zombies? Do we keep him with us until we find a place that can take care of him? He’s going to burden us.”
“I don’t think it crossed anyone’s mind that we’d be taking care of him,” Carrey shrugged.
“Right!” Kyle agreed, “He broke in here. He had a gun. He deserves whatever happens to him from here on out.”
“So we dump him outside somewhere,” Bree told them sadly, “And if he can’t walk he’s going to starve to death or get eaten. Either way, it’s a slow, painful death.”
“A quick death,” Blake looked down, “Is that what we should give him?”
“I’d consider it,” Bree nodded curtly.
“We’re not going to kill him,” Carrey decided. “What we did was an act of self-preservation. What happens to him from this point forward is just a consequence of decisions that he made.”
“Fucking A,” Kyle agreed.
“That still doesn’t completely answer the question of what we’re going to do with him,” Blake pointed out. “We going to nurse him back to health? Is he a prisoner?”
“Yes, he is.” Carrey glanced at the
bound bulk lying in the bed. “He has some explaining to do if he recovers. Whatever he says will then determine how we’ll be handling him going forward.”
“Alright,” Bree stood up, “Keep an eye on him. Let’s not let this situation get any worse. I’ll stay up until morning and we’ll set up a watch schedule tomorrow.”
She left and Blake recovered his book from the guest room, trying not to look at the unconscious biker as he did so. He made himself comfortable in a central position in the house to keep an eye on everything. Carrey had already gone upstairs. Twenty minutes after that Kyle re-entered the house having dealt with the motorcycle, gave Blake a curt nod and went upstairs.
The night passed in nearly complete silence. It was a little unnerving and Blake thought more than once about putting on some music just to break up the quiet. Instead, he got into a routine of reading for a while, then walking room to room through the house like security guard might do. Dawn came and Blake pulled aside a curtain to watch the sun bleed light on to the street. He let the curtain fall back into place and continued his imitation of a night watchman until Kyle came down the stairs a couple hours later to relieve him. Blake pulled his socks off and lay down on the couch, pulling a fuzzy brown blanket over him, and let sleep wash over him.
forty-four
Blake came awake to the reassuring sounds of people engaged in casual activity. He raised his head up and saw Lisa sitting at the dining room table. She noticed him and gave him a small wave with one hand, the other holding a bit of a waffle that she threw into her mouth. She was wearing some jeans with a hole in the knee and a t-shirt the read “Never Fear – Engineer is Here”. She looked fresh and kempt, her shiny black hair tied back into a simple ponytail.
“Heard you guys had a rough night,” she remarked.
He sat up. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. What’s going on?”
“Carrey and Kyle went out a couple hours ago. They’re going to find something to more permanently fix that door. Gao and Doris went shopping. Tiffany, Kim, and Bree are next door doing their thing.”
“Gao and Doris went shopping?” he asked, perplexed.
“That’s what she called it, but I guess it’s more like scavenging. Gao wanted her to go by herself, but she insisted.”
He laughed at that. “And you?”
“I’m here to watch this house while you sleep,” she answered. “Sleep more if you want.”
“I’m good. Wouldn’t mind one of those waffles if there are still some left.”
“Help yourself. I recommend using the toaster oven on them if you don’t mind waiting a little.”
He walked to the kitchen, pulled out a frozen waffle, and tossed it into the toaster oven. Lisa gave him a thumbs up and gestured at some maple syrup that she had been using as she got up to wash her dish. There was a knock at the door and Blake was about to go answer it when Lisa jogged past him as she was drying her hands on a towel telling him she’ll get it. He heard the door open and Lisa returned to the kitchen with Kim in tow.
“Morning!” Kim called out cheerfully.
“Good morning,” he replied as he grabbed a plate and a set of utensils, setting them down in front of the ticking toaster oven.
“So where’s the guy?” Kim asked.
“The biker? They have him tied up in the downstairs bedroom,” Lisa told her.
“Tied up? Is that necessary?” Kim asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, he did break in,” Lisa rationalized. “I don’t think tying him up is unreasonable.”
Kim shrugged and went into the guest bedroom.
The toaster oven let out a bright, cheery ding and Blake recovered the now toasty waffle by using his fork to slide it out of the oven and onto his plate. He circled over it a couple of times with the maple syrup and then sat at the dining room table to dig into it.
Kim came back out of the guest room as Blake was about halfway through his waffle. “That guy doesn’t look so good. What’d you do to him?” she wanted to know.
“When he came into my room, I hit his knee with a baton. Then Kyle came in and hit him in the back of the head with a nightstick,” Blake said, putting his fork down.
“He might not wake up,” Kim told them. “His breathing is shallow and his skin is cold.”
“It’s hard to feel bad for him when he broke in,” Lisa protested.
“But we don’t know why he did it,” Kim replied, “Maybe he was starving. Maybe he was out of gas.”
“He could have knocked,” Blake pointed out.
“True,” Kim relented after a moment. “But the point is that he might be a perfectly decent biker who just needs a little help. I don’t know that letting him die is appropriate.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Lisa asked her. “Bikers don’t exactly have the best of reputations. And he had a pistol.”
“I’m just pointing out that we should give him a chance to explain himself,” Kim said stubbornly.
“But how do we do that?” Blake asked. “Any of us have any medical training?”
“Bree does have some. I’ll go get her to take a look,” Kim said and went out the front door.
By the time she came back with Bree, Blake had polished off his waffle and cleaned up after himself. Lisa and Blake joined Kim and Bree in the guest bedroom and everyone silently watched as Bree conducted a brief examination of the biker.
“I need to set that leg. Maybe find some antibiotics for him,” Bree shrugged. “I don’t really know. He really should see a doctor.”
“Which isn’t really an option at the moment,” Kim said.
“I can set the leg,” Bree offered. “A doctor would do it right. My way is only good for an emergency.”
“Well, let’s try it,” Kim encouraged.
“Why are you even arguing for this asshole Kim?” Bree wanted to know. “Is it because you just like to argue?”
“Well, yeah,” Kim admitted. “But hey, if an entire gang shows up here with chainsaws and shotguns, maybe they’ll let us off easy because we patched their friend up?”
Bree stared at her for a moment. “We are going to need to get some things then. A pharmacy would work I think.”
“Alright. Let’s go get the stuff,” Kim said brightly.
Lisa shrugged. “I’m going to head back over to the other house then.”
He walked the girls out the front door and stood in the doorway watching them. Kim and Bree got into the GT-S and Bree roared off in her usual breakneck fashion. Lisa let herself in next door and quietly closed the door behind her. He was about to close the door when he noticed movement off in the distance. The GT-S whipped around a corner without braking and was gone, but he didn’t think that’s what had caught his attention. He closed the door as nonchalantly as he could and went to crouch down near the window and peeked out.
For five minutes he didn’t see anything move except for the occasional falling leaf. He was just about to chalk it up to motion from Bree’s car when he saw a figure appear out from behind a house halfway down the block. The figure was clearly not trying to attract any attention by keeping close to the walls of houses and using the hedges, fences, and bushes as best as they could. The figure again disappeared from sight having gone from the house they had started at to the one next door. He stood there for another ten minutes carefully watching the block, but the person didn’t emerge into view again.
He left his position at the window and retrieved a walkie-talkie from the kitchen counter and set it to the channel for next door.
“Lisa? You read me?” he said into the device.
There was nothing for a moment, then “Ah, ok. I think that’s how it works. Yes! I’m here Blake. What’s going on?”
“I saw someone creeping around down the street.”
There was no reply for a minute or two, and Blake started to feel stupid standing there staring at the walkie-talkie. “Hello?” he tried again.
“We’re here. But we’re not sure what to do. Did
that person you saw seem dangerous?”
“Whoever it was, they were trying not to be seen. Does that make them dangerous? Maybe?” he answered.
There was another long pause. “So...? Any thoughts?” he prompted.
“We think we should wait for the others to come back. But we also think you should keep watch on the street.”
“Keep watch on the street?” he repeated dully.
“Yeah. Maybe if you see them again and we know where they’re hiding, we can go confront them when the others get back.”
“Well, ok. That sounds reasonable. Shouldn’t you guys keep watch too then?”
“Tiffany is already glued to the upstairs window,” came the reply, “She’s freaked out. I’m going to give her this walkie-talkie and get back to cooking.”
“You’re still cooking? With someone out there?” he asked aghast.
“We can’t really do anything about that except try to figure out where that person is,” Lisa said reasonably. “So I’m going to try to just keep calm until the others come back.”
“Alright. I guess we’ll go with that,” Blake relented.
Blake decided to go upstairs to try to find a window that had a better vantage point than the one he was looking out of downstairs. As he climbed the stairs the walkie-talkie squawked to life again.
“It’s not that I’m not scared. But this is how I deal with stress. If there’s something wrong I try to get my mind off it by being busy,” Lisa told him.
“It’s alright,” he said after a couple of seconds. “We’ll figure this out. Between Tiffany and I we’ll find them,” he said confidently.
