Monday, July 19, 2010

You can't call them Zombies!

Looking down at the blood stained arm of Kyle, Anna’s heart thumped loudly in her chest, each thrust seemed to come closer to cracking a rib. She took hold of the vibrating steering wheel of her father’s buggy and looked through the mist of dust in the air around them.

The creatures had started to close in on them, and Kyle was dying. She shoved down on the pedal, the buggy lurched forward, and the wind blew through her hair as she navigated back toward civilization. The creatures ignored the roar of her buggy as she guided it up the dirt path.

Gunfire continued to erupt behind her, but her ears blocked it out as her focus remained on getting Kyle to safety. The dune buggy bounced into the street enticing a groan from Kyle.

The blood soaked street, spread out before her. It looked like a blender’s top flew off and body parts came flying out. At first she tried to maneuver around the limbs, but it became too difficult and she had to stomach running over the remains. Each little bump made her stomach gurgle.

She sped past the hospital, a couple of creatures milled around outside, one held the leg of a human, pieces of flesh dangled from the wounds.

Looking at Kyle, his face had turned pale, and his lips were moving. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she knew it wouldn’t be good. She had to find a place to take care of it before too late.

Zooming through and intersection, she glanced at the sign and hung a quick left. The street was where her uncle lived. He was a vet, and might have some supplies at home.

Her uncle’s house sat to her right. The front windows were shattered, blood and what she guessed was flesh coated the windowsills. Taking in the surroundings, it looked like the creatures had left as all the rest of the houses were dark, and silent. The only sound was the rumble of her buggy.

Pulling into the driveway, behind her uncle’s Honda, she wiped away the tears that collected at the corner of her eyes. The last time she saw her uncle she yelled at him, because he wanted her to work for him, and she didn’t want to. She couldn’t handle the sight of seeing an animal be put to sleep. She shut the engine off and turned to Kyle.

“We need to get inside, can you walk?” He didn’t answer. She slipped the good arm over her shoulder and started to pull him out. He outweighed her by a good fifty pounds, but her determination drove her onward. With a lot expended energy, she managed to get him out of the buggy and to the front steps. She set him down and he groaned; a good sign. At least he wasn’t dead.

“Kyle?” She looked at the steep steps and wondered if there was a way to get him up and into the house. Her legs and back throbbed, and the lack of food didn’t help matters. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled him up one step at a time and twenty minutes later they were inside the front door.

Sweat clung to her forehead and back. Still, her mind remained sharp and she locked the front door. Leaving Kyle on the floor, she headed toward her uncle’s first floor bathroom. The room was neat and organized, but nothing of use was in there.

She stormed up the steps and into the second story bathroom, and the same empty results. Lastly, she headed back downstairs and into the master bathroom.

In the medicine cabinet she found gauze, hand aids, and some other necessary medical supplies like Vicodin. With her supplies she hurried back toward the front door and found a surprising sight. Kyle had managed to sit up; he looked at her with a glint of despair and tried to smile.

“I’m feeling better.” His voice wavered and his head lolled around on his shoulders.

Sliding up next to him, she ripped at his shirt. It shredding from around the wound and she almost fainted at the sight. Blood still dribbled out of the hole; the edges of the wound were dark red, already trying to heal on their own. At least the bullet went clean through, so she wouldn’t have to dig in there to retrieve it.

“I’m going to try to help you.” She said, more to calm herself then to relax him. She took cotton swabs and cleaned around the wound. The blood soaked into the gauze turning each piece into a bloody spit wad as the pile grew next to her. After the wound was cleaned on the front and back, she began to apply some of her rudimentary sewing skills to the test. She managed to sweat up the back wound easy enough, but the front one proved harder as Kyle flexed his shoulder as she inserted the needle.

“Stop twitching. I’m trying to close the wound.” She ran her fingers through his hair as she continued to focus on her task. After a few tries, she tied up the second hole and applied the bandage to the wound. It wasn’t better, and looked like hell, but at least the wounds were closed, medicated, and Kyle wasn’t bleeding too much anymore.

Collapsing back, she leaned her blazing head against the side of the wall and stared at him. “Kyle, we need to get some rest, can you move?”

He nodded and tried to get to his feet, but collapsed before he could. “I guess not.”

“Okay.” She pulled herself up and on shaky legs, offered her hand to him. He clutched it and she draped it over her shoulder. The weight almost took them both down, but she grunted and continued to lead him toward the back master bedroom.

Once inside, she shut the door, and helped him onto the bed. He was asleep before she could even make sure the windows were shut and locked. She looked around the room and at him. A smile cracked her face and she knew tonight wasn’t going to be restful. She took a seat on the edge of the bed. Lowering her head into her hands, she sighed. She had no idea what she was going to do now.

1 comment:

  1. Bleck. I *still* can't vote. Hey, Blogger! We have a problem here!

    Anyway, I tried to vote for "Take any weapon she can find and go look for a safer place to stay?"

    You are just bound and determined to split them up, or kill one of them off. ;-)