Aint No grave

110 19 7
                                    

 It took about a week for the wound to close completely. In that time I had secured all the doors, killed a few undead stragglers, and found a hidden stashes of candy bars, bottled water and chips in teacher's desks and student lockers. I worked myself up from five to ten to thirty pushups a day. I was getting myself strong again. I wanted to leave as soon as possible of course, knowing full well that every night Spencer crawled on top of Emily it was nothing less than rape. I wanted to leave every minute of every day for that week and the next. But I didn't. I wouldn't do anyone any good unless I was good and ready to face him. The skeleton key that opened every locker in the school was beneath the principle's desk in the main office. It took a good while to go through them all but in the end, after all the food and water the sisters had missed, I had also found a pocket knife, about sixteen lighters and a hell of a lot of energy bars. God bless cheerleaders.      

 Two weeks and three days after I had been stabbed and left for dead, I was ready to kill the man who had killed me. All Ryan wanted was to come back to his hometown- it was obvious they would eventually have gone to his house, I was hoping against all hope they hadn't left yet. I went to the school roof and watched the town, keeping myself low so as not to be seen. The town was quiet. Every now and then there would be a group of those things wandering aimlessly through the streets, but no more than anywhere else. The group had no real reason to leave. There must have been supplies all over, and Ryan would know just where to look.The first morning I was healthy enough to walk, I had gone to the main office looking for Ryan's file, I circled his address on a map and spent every day since memorizing the route. I didn't do any crunches in fear of tearing the stitches but I jogged up and down every staircase, each step burning my calves and thighs in ways I had never experienced in my life before this. I realized after my first attempt at exercise how important it was to be fit, especially now. I wouldn't get many chances to jog for leisure, I had to use every available second I had to turn my body into an asset rather than the hindrance it had been.I remembered how the dead ignored the fridge when me and Emily were locked inside, the only thing I could think of was that they could smell the rotting meat and it didn't appeal to them. I planned every moment of my trek across town starting with what I would be wearing. I collected every hoodie and leather jacket, every shirt and pair of gloves I found in the lockers and lost and found. I laid them all out on the floor of a classroom and went to work, cutting and stitching until I had a bite-proof uniform. I went back to the fridge when it was time to go. I took what I could of the meat and put it in my pockets. I opened the front door and went out into the street.        

My steps were slow, the dead snapped their heads at anything moving faster than they did. Every now and then I would stop and vomit along the way. The sound of it made them turn but the smell wasn't inviting enough to investigate. It took me two hours to move three hundred feet. I stopped in abandoned stores and public restrooms, searching every shelf and drawer. There wasn't much left but I found some gauze and aspirin.      

  Seven hours after I left the school, I arrived at Ryan's house. It looked like it had been well taken care of in its day, but now the overgrown grass lay dying thick and brown over the front yard. The handmade swing-set hanging from the willow tree now was the permanent prison of one of the dead who got himself entangled on the rope. As I got closer I saw that he had been tied by the wrists, careful knots wrapped around the flannel sleep of his shirt. Spencer did this. I figured out why when the thing turned to me and opened its mouth. I put my pocket knife through his skull before he could make a sound and lowered him quietly on the swing.I knew my journey was not in vain, I could see a flicker of firelight on the top side window. I crossed silently to the porch and began to climb, the moon was blocked by storm clouds- I was nothing more than a shadow. The slow trickle of rain was also welcome as it helped to mask the sound of my boots creaking on the wood of the upstairs balcony. I peered through the window- Spencer lay beside Emily- his arm thrown across her body as if to say mine.   

    I lifted the window one inch at a time and slipped inside as quiet as the breeze that followed me.I got down on one knee beside the makeshift stove they had constructed. My face was lit by momentary flickers of orange. I put my hand over her mouth. Emily opened her eyes. She gave me a small scared smile. I opened the pocket knife so she would know my purpose. She gave the slightest nod and simply closed her eyes again. I moved around her to Spencer's side and put the blade on his throat.I looked up to something moving beside me. Ryan was standing still as a statue at the edge of the room- we looked at each other frozen in our mutual surprise."Spencer!" he yelled. I slashed as best I could but Spencer turned with the motion of the cut, he pushed me off, knocking over the stove in the process- its embers scattered around the room like a thousand yellow stars. In about two seconds it was I under Spencer's control. He grabbed my wrist and smashed my arm on the hardwood until the knife came tumbling out of my hands. Emily screamed, pleading for my life-"How the fuck did you-" he began but let the thought go when the rage of nearly being killed in his sleep took over. "Ryan get me that pistol there," Spencer said while wrapping both hands around my neck. Ryan rushed to the weapons cache in the corner of the room. Emily ran and threw herself on top of the skinny boy football player, punching, biting, scratching- Ryan almost lost to her ferocity but in a moment of dumb luck he rushed the wall and Emily cracked the back of her head against a bookshelf and collapsed to the floor, unconscious."Hoo-ey!" Spencer yelled, "I do believe her skull may have just popped!" The sounds of the room were fading. All I could hear was a dull pulse thumping slower and slower in my ears. Spencer leaned his weight on me as he lifted a hand from my neck to take the pistol from Ryan. He clicked the hammer back and put the cold barrel hard against my temple. Then, he took it away, "You know what? Better idea-" he aimed the gun back towards the unconscious Emily, the last mistake he ever made.     

I couldn't reach any vital part of him which is why he wasn't too concerned with my hands. What he didn't know- what I myself had forgotten in the madness, was that I had put a small plastic lighter in every pocket of my monster jacket, they were in every room of the school. I writhed this was and that so he couldn't aim at her, "Keep still piggy," he laughed trying to get a clear shot- I slipped a hand into my front breast pocket, sparked the lighter on and held it at his wrist- it was only seconds before he jumped back with a start and dropped the knife. I snatched it from the floor and slashed wildly at his throat, I felt the rubbery resistance of his skin as I pushed the blade across his throat.     

Blood flew everywhere. Spencer fell against a wall- he slapped both hands around his throat trying to stop it from coming out so fast. Ryan stood and turned to run out of the room which was now glowing orange bright as the curtain caught fire. I took the fallen gun and raised it up to his chest."Don't. Move," I said, his pants grew dark and wet with urine.        

Turning my attention back to Spencer, I pulled his hands away from the wound. Gallons of red spilled out to the floor. I walked to Emily- the back of her head was cut but the bone was intact."Wake up, the room's on fire," I said. Her eyes blossomed open, after a moment of confusion, she stood with me. Spencer's breath grew shallow and soon stopped."Thanks for coming," she whispered."Thanks for fighting," I replied. Ryan stood like a frightened center piece in the middle of the room."Please..." he pleaded, "I was afraid of him... I only did what I had to."The fire grew into a blaze around us. "Leave him," Emily said. We took the guns they'd found and we left Ryan with nothing.



We With Daisies LieDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora