The Boy

Chapter One : The Dog

Chapter One : The Dog.

The boy sat on the damp ground inside the wooden garden shed, his shoulders hunched and his knees pulled up against his chest. Morning light streamed through the many cracks and missing boards, throwing a patchwork pattern of rectangles and lines around the small space. He was a good height for his age but with it came a lankiness he longed to be rid of. His semi long brown hair which he normally parted on one side was now left a tattered mess as he ran his fingers through it. His body was masked in the odors of the shed, the damp smell of old wet lawn clippings, the mice which frequently visit to built their nests of dry grasses and papers and of stale urine soaked into the soil. It had been three days since he had to seek the refuge of the shed and the time was coming when he would have to leave the shelter it provided. His face was a canvas of fear and disbelief, painted in dirt and blood. Large scratches ran down his cheeks, dried blood stuck to his chin and neck. His lips were cracked and dry and although he was only twelve he knew full well if he didn't seek water soon that he would perish.

Outside the undead dog meandered.

The past night had not been pleasant, every scurrying noise and creak of wood terrified him. There wasn't enough room to stretch out and the damp from the soil where he sat penetrated his clothes and chilled him. For three days he slept in dribs and drabs, tired, hungry and with a deepening thirst. The last two hours had been bitterly cold right before the sun rose and he knew if he didn't move today he would never leave this shed. Creeping forward on his hands he peered from the gloom into the morning light. It was bright outside and fresh it almost looked like it should on any normal day. But there were subtle signs that things weren't right in the world. There was blood on the steps leading up to the verandah and the grass had tufts of fur strewn across it, as though two cats had fought their way across it.

And then there was the dog. It was a German Shepard once upon a time now it lay on its side slowly decaying against the fence in the driveway. It's fur clumped and matted with blood and it's tongue lolling out dry and swollen. It didn't breath or pant, while gross to look upon, it didn't seem like much a threat. But the boy knew better. Three days ago he barely escaped the dog into the shed and here he stay, trapped.

The house had belonged to his neighbor and it was a nice old place, stone walls with a large verandah that fully circled the house. He suspected that the neighbor didn't lock the back door but it was only a suspicion. The dog hadn't moved for a full hour now, maybe it had finally decayed to the point where the life in it was gone. He would like to think it the truth but for the last few days he had studied it. He was aware that it was probably just resting. He didn't really believe it to be dead either, even decaying like it was there was he was sure there was something living in it. And while it didn't breath, its eyes we're alive and wired. Every time it looked at him the bright blue and black eyes shone alive and filled him with terror.

The surrounds of the shed were well familiar to him by now and he had replayed for three days what would be the best way to proceed. Slowly he stood and reached for the leaf rake, putting one foot on the head he twisted the handle. The old wooden handle wasn't built for this kind of pressure, started to splinter and twist apart. After a couple of minutes he had it apart and the top piece was a good three foot long with a sharp point on it.

Once again looking out through a missing piece in the structure he looked towards the driveway, eyes scanning for the dog. It wasn't in the same spot it had turned slightly and was further away now. For a moment he considered sneaking to the back door of the house but as he studied the hound he came to feel that it was watching. It's eye do bright that it almost sparkled in the shadow glaring at him.

Taking a deep breath he let out a yell.

"Come and get me! Decaying sack of shit." he screamed and beat on the wood panelling with his free hand.

The dog needed no more encouragement and was upon him in seconds, snout through the hole snarling and puncturing its own tongue with teeth every snap it made. The boy took an involuntary step back in shock, it seemed faster today, more alive even. The stench of it filled the shed and overpowered his senses making him gag. With a decisive step forwards he tried to plunge the stick into its eye and missed sticking it into the side of its snout. He stabbed again this time getting it just below the eye socket, the stick slid up penetrated the socket and the eye rolled down pulled by the force of it. When he pulled back the eye came partway with it and hung lose in the socket before turning down with no control left. He stood back for a second but the dog kept on snapping and turning its head trying to squeeze in through the gap and see him with its good eye. This time his shot was calmer and more controlled, the stick struck the other eyeball square on and the bluntness of it mashed the eye inwards as it punctured and sunk to the back of the socket. This time the dog pulled back, unable to see its prey it began to shake furiously to remove the three foot object sticking from its face. It thrashed wildly for several minutes before the stick came loose taking the eye with it. It dangled held by optical muscles momentarily before pulling away completely.

The boy backed away from the door slowly picking up the garden fork as he did so. He had considered the axe or the pick for a bit but decided the fork would be easier to wield and leave him less open if he was forced to use it. Slowly opening the door he ventured forth into the open yard. The dog swung from side to side violently as he tried to see where his quarry was. The boy faced the dog holding the fork like a spear at the ready but made no attempt to engage it. Slowly he moved sideways not taking his eyes off the animal and backed away towards the porch. As he put some distance between him and the beast it started to get its bearings. It stopped swaying so badly and faced him, it's teeth bared. It started snarling and moving forward just as he reached the porch steps. He didn't dare climb the steps backwards but he couldn't take his eyes of the dog. The dog was walking faster now and there was only a few meters between them now. He could see now that the door was open and the temptation to run for it overpowered the urge to stay facing his enemy. As he darted up the concrete steps the dog started to run also and as he reached the top of the porch he sung about to face the charging animal. Only having one eye and a drooping one at that, was severely affecting the animal as it ran. It careered head first with all it's mite into the concrete pillar. With a sickening crunch it toppled over and staggered trying to get up. For a moment he considered stepping down to finish it off but thought better of it and backed away inside closing the solid wood door behind himself locking it.