When the Earth Tilts

XXI

I woke up hidden near the tool shed where I found Bowtie, as usual.

I cast my arm across my eyes, the grogginess was stubborn, not subsiding.

Until the scream tore through my eyes and into my brain, scrambling my brains.

I leaped away from the tool shed, grabbing Bowtie out of my axe-holding vest that was still with me. In front of me, was chaos.

Billie Jean's leg was so read I forgot what colors of her calico pelt had clashed into the leg at first.

"Billie Jean!" I called, running over to her screaming/howling form. "Billie Jean, calm down!" She was thrashing in my arms, pain seeming to drive her mad. She was trying to bite me and was clawing at me, eyes wide and bloodshot. Her paw managed to reach over and dig her claws into the crook of my elbow.

"Augh!" I yelped, not letting her go.

I looked around, violently searching for what on Earth could've done this to a bulking Australian Shepard.

Of course.

My eyes met the amber set of a jaw-snapping zombie. Mouth dripping blood from the bite it took form Billie Jean.

I cursed under my breath, of course as soon as I found shelter a zombie came and messed it all up.

I knew I was too comfortable.

I unsheathed Bowtie, sliding him into the familiar grip. I jumped up, letting the axe smash into the zombie's skull. It stirred for a moment and fell, but I knew it wasn't gone. I had to find the lightening mark, first. I kicked its growling figure over, seeing spots of black on the back. I swung the axe up, like I was chopping wood, and sliced the zombie's mark.

It went limp, hands curled into itself.

I released a breath, wiping sweat off my forehead. "Nothing like the smell of zombie in the mornin'. Eh, Billie Jean?"

I let the joke swing away in the air. I ran to the violently whimpering Billie Jean.

I knelt by her side, "There, there girl." I cast my hand down her side, avoiding her bite. "I've been there, girl, I know how it feels. Like your skin is getting broiled." I shuddered, remembering that scary night with the menacing voice.

"Who the hell 're you?"

My stomach did a somersault. My mouth went dry, my hand froze on Billie Jean's side. I was like a deer in headlights.

There were a few moments of silence. The longest moments in my entire life.

"I believe I asked you a question, trespasser."

I say nothing. My voice is a weakness.

"I believe according to the constitution, if you trespass on my property, I have the right to kill ya. Not like there's laws any more, but I think you get my point."

Nada.

He tenses, "Gladys, what do you think?"

Gladys? There is no Gladys. I listen carefully for a woman speaking, but I hear nothing.

"Ha! You're so right. I SHOULD kill him. I should kill everyone. Then it'll be just you and me and Billie Jean. We'll rule the world."

Great, I'm being held at gun point by a mad man.

I risk a look, and hold back a shrill scream.

The owner has rope tied from his wrist to a zombie's throat. The zombie is seemingly nothing but a skeleton and a face, but the owner has put on a torn pink polka-dot dress and a ratty blonde wig. I think I see red lipstick, but it's more likely to be blood, considering if the owner got close enough to put on lipstick the zombie would get a finger or two.