Page 15 of Creepy
Slinging on my heavy backpack, I grabbed the bags and vaulted down the back steps.Carrying a load, I kept a steady but quick pace, focused solely on completing my task.Every step familiar, the worn path through the overgrowth guided me to the gate.An inkling of worry interrupted my journey.The path was too worn, detectable.I thought about the cross on my doorstep.I’d take another path next time.Setting the bags down only to punch in the combination, the muscles in my arms burned.I stretched them over my head and behind me, tugging each one straight to feel some relief.
Bending to pick up the heavy bags, I centered on my chore again.Like I had a million times, I went straight to the side door, probably once a servant’s entrance, one that didn’t even lock.When I moved in, I’d be installing a deadbolt for sure.Not that it’d do anything to keep out a human who could bust in the wooden door.A zombie, on the other hand, would be deterred with the right lock.Leaning on the knob with my elbow, I twisted while using my foot to pry the door open.I slipped in, letting the heavy door shut behind me.The basement laid straight down the hall.Pitch black on this side of the house, I counted my steps until I almost ran into the door.At least this door locked.I’d made sure of it, installing a deadbolt when I decided to use the space.I sat the bags down and reached up to use one finger to turn on my headlamp.Even reaching up hurt.I scolded myself for overdoing it.Being sore tomorrow would cancel out my extra efforts today.
“Don’t be too hungry,” my Papa would say anytime I bit off more than I could chew.
“Pace yourself,” I said, under my breath.
I dug in my pocket for my growing ring of keys.I flipped through until I found the ancient one and the newest one.Unlocking the knob and the dead bolt, I gained entry to my secret stash.I picked up the bags and marched down the wooden stairs carefully.
Basements were scary in general.This one was no different, no matter that with the proper lighting it was quite cozy, being finished out and all.Regardless, I ignored the tingles climbing my spine as I descended the stairs, even as I broke a few cobwebs with my face.I didn’t even bother knocking them down anymore.Spiders, the little workaholics they were, quickly replaced them.I stowed the jars away on the high shelves of the built-in bookcase that lined the whole wall.
My task finished, I left the basement a hundred pounds lighter, bounding up the stairs.Taking the keys, I locked the doors and headed down the dark corridor until something stopped me.A sound.I froze.
“Hhhrr...”and thump.
A motherfucking zombie.
Not wanting to blast a hole in the wall, I unstrapped my bat and swung it over my shoulder.Dreading the cleanup of killing a zombie, I tiptoed farther into the house.
“Hhhrr...”
I followed the sound, rounding each corner, anticipating an undead monster to scuttle toward me.Halfway through the mansion, I’d come into the light, out of the shadows, where the large front windows illuminated the rooms.Fuck.I’d have an even bigger mess to clean up with the melting zombie oozing goo all over these beautiful floors.
“Hhhrr...”Thump.Thump.Whack.
I peeked around the corner for a shock.A young man crouched, his arms out in a fighting stance.His face serious, he made the, “Hhhrr,” I’d heard.In one swift motion, he spun around, jumped up, and kicked.
Holy fuck.He’s being attacked by a zombie.
I acted quickly.Busting into the room, aiming precisely where I expected his enemy to be, pinching my eyes shut tight, as to not get any zombie splatter in my eye, I swung the bat like it was the ninth inning, and I was hitting a home run.Only I missed my mark.My eyes sprung open.No one was there.To my surprise, the weight of my bat, not making an impact, propelled me around as it continued its motion.I hit the man square in his stomach.
He doubled over.
I dropped the metal bat, making it clack on the floor.
Cradling his stomach, the man held out his other arm, his hand palm out.“I’m unarmed.”
Rushing to him, I helped him to the floor.“I thought you were being attacked.What the hell are you doing in here?”
“Name’s Arlo, nice to meet you too.”He sat up on his elbows and held out his hand again.
I took it but let go of it promptly.“What were you doing in here?”I tried again.
“It’s called Kar..a..te.”Channeling Mr.Miyagi, he pronounced the word totally different than I would.His accent dripped surfer dude.Handsome, he reminded me of a young Matthew McConaughey circa Dazed and Confused.But he sounded like Keanu Reeves’ Ted.
“I thought there was a zombie.I didn’t mean to hurt you.I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”
“Yeah, I taught self-defense, and now I’m down on my ass.Hey, do you need a lesson?”
“Karate, no, what good will that do me?”
“The zombies.You wouldn’t have to use a bat.”
“What good would it do me to beat up a zombie?”My hand going to my pistol, I pulled up the fabric of my legging to show him.“I’ve got a gun, a Rugar, a nine-millimeter.And more where that came from.”
“There’s no need to kill them.They’re not amazingly fast.They used to be people, our loved ones.”
I rolled my eyes.“I don’t believe it.”I hadn’t been talking to him but myself.
