Page 22 of Creepy
6
The next day I didmy chores on autopilot.Driving through Creepy, all I could think about was Arlo and his good manners.It was the end of the goddamn world.Nobody had time for that.
That was until I saw a familiar face streak by.Was that Rowan Anderson?What the hell was an old boyfriend of mine doing going down Main Street?I’d only been going ten miles per hour because of a speed bump, but he’d been going much faster.I slowed for the next bump before pushing the gas to speed up.Sputtering, the Beast gave out on me.
“Oh, come on,” I screeched at the ornery truck.The engine wouldn’t turn over.I stepped out.Cupping my hand over my eyes, I searched down the street.What the hell was Rowan doing in town?Before I could think, I saw another man coming at me fast.Biking toward me and after Rowan, I suspected, was none other than Troy.
He stopped right in front of me, nearly hitting me.“Did you see a guy on a bike come through here?”
“Yeah.Just now.”My voice sounded excited, confused.
“That motherfucker.”Troy rode on after him, leaving me standing on the street.
I walked in the same direction, thinking maybe I should throw a bike or a skateboard in the back of the truck for times like these when the Beast gave up.When I realized I forgot my backpack, I came to a halt.I didn’t go anywhere without it.With no hope of catching up with the bikes and no sign of Troy ahead anymore, I turned and walked back to the truck.I climbed in to retrieve my pack just as Troy was riding back my way, shouting something.
“Huh,” I said as he shouted again.I vaulted out of the big truck to greet him, wanting to know what the hell was going on.Sensing a presence behind me, I whipped around and was greeted by a zombie instead.The undead thing was practically on top of me.No time to unsnap my gun, I rushed and kicked, just like Arlo had taught me.I made contact and then some.My foot went through the rotting corpse and hung inside, my tenny shoe all but disappeared.In character, the thing didn’t react.It continued its sluggish, relentless pursuit.My balance wavered as I watched in horror, the mindless corpse impaling itself on my leg.Making eye contact with the thing, I thought I recognized the man it used to be.Jimmy Porter was a nice enough man while alive.None of that mattered now.My other foot gave out, and I crumbled to the ground, bringing the meat bag on top of me.The monster’s teeth latched onto my neck.They always went for the neck, trying to get to the brain.I fought with all my might, dislocating its shoulder but not prying it off me.A zombie attack in the day was usually more annoying than anything with the way they were slower, practically melting in the heat.But now the damned eyesore had the upper hand.One initial bite wouldn’t end me, but the abomination could sever an artery in the next moment, so I had to act fast.I’d have to escape its slimy grip.A shot sounded, piercing my ears.Zombie bits rained onto me as it slumped, and I knew I’d been saved.
Troy, on his knees, shoved the zombie off me.Looming over me, his mouth moved, but no words came out.He scooped me into his lap, asking if I was okay.My hearing slowly returned.
“You could’ve shot me,” I complained.
“No way, baby.I’m wet.”
“Is it raining?”His words confused me.Although sweating, Troy appeared dry enough.I felt wet but knew I was covered in guts.
“I make it rain.”
I reached up to get a chunk of corpse out of my eye.“Like throwing money?”I shook my head.
“No.”He laughed.“I always make my shots.”
“Oh, got it,” I said, realizing it was some basketball saying I wouldn’t understand.
“Are you going to pass out?”
My head spun, and I felt queasy.I thought maybe I would, but then fought it.“No.I’m usually the one getting wet.”
“Um...I don’t know...”
I hadn’t said the phrase right.“I’m usually the one shooting zombies.I’m used to it.The gore and the shock.It will pass.”I put my hand over the bite, knowing it needed to be disinfected.“I’ll be okay.”
Troy loosened his grip a bit, and I tried to move.Nothing hurt too bad until I moved my leg, my foot.He helped me try to stand.I couldn’t put pressure on my right knee or ankle.
“Geezus,” I cried out, trying to walk.
“Take it easy.”Troy caught me and steadied me.“I can help you into the truck.I’ll drive you home and clean you up.”
