Roll up, roll up! It's Day five of this crazy haunted blog hop. By now you should have seen enough and read enough content to give you nightmares for weeks! At least, that's the idea anyway. Let me see if I can make those nightmares stick around for a little while longer...
*Story Time* All Good Things Part five
The night came and went with little talking from either of us. Both of our needs had been
sated, our bellies had food in them and we had somewhere safe to sleep. And sleep, came
I awoke to the sound of groans just outside, the moaning of zombies passing through no
doubt. I stood up from the bed I had slept in and stepped over Conrad’s sleeping body, and
moved towards the door. The shack was sturdy, no gaps between the planks in the door or
frame, and so I moved to the boarded up window, trying to find some small gap to look out of.
The zombies didn’t know that we were in here, they had been drawn by the scent of Sarah’s bloody and broken body. I had left her outside, though I wasn’t stupid, and I knew that killing
her, especially the way I had, would attract them. Because there was no way to clean up that
sort of kill unless you had polythene sheets and plenty of bleach.
Of which, I of course, had neither.
And so I planted her body a little way aways from the shack entrance. If they were going to
come, at least they would aim for the body and not for us.
And they did.
I found a small crack between the panels hastily nailed across the small window and
looked out. Three of them were already on their knees, bony fingers digging deep into her
stomach cavity and extracting her innards. I wiped a hand across my mouth, feeling saliva
pool at the corners.
The sight was beautiful.
All greens and red, nature mixing with death.
And then the zombies themselves; greying, unnatural corpses, moving and feeding, pulling life from her death. It was amazing.
My heart was pounding, my eyes fixed on the image in front of me with so much awe that
I didn’t hear Conrad stand up behind me and move towards me. His large hands reached out and slammed against my back, pushing me up against the wall of the shack and I grunted out my surprise as his body pressed against mine.
“You think you can kill me? That I need to fear you, Andy? You’re nothin’, you’re less than nothin’, and I don’t answer to you, or anyone,” he growled against my ear.
One of my arms was trapped between my body and the wall, and I felt cool steel against my
ribs and a sharp pinch as he toyed with me, pressing the tip of the knife against me before
pulling it out again.
“Do you have any last words?” he asked.
I hissed in pain as the knife went in a little deeper, my gaze still on the zombies just outside
of the shack. I shook my head no, and he let out a low laugh.
“Thought not,” he replied, his filthy breath hot against the back of my neck.
My body was tense, desperate to inflict pain upon him for even daring to threaten me. I gritted
my teeth, holding my breath as his body weight shifted, ready to take the final plunge into my
side with his shitty piece of steel. But as his body moved, I slammed my head back, feeling his nose connect with the back of my skull.
He yelled out, and I span, covering his mouth with my hand to stifle his cries. He’d dropped the knife, and so now neither of us were armed, and as the low growl of zombies began to increase
in volume, his eyes went wide.
Zombies. His biggest fear.
I grinned and threw my weight against him, sending him backwards. The noise of us falling
and crashing to the wooden shack floor was loud, way too loud, and the groans from outside increased. Conrad scrambled underneath me, his hands frantically trying to find the knife as
he tried to shift me off of him. He was bigger than me, and weighed more, but I was quicker.
My hand clenched around the handle of the knife and I stabbed repeatedly over and over into him.
With every thrust of the blade, he fought me less until he was a puddle beneath me. I stood up
and backed away from him, his eyes still following me across the room as I grabbed Sarah’s backpack and threw it over my shoulders.
“Please,” he coughed up blood, a spray of it landing across his chin and chest. “Please, Andy.”
I grinned again and hocked up a mouthful of saliva and spat it on him. I checked the gap at the window, seeing my opportunity for escape slipping with every second.
“See you on the other side, Conrad.” I mock saluted him and threw open the door, making
sure to leave it hanging wide open as I made my escape into the forest and away from here.
Copyright Claire C. Riley 2017
Come back for part six tomorrow!
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Blog hop participants
14/10/2017 04:23:40 pm
Conrad figured out our narrator, but not smart enough to overpower her. Thanks for a great tale.
15/10/2017 08:22:36 am
Loving this story.
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