Free Well Fed - 05 by Keith C. Blackmore Page A

happened to Benny until a day later. Sheldon bled out. At least I hope he bled out. Matt cut up more ’n a dozen of the things. I found the heads the next morning, and this”—Talbert held up the machete—“right in the middle. No Matt, though. No Benny either. Lights were still off, but there was some lit farther in the house, not that I was in any mood to explore then, so I barricaded myself in a neat little bathroom I’d managed to crawl into the day before. Plenty of running water. Raised sinks. Tub with a TV screen and even a silver minibar––empty, though, but I mean, Christ . Best thing? The toilet flushed. I mean, the place was nicer than my fuckin’ bedroom . I stayed in that shitter for a day and a half until I saw the light shining in from under the door. It stayed on, and a couple hours later, after I couldn’t hear anyone out there, I stepped out.”
    Stepping out into that dreadful quiet, catching a whiff of air ripe with offal and viscera, and seeing what was left of a buddy left Talbert shaken. A zombie had wrenched his bat away, so he used the machete and went from room to room, deeper into the house, retreating into bathrooms upon seeing any walking corpses and hiding out like a mouse in the walls. Sometimes, he had to fight, and he killed them straight out. The lights always went off just as a pack of zombies came into sight, and Talbert quickly learned that whoever was being cheap with the power was playing a game. Light to lure him out of hiding. Dark just before the gimps tried to eat him. Sometimes, Donald stalked about with his bow. In a short time, Talbert learned where the rotundas were and sections where a person could stand on the second and third floors and gaze down into the first. His armor had saved his ass from Donald’s arrows three times already.
    “Donald usually stayed up here, and I couldn’t find a way up. The staircases were all shut off. Only reason I got up to the second floor was by getting a fancy cord cut from a length of curtain, tying it off around the hilt of the machete, and spearing that through the posts of the railing and hauling my ass up and over. Only way. Up here, there’s pretty much nothing, and the stairways to the third level are boarded up as well. Tried going through one of them barricades, but the racket brought the dead on my ass, and in the end, I couldn’t break through—not with what I have here. Tried to find another way out, but…”
    Talbert shrugged.
    “We can’t get out?” Gus clarified.
    “I haven’t found it. This place is ratproof, bro. We’re safe up here, but for how long I don’t know. And…”
    He trailed off, smiling weakly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more hungry in all my life. You didn’t happen to bring anything to eat, did you?”
    For all his dislike of the man, Gus felt a moment’s pity when he shook his head and saw the hope drain from Talbert’s features.
    “Sorry,” Gus said. “Wasn’t prepared for this. Didn’t even think there’d be any gimps still walking by this point.”
    “Must be the floors or something. Not as rough as scuffing along pavement.”
    “Maybe.”
    “Searched the kitchen and pantry down below. Nothing. The cupboards were bare.”
    “And we can’t get up to the third?”
    “Not yet. Maybe with you here, we can figure something out.”
    Gus nodded. “Maybe.”
    “Don’t know how much good I’ll be to you. I’m pretty much spent. Must be the tension or something, burning up calories. Surprised myself when I pulled your ass up from below.”
    “Who’s doing the screaming?”
    Talbert cocked an eye at him. “Below? Hate to say it—I think it’s Benny.”
    “Benny?”
    “Donald caught him or something. Didn’t let the gimps have him. Anyway, I think it’s Benny. Been listening to that for the last day or so. Deeper in the house, in a part I’m staying away from because they seem to migrate there when the screaming starts. It’s like… you know how hunters will