Free Winter's Salvation by Jason Deyo Page B

by another shot.  
    Sam closed the door and locked it.  Looking out the window Mr. Cook just stepped down off the porch as his second shot sounded.  There were three in the yard now and one was in front, walking with a brisk pace toward him when another shot fired and Sam witnessed its head disappear into a shower of debris that rained on the two that lacked behind.  She let out a shriek and closed the curtains.  Naomi held her hands out to her and squeezed her softly to avoid hurting her back any more than it already was. 
    Multiple shots rang out and after a few minutes the door knob to the kitchen turned.  Sam and Naomi turned to the door and Sam hesitantly reached for the curtains when she heard, “Hey let me in.  I don’t appreciate being locked out of my own house.”
    She unlocked it quickly.  He stepped in and wiped his feet on the welcome mat, as if he had just came in from the rain.  “If I’m out there at least keep an eye on me, so if I have to come in, I don’t have to wait to be let in.” 
    They both nodded in agreement and Mr. Cook pulled a chair up next to Naomi.  “Honey, we’re going to have to fit you with some new cloths and we need to clean up your feet.  You’re bleeding on my floor.” 
    Naomi, completely dumbfounded at his comment looked down confused and saw that her feet were bloody from when she climbed the fence. 
    “Go over and use the bath tub while we still have water pressure.”  He said, loading his rifle again. 
    “Thank you.” Naomi replied.
     
     
    **********
     
     
    “I know it’s not the most stylish thing in the world, but I have to imagine it is more comfortable than what you had on.”  Mr. Cook said referring to Naomi’s new attire. 
    She sat wearing a grey hooded sweat shirt that had a large picture of a bald eagle soaring over a mountain range and in big letters ALASKA printed on it.  Blue jeans that were too large for her and a pair of white nurses shoes that were too big, but with the gauze wrappings around the fronts of her feet, gave the shoes a tight snug feeling. 
    They all sat in dim candle light in the wood paneling walled living room.  Mr. Cook sat with his back to the kitchen in a n old large brown rocking recliner and Sam and Naomi sat on the couch that was just under the window that faced Naomi and Sam’s house.  Sam sat on her knees spreading the blinds with her index finger and thumb, trying to be sneaky, but filled with anxiety waiting to see something come to the fence from their house.  The last Sam could see from this vantage point was more of the ghouls rummaging through the house.  Before it got too dark Sam could have sworn she saw a creature moving around in her room, but now she could barely make out the chain link fence.  The moon decided that tonight it would be unusually dark and the only reason she can see the fence is because when the wind blows, the fence will reflect a faint shimmer of light. With the shimmer of light came the wails and groans sailing through the wind of the undead in their house.   
    “The clothes are fine and I thank you, so very much.  We thank you, so very much.  We don’t know what we would have done if you weren’t home.”  Naomi put her hands in the pouch of the sweat shirt and leaned back gently.  She looked up to the light that hung from the ceiling by a chain and watched as the candles bounced off the glass of the light.  
    “Well you are more than welcome to stay here for as long as you’d like.”  Mr. Cook said, “Did you have any plans?  From here, I mean.”
    Sam glanced at her wanting to hear her response.  “I was thinking about going to Sam’s fathers or heading to my parents place.  My ex doesn’t live too far from here; a few miles down the road in Dunhaven and my parents live down by the Rail Way Tavern.”  Sam was happy with the response.
    “Those apartments?” He asked.
    “Yes.”
      The old man rocked in his chair slowly, “The apartments