Free The Turning: A Tale of the Living Dead by Kelly M. Hudson Page A

his mind had simply shut down. 
    After sitting like that for a
while, Jenny went on a search, found a couple of blankets and a pillow, brought
them back, and made a small nest under the table where they were sitting.  She
got Jeff down to the ground and lay next to him, putting his head on her
shoulder.  Jeff did everything she wanted but was otherwise unresponsive.
    An hour later, serenaded by the
constant scratching and moaning of the living dead, they both fell into a deep,
haunted sleep.

 
    6
     
    Jeff woke first, several hours
later, his catatonia over, replaced now by an unrelenting grief.  He’d killed
two men.  Shot them dead in cold blood. 
    His sobbing woke Jenny, who
wrapped an arm around him and hugged him.
    Some time later, they both fell
asleep again.
     
    “I killed him,” Jeff said.  He was
still propped up in her arms, morning light streaming through the cracks in the
doors. 
    “You had to.  They were going to
get us.” 
    “No,” he said.  “Not them.  I
mean, I did kill them, but I killed someone else, too.  A long time ago.”
Jenny went silent for a moment. 
    “This isn’t the part where you
reveal you were a psycho all along, is it?” she said, grinning.  “I’ve had a
couple of crazy boyfriends.  I don’t know if I can take another.”
He smiled, despite himself.
    “No.  I’m afraid you’re stuck with
me, dear,” he said.
    His smile faded as he wrestled
with what he was going to say.  After a few minutes of awkward silence, he
blurted it out. 
    “My Dad,” he said.  “I shot my Dad
when I was a kid.”
    “Oh,” she said. 
    “He used to take me hunting,” Jeff
said.  “When I was little, up until I was ten years old.  He taught me how to
shoot a gun.  All kinds of guns:  rifles, shotguns, pistols.  My father was a
real outdoorsman.  He showed me how to start a fire rubbing two sticks
together.  Lots of kids my age were in the Cub Scouts or the Boy Scouts.  I
didn’t need anything like that.  My dad was a walking, talking, living and
breathing How-To-Survive-In-The-Wilderness Guide.”
    “He sounds like a good father,”
she said.
     “He was, right up until I shot
him dead,” Jeff said.
    Jeff was silent, waiting for Jenny
to say something.  When she didn't, he continued. 
    “It was a hunting accident.  We
were out looking for deer and I had a rifle and he went up ahead of me and I
lost track of him and got a little turned around because the brush was so thick
where we were, and then a deer bolted out in front of me and you should have
seen it.  It was one of the most beautiful bucks I’d ever seen.  I remember the
thought flashing through my head that if I bagged this deer, Dad would be so
proud.  So I raised my gun and fired, on instinct.  Only the deer was so fast,
I missed.”
“Your dad was on the other side of it,” she said, finishing his thought.
    Tears rolled down Jeff’s cheeks. 
    “My mom, she never forgave me. 
She started drinking at the funeral and never stopped.  She used to beat me and
scream at me and blame me for ruining her life,” he said. 
    “I’m so sorry,” Jenny said.
    “I was smart enough to know it was
an accident.  But I still killed him.  I swore I’d never pick up a gun again. 
And I never did, not until today.  And what’s the first thing I do?  I kill two
men,” he shook his head.  “I'm nothing but a murderer.”
    Jenny pushed him up off her
shoulder and bolted to her feet.  She stared down at him, that cold look he’d
seen before in her eyes came back, beaming out icy rays of death. 
    “Get over it,” she said.  He stared
up at her, confused.
    “Get over it,” she said again.  “I
don’t know if you noticed, but the whole fucking world had fallen down around
us.  There’s dead people walking and everyone that’s left other than us seems
to be crazy.  We don’t have any more time for feeling sorry for ourselves.  We
can’t afford to.  We’re probably going to have