rest.
Rolling his
legs over the side of the couch, he sat up, took a moment to fully
wake up, then hit the bathroom before double checking the kitchen
for any food. Like last night, there was nothing.
It was an invitation for trouble, but
this thing with April had to be settled. It was getting to the
point he’d be of no use to Tracy or even himself if he kept going
through life with one eye looking back over his
shoulder.
Quietly, he
went to the bedroom where she slept and gently opened the door so
as not to wake her. She lay there in the bed on top of the
mattress, her body twisted like an S, mouth open, eyes closed with
seeming effort—exhausted.
“Sorry,” he
whispered. “You’re going to hate me after this, but I got to go do
something. Hope you read my note and do what it says. Hope you’ll
understand, which I think you will.” He closed the door. “I hope.”
Walking down the stairs, he added, “Good bye, Tracy.”
Joe took the car keys from the landing closet and went out
into the street, eyes peeled for the undead. He stood there pushing
the unlock button on the keychain, listening intently for
the ka-chunk of a door unlocking. He couldn’t hear
anything no matter which way he faced or how high he held the
keychain. The last resort was to try the panic button, something he
didn’t want to do, but right now didn’t have a choice. He pressed
it a couple of times to no result, but on the third the loud blare
of a horn honking shook him and he fumbled with the keychain,
turning it off. The flashing red lights of the car had been a few
driveways over. Who knew why it was there. Careful any undead might
have heard the noise and had come looking, he went to the dark gray
SUV and used the key on the door. Once inside, he started the
vehicle and was relieved to see a half tank of gas.
After
driving it over to the house, he went inside. Tracy was still
sleeping. He wrote her a note, left the keys beside the piece of
paper, then raided the kitchen drawers for cooking knives. He found
two paring knives, a steak knife, a cleaver and a large meat
tenderizer mallet. He left the cleaver and mallet by the note, and
wove the remaining three knives through his belt, like needles
through cloth, keeping them secure and within easy
reach.
Joe went out
the door alone, facing the world of the undead like he had been in
the beginning.
* * * *
Laying on
her side, huddled up with her legs tucked by her chest, Tracy
shivered and reached for the blanket. Finding none, she drifted off
to sleep again only to come to some time later, still cold. She
opened her eyes, checked the bed over, upset there was no quilt or
cover or—
There’s not supposed to be, she realized, coming back to the land of the
waking.
She
stretched, yawned and closed her eyes a few moments before the
chill became too much and she had to get out of bed to get some
blood pumping. After using the bathroom, she went down to the
living room to see if Joe was up. He wasn’t on the
couch.
“Joe?” she
said, loud enough he should hear her even a couple of rooms away.
“Hey, Joe?” Nothing but silence.
Tracy
checked the house, top floor to bottom, every room, even the
basement and near the freezer. Joe wasn’t in the house. She went to
the garage, thinking maybe he wanted some air but didn’t want to go
all the way outside. The garage was empty, too. Rubbing her arms to
keep warm as she walked, she looked out the windows to see if he
was outside. He wasn’t, but she saw an SUV in the
driveway.
“Come on,”
she said. “Are you serious?”
She moved
through the house and went back in the kitchen, noticed the note on
the table.
“Oh no, he didn’t.” She went over to
it and pulled it out from under the cleaver.
Tracy,
Sorry for running out, but have to look into something. To
be honest, I was too scared to tell you. I know you’ll be super mad
at me for this, but it has to be done. I’ll explain if I see you
again. Stay here. I left