Free Timothy 01: Timothy by Mark Tufo Page A

Halfway through my colon, I would imagine,” I answered.
    Fred began anew with the wall drilling holes. I waited until he ran out.
    “ Fred-Fred-Fred, what would Jesus think of you tearing up his home?” I asked.
    Fred began to drive bullets back into his gun, shit how many of the damn things did he have? I’ve gotta eat—Hugh is a growing boy. I laughed at my own joke. I was still on my hands and knees when I looked over to the battered body of Merle, still clutching his pistol, looked like a Glock but I couldn’t be sure, never had much use for them.
    ‘ Can zombies use guns?’ I asked Hugh.
    ‘ Zombie? Hungry.’
    ‘ Something new and unusual my tapewormie friend.’
    I half crawled excitedly over to Merle, and reached for the gun. I could move my fingers but it was difficult almost like they were wrapped together with duct tape. At first I looked like I was trying to paw the gun from him, my hand was moving as one whole unit as opposed to five separate parts. I had to concentrate hard to move each digit independent of the other. The problem arose when I moved on to the next finger the previous one would revert to something akin to a claw pose. “How fucking cliché,” I told Merle. “A zombie with claw hands.”
    A fresh volley of rounds broke through the silence, Fred’s shots were eerily close. ‘Dumbass.’ He must have heard me talking. The one good thing about a claw hand was that it closely resembled the way my hand would look if I was holding a gun. I managed to finally wrap my left hand around it, which was funny considering I’m a righty, but it was the easier of the two to work with. Now how long was it going to take to send the trigger pull thought to my finger and then have it react? That was the million dollar question.
    Anna was watching my every move, I could hear Fred going back upstairs, probably for more rounds or his nerve had finally broke. I stood up thrusting the small pistol jerkily away from my body.
    “ How’s that for a nightmare, Sister? A zombie with a gun. Scares the hell out of me and I’m the one doing it.” I laughed. Anna was crying now. “Oh I’m sorry did I upset you, I shouldn’t have used the H E double hockey sticks word in the house of the Lord.” And then I couldn’t help it, I full on laughed, the sound of it reverberating throughout the entire quiet church. Anna shrunk down into herself. Not a peep from Fred or Zak; I didn’t blame either one.
    “ I’m ready to give myself up!” I yelled to Fred, my gaze fixed tightly on the hand holding the gun.
    Anna said, “No,” softly.
    “ You say something, sweetheart?” I shifted my gaze toward her.
    ‘ Eat it!’ Hugh demanded.
    ‘‘ It’, Hugh? She is one of the most perfect specimens I have ever seen in my life. I wish I could fuck her before I ate her. Shit, Hugh, Anna there is fine dining at its best. Merle, in comparison, was like eating at Chuck E Cheese. No, we’re going to savor every tasty morsel.’ I must have been salivating excessively because drool was pooling at my feet. This did not go unnoticed by Anna, although she did not move. Where was she going to go?
    “ Why don’t you come upstairs, clown, and receive your salvation!” Fred yelled.
    “ I’d like to, Fred, I really would, but it seems I’ve busted up my leg something fierce in the fall. You’re going to have to come down and administer the justice I so desperately need and want.”
    “ Well, you’ve got to know I don’t believe you, clown.”
    “ It’s Hugh, dammit!” I yelled. “I… I mean Timothy,” I said with much less force.
    “ Oh, that’s rich.” Fred yelled down. “A psychotic clown with an associative disorder. Or is it dissociative?”
    “ You asking me?” Zak asked. “I don’t even have a clue what the hell you’re talking about.”
    “ Fuck you, Fred!” I screamed. “How about this then? Get your sweet ass over here,” I said to Anna. Her head was shaking so violently back and forth I