Free 3.2 As the World Dies Untold Tales Vol. 2 by Rhiannon Frater Page B

were revealed.
    “ They got me when I was coming out the window,” Mr. Cloy sobbed. “It’s the bite that does it.”
    Ken shivered. The bloodied, feral faces in the window groaned. The dead creatures stretched grasping hands in his direction, their milky eyes glowering up at him and Lenore.
    No one spoke as the moans and howls the dead filled the air.
     
     

 
     
    8.
    At Hell’s Mouth
     
    “ This is bullshit,” Ken declared.
    Lenore shushed him as he stomped his foot and crossed his arms in irritation.
    They stood at the edge of the building watching Mr. Cloy. Their friend and neighbor sat in silence, arms resting on his knees and his head bowed. Beneath him, the zombies clawed at the bars and edges of the window.
    The heat of the sun weighed down on Ken’s shoulders and made them itch. Perspiration slid down his spine. He frowned. He hated being sweaty and hot, but he didn’t want to leave Mr. Cloy to face his fate alone.
    “ We can’t just leave him down there,” Ken whispered to Lenore.
    “ We can try and make him comfortable. It’s freaking hot out here,” Lenore admitted. “Go get him stuff. I’m going to stay here with him.”
    Ken hurried downstairs and threw together items to make Mr. Cloy more comfortable. The air mattress and its pump were the first things he pulled out of his closet. He added an umbrella and a small fan that ran on batteries. Clean cotton sheets were added to the pile along with a pillow. In the kitchen, he tossed several water bottles and some cookies and chips into a tote bag. Finally, he lugged the whole thing upstairs, nearly tripping a few times, but managing to reach the top without falling down the stairs.
    Lenore sat on the edge of the building staring out over the town. Ken nearly fell to his knees by the time he reached her with his load.
    “ He’s not talking,” she whispered to Ken.
    “ Well, he’s, like, going to die and be one of those things,” Ken said in a low voice back to her. “How would you feel?”
    “ I can hear you,” Mr. Cloy said, slowly raising his head. He looked pale and was crying. “You ain’t gotta whisper.”
    “ I brought you stuff!” Ken heaved the duffel bag with the air mattress and bedding over the side of the building and dropped it down next to Mr. Cloy.
    Mr. Cloy got to his feet and Ken lowered the rest of the stuff into his friend’s waiting arms. Mr. Cloy sighed and held the bag close to his chest. “Thanks, Ken. I do appreciate this.”
    Lenore sat in silence and viewed the chaos happening in their small town. Her expression was inscrutable. Ken sat next to her and didn’t say a word.
    Mr. Cloy set up the air mattress and propped the umbrella so he could hide under its shade. He sat eating cookies as the dead moaned beneath his shelter.
    Ken tried not to watch what was going on in the town, but he couldn’t help it. Cars raced around with small packs of bloodied people chasing them. A few houses were under siege with the walking dead beating on the doors and windows. Gunshots barked in the distance and Ken heard a chainsaw start somewhere nearby.
    “ You guys don’t have to stay out here with me,” Mr. Cloy said finally. “I know you guys did your best by me, but I gotta face the Maker on my own now. I’m just...I just thought the rapture would come before now.”
    “ Maybe this isn’t the Tribulation,” Ken suggested.
    “ I dunno. Dead coming out of their graves is somewhere in Revelations.” Mr. Cloy’s dark hair was glistening with sweat and he kept rubbing his bushy mustache.
    “ Well, it don’t matter if it is or not. It’s just a bad day all around,” Lenore decided somberly.
    Somewhere nearby, a baby was crying piteously.
    “ Yeah,” Mr. Cloy said.
    “ Mr. Cloy-”
    “ Leslie,” Mr. Cloy corrected Ken. “My name is Leslie.”
    “ Really?” Ken raised an eyebrow.
    “ That’s why I never use it. Sometimes go by Les, but then people said I was “less-than” and it just got to be an old