I was forcibly put back into a crouch with the vise-like grip of BT’s hand on my arm.
“I feel sorry for your penis,” I told him, rubbing my arm after he let go.
Tracy and BT both looked at me. “What?” they asked.
“Nothing…sorry.”
BT pointed down the road, my heart thudded in despair as I watched Eliza striding purposefully towards the burgeoning group with Azile at the center. The group parted quickly as Eliza stepped in, no one wanted to be that close to the devil, not even the ones that had struck a bargain with her. The slap and the resulting bright red spot on the side of Azile’s face was easily visible from where we sat.
“How did you get him to find you?” Eliza asked coolly.
“I do not know what you are asking?” Azile said placing her hand to her sore face.
“That makes sense.” I said aloud. I had been wondering how it had been possible, the chain of coincidences was entirely too great. I did find it funny though that I was willing to wipe all of that away and blame it on a spell cast by a witch. What a weird fucking world I was now living in.
“Are you a lunatic?” BT asked softly, not believing that I would say anything with Eliza that close.
“Probably,” I told him, my feelings slightly bruised.
Tracy gave me the stink eye, meaning that if I spoke again, she was going to twist my ear off my head.
“It matters little what you say you don’t know. You have accomplished what I needed anyway,” Eliza said as she looked around her. “Michael, I can ‘feel’ you…muted somewhat, but I can feel you. If you do not come out now, I will rip out the throat of this pretty little thing that you risked your life to save. Making your actions all for naught.” Eliza placed her hand around the front part of Azile’s neck.
“Mike?” Tracy started.
“You know I have to. Eliza is not one for threats.”
“Shit, let’s do this,” BT said as he stood up with me and Tracy.
“Oh look,” Eliza said as she pushed Azile away. “It appears that the prodigal bastard has returned. Come out here and take off whatever that is on your head.”
I did as she told me and nearly shattered my knee caps as I fell to the ground. Luckily for me I was still on the grass of the shoulder. Eliza was ripping though my mind like a seven-year-old spoiled brat high on Red Bull through a Toys R Us. She was pulling thoughts off the shelves and letting them cascade to the ground, not caring the damage she was wreaking.
***
“You dared to defy me?” Eliza asked coolly.
Mike didn’t even have the mental capacity to reply, especially with any sort of wit.
“You’re killing him!” Tracy screamed as blood was running from Mike’s nose.
“Not yet, but soon,” Eliza said releasing her psychic grip upon Mike’s psyche.
“How could you let this happen?” Tracy asked of Tomas, who looked away.
“Excellent,” Eliza said as BT emerged from the woods. “With the three of you destroyed, the rest will capitulate quickly.”
“I think you overestimate our importance,” Mike said with his head hanging down. “And underestimate theirs.” He got up slowly, a river of red still flowing freely from him.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” Tomas said.
Mike looked over at him, still not able to reconcile who stood before him as the boy Tommy he had known.
“Will your apology allow you to sleep at night?” BT asked.
“I do not sleep anymore,” Tomas said honestly.
“Good, I hope it’s torture for you,” Tracy said. “We should have left you up on the WalMart roof to die.”
Tomas flinched as if the words had been a physical entity hurled at him.
“Come here, Michael.” Eliza said. “I had thought that I would like to stretch out your pain and misery longer, but now that you stand before me I only want your death which has eluded me for far too long.”
Instead of running like his head wanted him too, Mike’s legs betrayed him and brought him forward into the clutches of Eliza.
“NO!” Tracy screamed as she and BT rushed forward.
***
“NO!” Gary yelled as he stepped back.
The lag bolts sunk into the cement were moving as the heavy zombies repeatedly attacked the door.
“How is that possible?” Gary asked as he grabbed an aluminum chair and placed it up against the door as a prop.
“Force plus mass,” Mad Jack said as he was thinking of how to delay the zombies, halting them at this point was an exercise in futility.
The best he could come up with on short notice and even shorter supplies was to wedge some two by fours against the door and the lolly column a few feet away.
Gary had put a couch parallel to the door and was laying magazines across it so he would have easy access.
“When you start to hear the support beams cracking you won’t have much more than thirty seconds to get back to the shelter. You understand?” Mad Jack asked as he hurriedly went upstairs to tell Ron the status.
“Beams start to crack, thirty seconds to let everyone get back to the shelter. Got it,” Gary said, making a clicking sound out of the side of his mouth.
Tony came down next followed by Justin and Travis. They wordlessly took up spots behind the couch as the booming of the zombies became louder; perhaps realizing that a viable food source was near.
“Any room for me?” Ron asked as he got to the bottom step.
Gary scooted over.
“Five Talbots ought to be able to do it,” Ron said as a lag bolt tinkled to the ground. There was one more round of magazine checks and making sure the weapons were off safe.
“
“Nothing, just wasn’t ready for cheesy 80’s songs,” Ron replied.
“Cheesy 80’s song!” Gary said aghast. “That’s a classic!” He began anew.
“
“This might be important, but Mad Jack said that once the boards start to crack, you have thirty seconds to evacuate and get back to the shelter,” Gary told the group.
“You?” Ron asked.
Gary shrugged, the two-by-fours were beginning to bend under the strain, and light was spilling all around the door as the seal was broken.
“For honor, for freedom, and most importantly…for family,” Tony said as he rested the barrel of his rifle on the back of the couch.
The two-by-fours blew apart, the heavy cellar door slammed against the wall. A bulker that seemed surprised it had made it through took a step towards the rifles and came face to face with oblivion, the heavy metal helmet proving incompetent as the bullets entered its face and went into the brain cavity destroying the nerve center of the beast. He was pushed to the side; even as he thudded to the ground another took his place. Travis’ next shot pushed the zombie’s head back as the bullet struck the metal plating, it locked eye contact on the one that dared shoot at him and began its fifteen foot traversal, Tony’s shot caught the zombie on the bridge of the nose, the cartilage erupted; white, wet, soft material sprayed against the far wall.
The light was blotted out every time a bulker entered the basement, as effectual as an eclipse. They grunted and groaned as they pushed through each almost wedging its enormous size in the doorframe. Rifle smoke filled the
