Battle Axe by Spencer Alan

Author:Spencer, Alan [Spencer, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-06-16T16:00:00+00:00

Retreat

Bypassing a terrible memory and facing a harsher predicament, Boyd returned to the situation at hand.

“I can’t keep going much longer,” Boyd spoke without breath. “I’m bleeding too much.”

Cindy checked him over. “How did it bite you?”

“A dead bitch dug their fucking teeth into my clavicle.” He lowered to his knees and leaned against a tree. “Listen, you should leave me. I’m only going to get you killed.”

Cindy wasn't convinced. “I’m not going to be alone in this. We can find something to bandage you up. I’m sure there’s an end to these woods. There's somewhere we can hide. We can’t turn back. They’ll be waiting for us. I'm sticking it out with you. I don't care what you say."

One mode of reasoning kept Boyd going.

Cindy pointed ahead of them at a point deeper in the woods, “Hey, look at that!”

Ahead, through the collection of trees, a house materialized. Behind it, was a large lake. It was the color of an oil slick in the night. There was no starlight to make it glimmer. A white picket fence around the property was half gone. Boyd imagined the dead things using them as bludgeons or false legs.

"Let's find out if anyone's home," Boyd said. "Keep your eyes open."

Together, they hurried up the steps and tried the door. It came right open, and what was inside was a surprise to Boyd. No pictures hung on the living room walls. There was only basic furniture and appliances. Boyd eyed the floor for blood and found none. He inspected the kitchen and the two bedrooms. Nothing.

It was no one’s house, as far as Boyd was concerned.

“I’ll check the bathroom for a first aid kit,” Cindy said, searching down the hallway. “At least I can wash the wound clean with water, if nothing else.”

Boyd peered out the backyard window. More woods were behind them. How many miles would it take before they arrived at another place to hide?—or at worst, a concrete wall.

The way was clear, so Boyd rested his M-16 against the wall. The emptiness of the room was like a bad omen. Something awful had happened within the house. He couldn't put his finger on it.

“The place is ready for condemning." Cindy rejoined him in the living room. “Sorry, I didn’t find anything in the bathroom. Everything’s missing. There's no plumbing either.”

“I’m starting to feel a little better,” Boyd said. “The bleeding has slowed. It didn’t help to have my heart rate shooting through the roof earlier.”

Boyd peered outside into the backyard. He couldn't shake the feeling something bad was going to happen at any moment. Stacks of chopped wood lined the outside wall, but there wasn’t a fireplace in the living room. Three steel barrels were positioned outside next to a compost bin.

“I don’t think we have much time before it gets crazy again," Boyd said. "I want to check the basement, and then the backyard. Someone lived here. There has to be a sign of the fact somewhere. I want to know who they were.

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