Through The Valley by Yates B.D

Author:Yates, B.D. [Yates, B.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2021-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10: Blinded and Bound

When Emmit came to, he had a few tantalizing seconds to think that maybe he had dreamed all of it. He half expected to roll off his sunken, haggard old couch and land on the floor of the apartment that was no longer his, trying to comprehend the sheer scope and magnitude of the night terror he had just had.

After those scant few seconds, the pain managed to catch up with his dazed brain, and Emmit groaned. His head felt like a paper bag full of broken glass, and his nose was plugged solid. He snuffed as hard as he could, feeling the blockage in the bridge of his nose give way and his throat clog with mucus and blood. He grimaced and spat it away from him as hard as he could. Some of the nasty mixture hooked into his lip, and on impulse he moved to wipe it away— but couldn't.

His hands were bound, tightly, behind his back. His ankles were lashed together too, constricted by knotted loops of rope.

Oh, shit.

That small sentiment was all Emmit could muster, but it described his situation perfectly. He squinted and blinked, trying to scope out where he had been taken through blurred vision. His right eye burned furiously; he assumed that meant there was blood in it.

Jesus, he wished he had been born with better eyes. He could sense that he had been tossed into a small wooden box; it didn't take a genius to deduce that he must be inside Roy's shed. The meat locker behind the cabin, complete with an undead guard skewered to the ground outside. The room flickered with a dull orange glow and smelled strongly of woodsmoke. Emmit rolled and flopped awkwardly, following the light source to one of the rear corners, where a small stone fire pit had been built. It looked like a miniature wishing well, only instead of mossy water and coins, it held a small fire that was fighting for its life. Above him he could hear a spectral moan, and his clammy face and damp forehead were periodically kissed by a blessed cool breeze. Roy hadn't taken the time to build a chimney for his meat locker, but there was at least a smoke hole in the roof.

Good. I won't suffocate before he gets the chance to finish me off.

Emmit realized then that it wasn't the light haze of smoke in the tiny shed that was obscuring his vision. It was his glasses, or rather, his lack of glasses. The old familiar panic sensation began to throb in his midsection; the feeling of waking up late for work and then realizing you couldn't find your car keys or your wallet. The feeling of the rent's due date coming and going without being paid. The feeling you got when you dreamed about going to school and walking past all the pretty giggling girls, just to realize that you hadn't remembered to dress yourself and your bits and pieces were swinging freely for all to behold.

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