28. Hush

Jessica all but crashed through the metal frame behind us, still shooting blindly into the screeching thing that seemed awfully determined to make her stop.

“Get in!” I pushed her hands away after I heard her gun click empty (not that she had ceased firing) and shoved the door to the kitchens shut, hauling myself against it while Harry slumped next to me, arm cradled close to his chest. “You okay?” I asked.

“Wrist is sprained,” he wheezed. “Better not be broken. That thing knocked the wind outta me, s’all.”

“It’ll knock more than that out if we don’t block the door.” Jessica holstered her empty weapon and moved to the hulking steel cabinets meant to house pots, pans and other utensils. “Help me shove one of these in the way.”

I braced on the door. “And wait for that thing to get in here too? I can’t.” I glanced down at Harry. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know you’ve already—”

He was up before I could even finish my plea, determination squaring his shoulders in a second wind I could only help but envy. With a cacophony of grunting, expletives and desperate entreaties with inanimate objects, the two of them managed to work together for long enough to wrestle a cabinet over the door. Without a second to lose, too – the moment the space was covered the blockade gave a great shudder as a heavy body came slamming against it.

I backed up, nearly treading on the hostile’s corpse, still hastily covered by a tablecloth. Red had begun to seep through the places where a face might be. I swallowed down bile. No matter how much gore I’ve seen so far, I don’t think this will ever stop surprising me.

“What do we do now?” Jessica asked, shooting a glance at Harry, whose head was tilted back. I followed his gaze and groaned.

“You can’t be serious,” I said.

“Give me a boost. We’ll pull each other up after.” Harry stepped away and went hunting for a stepladder or a footstool to make matters easier.

I chewed my lip and stared up at the square of mesh covering the vent through which the hostile had fallen. I tried not to think about how many more might be waiting up there for us, or about the thing outside responsible for killing the one on the ground. I tried hard.

September 22, 2015 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: apocalypse, author, blog, creative, creativity, dystopia, fiction blog, horror, midas plague, project, suspense, write, writer | Leave a comment