Authors: Rissa Blakeley
On several occasions, Shawnie had stepped in between Gage and their father when they were about to come to blows. Later on, Gage understood that she was protecting herself, as well. She didn’t want her brother to go to jail, which would leave her alone with the sick bastard.
Living a life enduring sexual abuse, left Gage stone-faced. So cold. No life. Zero emotions. But he refused to tell Shawnie about what the bastard did to him. He didn’t want to burden her with it. Swallowing all of his emotions, he did what he was told to do, with some hope that if he obeyed, he would be spared from at least one session.
Gage was also blessed with the bastard’s unique, angry rages. Control was what he craved. He had no control over his life with his father around. Gage struggled in school and his father told him to drop out so he could help with the farm even more than he already was. Then he instructed Shawnie to do the same, but he had ulterior motives for her.
Dropping to his knees in the field that he was standing in, Gage was still reeling over the memory of walking in on their father raping his sister when he was sixteen. He wished he had the balls to murder him then. He wanted to. It would have been completely justified.
Gage looked toward the sky again. “I’m so sorry, Shawnie. I shoulda killed him then.” A shudder ran through his body and tears ran down his dirty, tanned face. He grabbed onto his tousled locks and rocked forward, trying to calm himself.
Minutes prior to him leaving the farm, Gage had put a bullet in his sister’s head. An undead bit her the night before. While drifting in and out of sleep, he spent the night contemplating, worrying and completely overwhelmed by his emotions. There were moments he didn’t think he would ever stop crying. Then the moments of rage and moments of feeling alone hit him hard.
Without Shawnie, he felt hopeless. It was the hardest decision he had ever made, but it was the right one for his sister. Gage couldn’t bear to watch her roam about the land like a lost, dead soul. He killed the undead, and the last bullet that he had left was saved for his beloved sister.
He stood and shook the thoughts out of his mind. Blankness was what he wished for. If he had one more bullet left in his gun, it would’ve had his name on it, giving him the harmony that he needed. From that point on, he decided he wasn’t going to take shit from anyone ever again. He was his own man.
He was free.
The black SUV that was slowly rumbling down the dusty, gravel road dragged him from his thoughts. Off in the distance, he saw an elderly man walking along the edge of the road. Gage believed it was Mr. Reynolds from down the road, about three miles away. The SUV pulled up so that he couldn’t see the man anymore.
Gage stood and watched a rather tall, body builder-type hop out of the truck. He decided that he was going to check out the situation. He grabbed his small backpack, holding only a few articles of clothing, off the ground and lumbered in that direction.
I was trolling into the rural parts, looking for my next fix. I really should have talked to Quinn about my issue, but she would’ve probably ran away or shot me. I didn’t anticipate finding a fix would be so bloody difficult. Every time I found someone to drain, I could go about a week without another fix, but by the end of the week, my body was more than ready. I was in dire need of a steady source.
Just as I was thinking about my predicament, I spotted an elderly man hobbling along the edge of the road. A slight tinge of guilt ran through me, but it was me or the old man. At this point, it was all about survival of the fittest, every man for himself. Plus, I needed to get back to Quinn. I didn’t want her to be alone for too long.
Slowing to a stop next to the man, I hopped out of my truck. “Sir, are you all right?”
Not for long.
He turned around, a confused look on his face. “I can’t find my house.”
I placed my hands on my hips and looked around. “Do you know what road you’re on?”
“No. I was supposed to meet my wife and boy for supper. I was out milking, but I’ve lost my house.”
I was pretty sure it was dementia because there wasn’t a “moo” in the air anywhere around there. “Well, I can help you, sir.” I walked up to him.
“Charlie?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Is that you?”
“No. My name is Gunther.” Definitely lost his marbles, unless Charlie was a giant Brit. Time to put him out of his misery.
I grabbed his arm and yanked him close to me. He yelled and I cupped my hand around his mouth. As he struggled as much as a frail elderly man could, I held him tight to my body. I pulled out my knife and jammed it into his carotid, watching the lovely saltiness pour from the wound. I latched on and felt him fade in my arms, drawing out as much as I could. He fell to the ground and I about went with him.
“Fffuuck…” I shook my head.
The world was spinning around me. I stumbled backwards, trying to make it stop. I fell into the side of my truck, reeling. I was panting and trying to focus, unsuccessfully. My thoughts were echoing in my head. It was a huge high for me, and from such a little man.
A man
? I looked around and saw an elderly man twitching on the side of the road. I looked around as a massive flood of paranoia crashed over me. Every pair of eyes left in the world were peering at me. I looked back down at the man, then walked back to him, stumbling over my own boots.
He was dead. I had killed again.
Fuck me.
I was a serial killer. I pressed my carnage-ridden palms into my eyes.
Just cause…just cause.
I needed to take his life or I would become undead.
Wait. Was I already undead
? My hands shook as I examined them, turning them over several times. They looked like they should, not gray or rotting. All the skin and digits were there. I needed to tighten up or I would’ve gone off the deep end.
A glimmer of light near my feet caught my attention. My knife. My knees gave out while reaching for it, putting me down next to the old man. Once I managed to curl my fingers around the heavy handle, I jammed the knife into his skull. I struggled to a standing position and held onto my truck while walking around it. Crawling into the driver’s seat, I sat there for a while, waiting for the high to subside.
Slowly, I started to get back to normal…whatever that was. I hated the paranoid shit. It didn’t happen all too often, but when it did, it made me batshit crazy. Once the nervous tic exhausted itself, I got back out of the truck and rolled the man into the ditch.
Footsteps approached from behind, causing me to spin, gun in hand. “Was he one of those walking dead people things?” he asked as he peered over into the ditch.
“Uh…yeah. I took care of him, though. Poor sap. Bloody awful to see.” I tucked my gun away. He was a young, strong lad, and might be useful. “What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?”
“Gunther.” He looked me over. I had the feeling he had trust issues. Can’t say as I blame him in the slightest.
“I was out lookin’ for somethin’ to eat. I ran outta food.”
“Do you have a family? Or anyone with you?”
“Do you?”
“I might.” The lad was infuriating me. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“Do you?”
I shook my head at his insufferable attitude. “Why the attitude?”
“I don’t know you,” he muttered.
“All right. I don’t have time for this banter,” I said as I headed for the truck.
“Gage. No family. I killed ’em all.”
I stopped and looked back at him. “I have a woman with me back where I’m staying. If you can keep your dirty mitts to yourself, you can stay with us for a bit.”
“I can.”
I statured up to him. “I swear, if you harm a single hair on her head…”
Gage interrupted, “I would never harm a woman.” He left it at that and I nodded.
“Get in.” I hopped in and put my pack in the back seat. “You from around here?” He nodded as he sat down in the passenger seat, dropping his pack onto the floor. “Are there any more houses still standing down this way?”
“Yeah, a couple.”
“Let’s go see if we can find some supplies.” Gage nodded again.
As I drove off, I kept feeling his eyes burning into my body. I wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to figure out, but he had already rubbed me the wrong way.
We rolled up to another typical farmhouse about a half-mile down from where I picked up Mr. Personality. “I’ll check the barn for anything useful.” Gage jumped out and went right to the barn. I pursed my lips, knowing that he wasn’t going to take direction well. I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Maybe I should have left him standing in the road.
I headed to the house and peered through the windows. As far as I could tell, it was empty of anything, living or not. The door was unlocked, as if they were inviting me in. Not that I couldn’t open it even if it was locked. I cleared the house and walked into the kitchen.
The cabinets were loaded with items that we could use. Everything from unopened boxes of cereal to tins of fruits and vegetables, which all came as a surprise to me. I thought that whoever lived there would have taken the basic essentials…unless they were undead somewhere.
I opened a couple other cabinets, looking around for a box or a bag of some sort. I found a bunch of reusable shopping bags folded together.
I spent the following ten minutes loading up everything that would be useful. Then I hit up a closet that was in the hall across from the bathroom. “Score,” I mumbled to myself. It was loaded with a ton of personal hygiene products. I even grabbed all the female products because I was a thoughtful bloke. Chalk one up for me. I yanked out the blankets and there were even extra pillows.
“You ’n here?!” Gage called from the front of the house.
“Yeah. Anything in the barn?”
“Nah. Jus’ hay, dry feed, stuff like that.” He found me in the hallway.
“Start looking through the bedrooms for anything we can use.”
“Aye, aye, cap’n.” He rumbled off into a bedroom and he started going through the dresser drawers. I did the same.
The bedroom I chose had to be the master. I opened the closet door. All the men’s clothing was too small for me or Gage. The women’s clothes seemed like they could fit Quinn. I grabbed the essentials: bottoms, tops, jackets.
When I opened the drawers to the dresser, my fingers flitted across a pair of lacy underthings. I picked them up, dangling them from my fingertips.
“You jackin’ off to that shit, or you packin’ it?” My eyes narrowed as I glanced over at the doorway. Gage was leaning on the frame. Fucker had better watch his tongue, or I would cut it out.
He had his arms full of linens and who knows what else. “I was wondering if they would fit Quinn.”
“That’s the woman?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t sure so I threw them back in the drawer. The next drawer was full of socks. I grabbed several pairs. After plucking the pillows and blankets off the bed, I said, “Why don’t you start taking this stuff out to the truck…if you don’t mind.” I folded up the clothes and blankets and stuffed another shopping bag full.
After dropping the bags by the front door, I checked out the office that was just off the living room. There was a wall of books. Scanning through them, I picked out a bunch old biographies and non-fiction for me.
There was nothing better than a factual book. Since I didn’t have a formal education, it was the only way I learned anything. Never set foot in a true classroom…
ever
. I was lucky they taught me how to read and write. All other skills were learned by watching or doing.
Then I started to think about what Quinn might like. Most woman like those romance books—sexy, big cocked millionaires who drove fast and fucked hard. Sounded oddly familiar. There were a bunch of those kinds of books. Plus, there were a few with vampires and werewolves lingering on the shelves. I rolled my eyes. Wasn’t I the nice bloke? Most definitely.
I grabbed the last shopping bag and loaded it to the top with books. Gage walked back in and grabbed another load of supplies. I picked up what was left and headed out.
Opening the front door of the house, I announced, “Honey, I’m home!” Quinn chuckled as she came out of her room. Her eyes were red and puffy, like she had been crying. Was she scared that I left her alone? Jesus, how would I fix that? She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Gage.