Timothy 02: Tim2 (17 page)

“Where you going, fat boy?” she asked.

I ignored her as I sat, my back up against the side she had no trajectory on.

“Just trying to honor my end of the agreement,” I told her as I scoped my aisle out. To my right on the other side were some old bags of briquettes. Directly above them were the cans of lighter fluid.

Off to my left were cute stuffed animals all resplendent in pink ribbons and bows, a cheery smile plastered across their faces. They would never again be used as a syrupy afterthought for young love. ‘I really love you, here’s a stupid stuffed animal that proves it, now get on your knees and show me how much you care for me.’ I smiled. I had gone from a pessimistic outlook to completely optimistic. I could only hope Yorley tasted as spicy as she sounded.

Getting the stuffed animal would be easy enough since it was on my side of the aisle, the lighter fluid would require my being exposed, but unless she had a large streak of luck running, this should go fairly well.

“You’re going the wrong way then.”

I slid down and grabbed a pink teddy bear holding a heart that said ‘Would you be mine?’ seemed apt. I moved down until I was across from the barbecue section.

“Lot of movement down there, Tim-Tim. That makes me nervous.”

“Just trying to get comfortable, Yorley. Ever try to sit on concrete? The cold seeps into your ass and up your spine.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

She had just finished talking when I got into a kneeling position, I launched towards the other side of the aisle. Mostly crash-landing as I slammed into the unyielding
steel shelving. I think I snapped my anklebone which was actually a blessing in disguise as it yielded some movement in the joint. The pain was minimal as I think Hugh’s handiwork had severed the nerve endings. A bullet crashed into a cooler not more than six inches from my head. I reached up and pulled at least five or six of the lighter fluid bottles down. They crashed down next to me as I fell awkwardly. I pulled one to me and scooted back. The next round sparked off the floor where my leg had been only a millisecond before. By now, Yorley had a clue of what I was up to.

“Don’t even think it, Tim-Tim,” she yelled down. “The first time you poke your head up I’ll blow it off.”

“Hasn’t that been the plan all along, Yorley? If you’re going to make a powerful threat, it has to be something new, something in addition to what is already out on the table.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”

I could hear murmured talking in the office. I didn’t catch much, but the one sentence I did hear was enough to let me know the gist of it.

It was a male’s voice, so it had to be the store manager, Calum. “I’m not going down there, he has a gun.” The voice was laden with enough fear to make me sufficiently happy with how terrified I had him. I didn’t catch another, so it was safe to say that the woman – whose skull I had cracked – was not quite battle-ready, and in all likelihood would never be again once this fight was over.

Would what I was planning on doing be sufficient impetus to bring Yorley down? Odds were yes. I needed to move quickly before that happened, I wanted her to come down on my terms, hopefully smoke-blind and choking. I soaked the bear in lighter fluid and tossed the squishy little bastard in the air. It wasn’t heavy enough; I needed it to crash through the window and spread its warmth and my joy all over that office. I was convinced my best heave would fall well short of its mark.

Luck was still somewhat on my side as the tape was in the same aisle, but again, it was on the opposite side. Every time I moved, my parachute pants made enough noise to disturb Repugnant up in her Ivory Tower. “Nothing to it but to do it.”

I scooted halfway down the aisle, rolls of black electrical and silver duct tape were tantalizingly close. I could almost feel the crosshairs of her rifle as I once again jumped up and over. My arm bent at an awkward angle as a bullet smashed through my upper arm, cracking it in two.

“FUCK!” I screamed, shuddering in pain and shock from the force of the injury. “Hugh, help!” I didn’t care who heard. Although that plea for help most likely saved my life. Yorley had to be thinking that I was out of commission and that now would have been a perfect time to finish me off. But if there was a ‘Hugh’ in the mix she would need to be wary of him as well. I was cursing and whimpering as Hugh took his sweet time coming to my aid.

“Did that hurt?” she asked.

I ignored her. If I spoke, there would be no way I could possibly hide the torture I was feeling. That was one more reason she would deign not to come down and investigate. She was still operating under the false impression I was human and the grievous wound she had just inflicted should be more than enough to finish me off in this abysmal lack of a health care system we now found ourselves in.

Hugh did quiet down the pain receptors this time; a flood of dopamine coursed through my system. I sighed in the relief of it and slouched back.

“STILL,” Hugh admonished me.

I grunted as Hugh started sliding chunks of bone back into place. It seemed like hours of agonizing bone knitting as I sat there.

“You broke my arm, Yorley. This is really going to set our friendship back a little bit.”

“Oh, you’re still awake. Thought I’d lost you for a minute. If you do by any chance pass out, please rest assured that I am going to cut your throat as soon as you do.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I winced. I watched as the skin under my arm rippled, partly from the amassing of Hugh-ites but mostly from the large chunk of damaged bone being positioned back into its rightful spot. “Where’d you learn to shoot?”

“Why are you still alive? I’ve seen blood sprays from you twice. Maybe neither was a kill shot, but you should be curled up in a ball whimpering for your bitch of a mother.”

“Hey there’s no need to go there, I haven’t been dragging your family into our discussion.”

“How very rude of me, I tend to get a little personal when those around me are eaten by a sicko.”

I put my head back as Hugh kept at it; Yorley spoke after a few minutes. Why? I don’t know, it’s just something chicks feel the need to do…you know, talk incessantly. Maybe they think words will keep them sane while they drive the rest of us fucking nuts. Makes perfect sense to me.

“My father was a rebel against Castro. He taught our whole village how to shoot.”

“He mustn’t have been too good of a rebel, last I heard Castro was still around. If he had done his job better I would have been able to get a decent cigar.”

More silence.

“Ooh, sore spot?” I asked. “Whole village wiped out maybe? Were you interred? Maybe raped a few dozen times? Lord knows you have the ass for it.”

“My father was captured when I was twelve. They lined him up against an apothecary store wall and shot him eight times before he died. My mother and I escaped on a small boat.”

“You’ve got to know I really don’t give a shit, right? We’re not going to bond or anything here. Either I kill and eat you, not necessarily in that order, or you somehow get lucky and kill me. The rest of this shit is just one giant stall until the inevitable happens.”

“Once upon a time I considered myself the luckiest person in the world when the US Coast Guard had finally picked us up. Now I wish they had sent us back to accept our punishment.”

“Funny how that happens, because right now I couldn’t imagine anyplace I’d rather be.” My arm was starting to feel better, the little Hugh-ites were migrating to wherever Hugh-ites vacation. My arm was down to a dull roar and the red ‘stop’ that Hugh had previously flashing in my head was now off. “We good?” I asked him softly.

He didn’t reply. We were coming to a head, me and him. I could only hope it didn’t come at an inopportune time. I reached behind me with my right arm not yet ready to test Hugh’s repairs. Aptly enough I grabbed a pumpkin spice smelling candle that must have been a hold-over from last Halloween. Had to weigh a good pound and a half including the jar.

“Well, at least it will smell nice up there as they roast to death.” I said looking down at it.

I tore the back of the teddy bear open and shoved the candle in, then I did my own surgery, closing the wound with copious amounts of duct tape.

The next problem presented to me had me break out in a fit of laughter.

“You can’t really be going any more insane can you?” Yorley asked. “Maybe if you come full circle you’ll realize just how big an asshole you are and take yourself out.”

“Not likely. I’ve always been strangely comfortable in my skin. Well…I guess in anybody’s skin now that I think about it.”

“You really think you’re not Clarence. Listen I don’t know what happened out there, but Tyler and Anne should have never left you behind. I think you’ve more than made up for it though. What would possess you to do that to your face? And more importantly hurt those that have been helping you.”

“You just don’t want to get it I guess. You really think that shy little blubbering ball of shit that was Clarence could do any of this? I bet you dismissed him as any sort of threat in the first ten minutes you met him. He was such a fucking pansy he couldn’t even figure out how to get his dick wet. He died a virgin. Think, Yorley, what could have possibly happened to Clarence that would have turned him from what he was to what I am? Certainly not any sort of vengeful quest. He’d been taking Tyler’s shit for a week and probably a dozen other bullies his entire life, and he never once fought back. Do you think this is his big coming out party? He wanted nothing more than to be with Anne and I ate her. You let me know when the rationalizing part of your mind lets you accept what’s going on here.”

“I know you’re not a zombie. That doesn’t change the fact that I need to kill you and really doesn’t bother me either way. Zombie or man, I’ve had to kill plenty of both, the only difference is the location of the shot.”

“There’s the Yorley I know and love. Now, perchance do you have a light?” I asked and started laughing again.

The lighters were next to the bags of charcoal, not the little disposable ones, but rather the long-nozzled grill lighters. Had to have been about twenty of them there across the abyss. Why I felt the need to warn Yorley about what I needed I don’t know. Maybe I did have a death wish.

I shuddered at my brush with morality
(mortality?). “Better now.” I looked up and down my side of the aisle; I found something that might help me on my quest. The wooden flagpole was about five feet long and should just reach without exposing too much of me. I scooted back to my original spot. The bullet was out of her gun almost before I moved. It smashed into the base of the display case sending old marshmallow candies spraying. I swung the pole hitting the hanging lighters, at least three of them clattered to the floor, I had little time to celebrate as the end of the flagpole shattered, blown apart by her next shot.

“Damn, you’re good,” I told her as I pulled my arm a little tighter to my side.

I was getting sick of taking damage and so apparently was Hugh. I still had somewhere in the neighborhood of four feet of pole, and if I got down on my stomach and stretched, I was confident it would be plenty to reach out and drag the lighter my way. It was from that position I heard something not quite right. Someone was coming. I pulled the lighter in quickly and put it on the shelf behind me with my soon to be flaming teddy.

I was not in a good position, pinned down from the top and at least one person closing in. Calum the store manager must have finally discovered which pocket he kept his nuts in, or Yorley had kicked him out. I had to pretend that their surprise was still just that. I got quiet trying to track him down, he was not very stealthy; shit, he was about as loud as a person with OCD and a case full of bubble wrap. Apparently Yorley realized the same thing, because she began to talk loudly and endlessly.

Hugh’s new and improved stereophonic hearing luckily let me isolate her voice out of the equation, what was left was the drunken shuffling of a Russian sailor on shore leave. I got back down on my stomach and slithered to the end cap, just sticking my head out far enough so that I could take a gander.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered quietly.

Calum had indeed NOT found where he had deposited his nuts; it was the girl whose head I had attempted to cave in on it self. She had a mean looking weapon in her hands and she was trying, God bless her she was trying, but I had to imagine she had a serious concussion. Most likely her vision was blurred and her equilibrium was for shit, but there was my little mercenary headed my way.

Yorley was beginning to panic. I could hear it in her tone and her words. “Talk to me, Tim-Tim, this silent routine gets me thinking that maybe we’re at a crossroads in our relationship.” She meant it as a barb and a prodding, but she was concerned for the woman headed my way…and with good reason. She had just stumbled into a display case nearly knocking over an end cap full of cheap bourbon. I hoped for my sake that none of them hit the ground. She’d be forced to abort at that point. As the top box teetered momentarily, she reached out, her first swipe missing miserably. Then she lucked upon it and settled the bottle down. She took a deep breath and continued.

“That’s right, sweetheart, keep coming,” I said softly.

Yorley began to ramble louder, her words running into themselves she was talking so fast. At one point, I think she started to recite recipes for candied bacon, sounded delicious a couple of lifetimes ago, but not nearly as good as the woman headed my way. Stumbler was one aisle away and coming more or less in a direct line, she had a rifle planted against her shoulder. Luckily Yorley hadn’t shut up, or Stumbler may have heard me as I pushed back a few inches.

Hugh gave me the impression he was drooling in anticipation. I had actually made a small puddle of the thick fluid as I waited. The floor vibrated ever so slightly as she took another step. My heart was hammering; if she ever got her faculties together. I was screwed. There I was in the prone position, ripe for the taking, it made this hunt that much more special knowing we were both in mortal danger.  Another slight vibration – more hoped for than felt. I almost sang out in happiness as the toe of a boot became visible. Things had to happen real fast now or I was about to become a bloody footnote in history.

I shot my right hand out, latching behind her ankle roughly by her Achilles tendon. I pulled as hard as I could, twisting her leg towards me. Her rifle fired harmlessly into the ceiling as she plummeted to the floor. The back of her head collided with the hard, tiled floor with enough force to shift her already swimming skull pieces around. She was out cold before her brain had an opportunity to stop jiggling.

It took Yorley a moment to grasp what had just happened. I reeled the woman in like she was a prized catfish.

“Tim, let her go!” Yorley shrieked.

“Not much chance of that,” I responded.

Bullets showered the aisle, all harmlessly bouncing off the floor or into the case opposite me.

“Let her go!” she screamed.

“Yorley, you’ve got to be quiet, little missy here is sleeping. You don’t want to wake her do you?”

“She doesn’t deserve this.”

“There are people deserving of what I’m about to do?” I asked.

Yorley was crying. “Please take me instead. I’ll give myself up willingly if you let her go.”

“Interesting. What’s she to you? Family?”

“No…” Yorley hesitated; she knew giving me information I could use against her was not a wise decision. But her options were limited. “She has kids.”

“Are they here?” I asked a little too eagerly. Licking my teeth, carefully this time.

She didn’t catch my reasoning for the question.

“No, they’re with their father, but they’re safe. She’s just trying to get back to them.”

“She should have tried harder,” I answered in honesty. 

Another pregnant pause – and how prescient was I?

“She’s carrying.”

Honestly, when I heard those words, I thought of a drug mule, like maybe she had a couple of kilos of coke shoved up her ass. That sounded intriguing. I could be high as a kite as I ripped through her bowels.

“Wait,” I said as I sat up. “Like with a baby?”

A sob escaped Yorley.

“Man, this’ll be like having veal,” I told her.

“I’ll fucking kill you if you harm her.”

“Well I’m still alive, and from the looks of your buddy here, she’s already in rough shape. Empty threats are really not the right way to approach this problem.”

“Fuck this,” I heard Yorley say. She was moving away from the window.

I cocked the hammer to my pistol. “You come down here before I tell you to come down and the first shot goes in her belly, maybe an inch or two above her belly button.”

“You’re a fucking bastard!”

“Stop it. Now you’re just reminding me of my dear old mom,” I laughed.

Hugh was screaming at me to start mowing through our new dinner guest. I was resisting him with every fiber of my being; if we succumbed to the hunger, Yorley would put a bullet in me before I could chew through this woman’s face.

No, I had to take care of Yorley first. I scooted back to my original place, dragging my entree by her back pocket, which conveniently tore free when I got to my destination, neatly depositing her pretty much where I wanted her to be. A key card clattered to the floor, I picked it up. It was a magnetic security card most corporations these days used. Not sure why she still carried it, unless of course this was where her husband and children were waiting out the apocalypse. I read the name before I stuck the card in my pocket. I considered it a food cache, in case of emergency.

“Scarlett Speight. You look like a Scarlett,” I said looking down at her red tresses, now accentuated by a spreading blood red halo.

“What are you doing, Tim? I don’t like when you’re quiet.”

“Relax, Yorley, I’m not eating her yet. She’s my insurance policy.”

I grabbed the biggest most obnoxious stuffed animal available. It was an octopus; nothing says romance like a multiple armed, ugly ass animal. I wondered if they were shooting for the pun of the man groping wildly, that I got. I doused the pink thing in almost an entire bottle of lighter fluid.

“You ready for this?” I asked Yorley.

“Don’t you do anything to her.”

I knew I had her attention, she would be watching this aisle like a hawk. That was to my advantage as I lit the octopus on fire. I tossed it up in the air.

I heard her cry of anguish as the flare up from the fire had temporarily destroyed any vision she had for the next few minutes. I stood up secure in the fact that she couldn’t see me to shoot me. I lit my altered teddy bear, waited for it to catch nicely, and then heaved it. I was rewarded with the sound of crashing glass and cries of alarm as the bear burned. I reached over and started screwing off the tops to other lighter fluid containers. Heaving them up and into the office before Calum had the foresight to just pick the bear up and toss it back out.

“I’m on fire!” I heard.

I would have sworn it was a woman until I heard Yorley tell him to drop to the floor.

“The rug is on fire!” came the panicked reply.

There was a nice golden glow coming from the office like a log cabin in the woods during the winter. I almost felt like I could curl up on a couch and read a good book; maybe have a snack or two.

It was only a matter of time before they were forced out of the office. I had to get to the bottom of the steps before they did or my tactical advantage was lost. I loped over as quickly as I could. It wasn’t long before the store manager Calum came running down the stairs.

“Sweet flaming brûlée!” I said happily as he lit up the narrow staircase, his head blazing a wonderful shade of blue-green.

Skin flaps that now resembled sideburns hung down from his scalp as he melted like a wax figure. He was shrieking as his shirt supplied the flames with all the fuel they needed to keep devouring him. His chest had just started to bake as he attempted to run
away. He looked too good to just let go by. I grabbed his left arm, which he was beating against his head in an attempt to douse the flames. I latched onto the meaty part of his bicep and tore it free from his arm. His earlier cries, which would have rivaled music at a rock concert, would now drown out a jet. To say I was impressed would have been an understatement.

“Must not be a smoker.” I said aloud as I picked off his now exposed triceps.

I dropped him to the ground and kick-rolled him a few times until the flames went out. A healthy amount of smoke was issuing from him, but I’ve always loved what that adds for taste. He had died or passed out just as I picked him up. I was beginning to feel heat emanate from the office, and still Yorley had not made her debut down the blood red carpet (dramatic effect – it was actually brown). I was thinking she might be a no show. I had to strip more meat off of Calum before too much time lapsed, but I’d never be able to enjoy him if I thought someone was looking over my shoulder.

“Where are you my sweets?” I asked tenderly, shaking Calum around like a rattle. She was beginning to grate on my nerves.

“EAT IT!” Hugh bellowed. I noticed that my mouth would invariably open and close at a constant pace whenever Calum came closer during my pushes and pulls. I knew for fact it wasn’t me. Hugh was vying for control.

“Fine, eat, you fat bastard, but if we catch one in the head…it’s all on you,” I told him as I pulled Calum in close. Hugh started to rip the flesh off his face as I kept a lookout for the ever-dangerous Yorley. Calum’s head flopped to the side as Hugh chewed his neck, severing all the connective tissue. It was then that I finally heard movement. Not on the stairs, but by the windows. I had to rip Hugh from what he was doing. I watched as Yorley dropped herself down from the shattered pane, she did a quick tuck and roll and was up on her feet in a second, her rifle at the ready. If she had thought to spin and look for me, she could have drilled me twice while I stared agape at her. We were in trouble.

I thought about running upstairs, but fuck the poetic justice of that maneuver. I dragged Calum with us as I moved quickly away. I wouldn’t have bothered with the dead weight, but Hugh wouldn’t release our grip on him.

“You’re a fuck wad,” I told him. He didn’t seem to care.

I ran and hid behind the customer service counter. Yorley was making a direct line for Scarlett.

“Son of a bitch, gonna lose two meals. Three if you count the baby,” I said as I peered over the counter top.

Hugh was busy munching through the guy’s ass. I’ve got to admit it’s a filling part of the human anatomy, but it’s best not to dwell on its location. From my vantage point I could just barely make out Yorley’s approach to my aisle-away-from-home. It was slow and steady and ever alert as she did so. She immediately did a 360 when she realized I was not there. She placed the rifle over her shoulder. I would imagine so that she would have two hands to help my Scarlett up.

The fire was crackling loudly to my left; it was only a matter of time before the rest of the store started to catch. Smoke was already settling everywhere like a low-lying coastal fog. Yorley had Scarlett propped up with her right arm, her rifle now in her left as she kept scanning the room looking for hidden dangers. Scarlett was semi-coherent; I could hear her mumbling something, probably irked that Yorley had screwed up her dinner plans, or maybe it was a thank you, I’m not a lip reader. I would have confronted her then
if not for Hugh. The gluttonous fuck wouldn’t release his death grip on Calum and kept pulling him close to my face so he could chew through pieces of him. Hugh wasn’t seeing the bigger picture here.