Dying Days: Origins Page 4
"Slow," Bald Guy said. He was standing just outside his doorway with a shotgun pointed at Tosha. Her baseball bat was next to his feet.
Tosha didn't think this was going to end well. "Did you fucking shoot me?"
"I shot your boyfriend. You took some of it in the arm. You'll live." He licked his lips. "For now, at least."
Tosha went into survival mode the best way she knew how: by exploiting her strengths. She took her sweet time getting up, getting up on all fours and making sure he had a great view of her ass in her tight jeans. She wiggled her butt. As she lifted her torso up, she casually unbuttoned her jeans, making sure he didn't notice the move.
Her back was to him now and as she stood her jeans slipped down, revealing a hint of her thong. Men are so easy, she thought. "I don't want to die," she said in as small a voice as she could muster before turning to face him.
His eyes went right to her unbuttoned pants and she tried not to smile. Tosha put her hands on her hips and casually slid her jeans down another inch, showing her thong and the hint of her pubic mound.
He couldn't keep his eyes from her. "No sudden moves."
"Are you sure?" Tosha slowly rolled her hips as she stepped forward. "I have a few moves you might be interested in."
Bald Guy pointed the shotgun at the prone body. "Your boyfriend might not like that."
Tosha scoffed. "He's not my boyfriend. I told him to get lost. I was knocking on your door and he followed me. I'm only hanging with that loser because he had good pot."
Now it was Bald Guy's turn to scoff. "His shit wasn't anything to brag about. I grow some major weed."
"Do you?" Tosha smiled and took another step. "I thought you got busted?"
Bald Guy nodded but never let his gaze wander from her crotch. "They cleaned me out. But I figure I can easily start growing again, especially with all the chaos. Once this mess gets cleaned up, I'll be the only one with great bud. I can charge whatever I want."
"Wow, you have it all figured out." And you sound like an idiot. The world is ending, you moron. "Do you need any help?"
Bald Guy looked confused. "You were going to rob me."
Tosha acted hurt, shaking her head and pouting. "No way. I knocked on your door. I didn't shoot or kick it in, did I? I seriously want to join forces with you."
"What do you have to offer me?" he asked, licking his lips again.
"Whatever you want. I have much to offer in trade," Tosha said and let her jeans drop to the floor.
Bald Guy aimed the shotgun at her face. "You're trying to trick me. I'm not stupid."
"I didn't think you were stupid. You have the shotgun, right? I am at your mercy. I can be your prisoner, if that turns you on. I can be whatever you want me to be." Tosha wanted to laugh at how utterly stupid and cliché she was sounding, but he was definitely eating it up.
He was staring at her now but still holding the gun as she took another tentative step, trying hard to smile and not startle him. One false move and he would spook and pull the trigger. She didn't want to end up like Rasta Dude. Tosha wanted to look at her new friend (now dead) but to dwell on all this senseless mess wasn't in the cards right now.
Right now, she needed to kill or be killed. "Should I put my jeans back on?" she asked, but casually lifted a foot and stepped on one leg of her pants, slipping them off her shoe and releasing her legs in the event she needed to move quickly. It would really suck trying to get away and tripping over her own jeans before she died.
"No, no, keep them off." Bald Guy's hand dropped a few inches, the shotgun aiming at her legs now. "Turn around slowly."
Tosha did as she was told, making sure to push her ass out slightly as she did and giving him a great show. She hoped it would be the last thing he got to see before she took him out. "Mind if I slide these down?" She didn't wait for a response, turning her hips slightly for a better look at him behind her. He was drooling.
She put a thumb on each side of her thong and took her sweet time sliding her panties down her thighs, making sure she bent and arched her back as she did.
"Holy shit," he murmured.
Tosha got the thong down to the bottom of her thighs before stopping, shaking her ass slightly. "It's cold out here. Don't you have something to keep me warm?"
"Huh?" he asked stupidly. The shotgun was almost forgotten, dangling in his hand as he stroked himself through his pants.
Tosha spread her legs and set her feet. "I want you inside me. Right here. Right now."
Bald Guy fumbled with his belt and dropped his pants down, sliding his feet as he couldn't get to her sweet ass fast enough. "I've been watching you and your sister for months. I used to imagine the two of you making out before I fucked you both."
"Cool." Sick fuck. "Give it to me hard."
Just as he got in position, Tosha kicked up with her shoe, catching him perfectly between the legs. Before he could react, she'd already swung around and punched him in the face. The shotgun fell to the ground and she kicked him in the nuts again for good measure.
Tosha retrieved the shotgun just as Bald Guy, face purple and moans escaping from between his lips, rushed her. She lifted the shotgun and he stopped, which was a bad move. It gave Tosha room to maneuver and distance to kill him.
She did, pulling the trigger and watching his torso rip apart.
Tosha began crying as Bald Guy joined Rasta Dude in a sea of blood in the cold, lonely hallway.
She put on her thong and jeans, careful where she was stepping. Her arm was badly damaged and she felt nauseous. And now she had two more bodies to deal with.
Chapter Ten: Waiting In the Wings
Tosha knocked on Devil Beard's door and stepped back. "Hello? Anybody in there?" She counted to ten before knocking again. She didn't want to get shot at again, and held the loaded shotgun in her hand but ready to go if she needed it. She didn't want to use it. She was tired of the killing and the bloodshed.
Right now, she needed help. She was panicking, because she was suddenly alone and cold and hungry and… she banged on the door again. "Dude, are you home? If you want me to fuck off, just say it, but don't pull this silent bullshit."
The bodies were still in the hallway upstairs. Tosha supposed she came downstairs to escape from the sight and the smell of death, even though her every waking moment was filled with it right now. She danced back and forth, trying to stay warm.
She put her face near the door. "I'm serious like a heart attack. I will kick this door in on the count of three. Open up."
When there was no answer, Tosha started counting. "One… two… I'm going to bust the door in on… three…" She kicked the door right under the doorknob and was amazed it flew open. She was impressed with herself.
The apartment was dark with the shades drawn. She let the shotgun lead her inside. "I'm guessing you aren't home, Devil Beard."
Tosha hesitated at the threshold, afraid to get shot. Her hands were shaking. She couldn't seem to move her foot and take the first step.
"Hello?" she whispered, her mouth dry and her hands cold. "I'm coming in. Don't shoot. I only want to talk with you."
She took a step inside and it was silent. Focus on the task ahead, she chided herself. She took four huge strides to the living room windows and pulled a shade, casting scant light into the apartment but managing to chase a few shadows away.
The snow was coming down hard outside again, a heavy wind blasting it against the window and swirling outside. Tosha didn't want to go back out there. Not unless she had to, and she knew she'd eventually have to get the bodies upstairs into the alley.
Maybe I can open a window and toss them out, she thought. She didn't care anymore. She was miserable. She slowly turned, expecting Devil Beard to be creeping up on her or pointing a bazooka in her direction. Instead, she saw an empty apartment. The furniture was still intact but it was obvious he'd vacated the premises. The kitchen cabinets were open and empty, and if there were pictures or personal items on the coffee table or walls, they
were all now barren.
She went into the bedrooms and wasn't surprised to see them empty as well, and the bathroom was also cleaned out. The only thing she found in the apartment was a small scale behind the couch and some flakes of marijuana in a bedroom.
"Shit, was everyone in this building growing pot?"
It was starting to feel like it. Tosha wondered where the guy had gone, and when he'd had time to pack up his shit and split. She remembered he drove some kind of pickup truck, but she didn't feel like going outside in the snow and seeing if it was still there. If it was there or not, it didn't matter. She didn't have the keys.
"Well, this was a fucking waste," Tosha said too loudly, her words echoing in the near-empty apartment. She dropped down on the couch and admired it; it was comfy and better than the threadbare one she had in her place.
She knew it made absolutely no sense, but she wanted to drag the couch up the stairs and put it in her living room, slump down on it and open all the blinds and watch the snow as it buried Harrisburg and slowly killed the city.
The only thing she wished she had was a big unopened bottle of Jack Daniels and a hot pizza. She could blast Lizzy Borden on her stereo and dance around the living room, getting drunk and full before passing out. If it weren't for the death and the zombies, this would be a good time.
Tosha stood and began dragging the couch to the door. It didn't matter how long it took, she was going to get this couch up the stairs and into her living room. It could fight her all it wanted, but in the end she was going to win.
The steps were wider than the couch, which (in theory) would make it easy for her to move it step by step. But it was heavy as hell, and she was by herself. Alone now.
She flipped it end over end and it banged three steps up, but she had no idea how to get it up to the first landing. She put her back against it, gripped underneath, and slid it up the steps. It rammed into the wall at the first landing. She smiled. She now had to figure out how to turn it and get it up the next set of stairs.
Tosha didn't know what she was going to do once she got onto her floor, since it was covered in drying blood. She decided not to worry about it right now, and just get the couch one step at a time. She was sure there was a lesson here, some simple metaphor or hidden message, but she was too tired to figure it out right now.
She attempted to slide the couch up and around to the next set of stairs, thinking about stretching out and relaxing.
Chapter Eleven: Visual Lies
Tosha knew someone was across the street, on the second floor, and rummaging through the apartments. She was pissed because she'd spent the last two days in a daze, burning anything she could to keep warm in the two trash cans sitting in her living room, and not being more productive. Every time she'd looked out the window at the many buildings on her block and thought of the supplies and food she could go and recon, she decided to sit back on the couch and take yet another nap.
She was in a funk, and now she'd lost out on the closest and easiest building to loot. It was too cold today; she was hungry… she had no energy to do anything but wrap herself in five blankets and hibernate.
It was a lone woman across the way, packing a box with items from a kitchen cabinet. Damn! There was enough food there to last weeks. Tosha saw the woman smiling as she stuffed at least a dozen cans of soup into the box.
"I don't think so," Tosha said aloud. Even though she knew it made no sense, she considered this her block and those soup cans her property now. She was going to reclaim them.
She grabbed her baseball bat, pulled her coat tighter, and stepped into the hallway for the first time in too long. The bodies were still there, blood now brown and cold on the floor. At some point they would need to be tossed into the alley. But, right now, she needed to get safely across the street.
She opened the front door a crack and poked her head out, but the only zombies she saw were trudging through the snow down the block. She hesitated before stepping out. The wind was stirring up snowflakes, and it was too damn cold. Tosha wanted to close the door, trudge back upstairs and crash back onto her comfy new couch. But she was getting hungry. And someone was finding her food. By the time Tosha got her shit together, it would be too late.
The walk across the street, through piles of untouched snow, was slow-going, and each crunch of her shoes sounded like a gunshot in the silence. If the chick was even remotely listening, she'd hear Tosha coming from a mile away. Tosha didn’t care right now because she was freezing and wanted to use the baseball bat on something that would make a fucking noise. Hitting zombies in the head was so anti-climactic. They didn't try to evade the blow, they didn't cry out, and there was no begging for forgiveness or pleading for their lives. Especially since they had no life.
There was a shattered wooden door into the building, with a simple pile of broken furniture inside. Tosha stepped through the clutter, trying not to make any noise or move too many pieces, if she could help it. She got inside and made sure nothing was sneaking up behind her and there was nothing in the foyer to the building.
Something thumped upstairs.
Tosha took the steps two at a time, leading with her baseball bat. Moving got her blood pumping and she wasn't nearly as frozen as she'd been. It actually felt good to be up and about. She decided after she bashed the bitches face in for stealing from her, she'd do some exercises or take walks or something each day.
Tosha got up to the next landing and saw a stack of cans in the center of the hallway, with a door open. It was definitely the apartment the chick was rummaging in.
Tosha stopped and listened. She didn't hear anything, and hesitated to step inside the apartment in case of an ambush. Had the woman heard her outside, or once she entered the building? Tosha needed to do something, because it was cold.
The door across the hall was closed, along with the other apartments. Tosha noticed this apartment building was nicer than hers. A lot nicer. She wondered how much the rent was and then smiled at the absurdity. If she wanted to move here, she guessed she could. Who could stop her now? Certainly, the landlord was a zombie by now.
There was more than enough natural light since the blinds were all damaged or missing, and Tosha took a tentative step into the living room. She could see the kitchen area where the woman had been spotted. She wasn't around but there were boxes and bags of food stacked on the floor and counter.
Snow was falling outside and Tosha was getting sick of the constant blinding white. She made a mental note to find sunglasses for the daylight hours.
The living room and kitchen weren't totaled. She guessed the woman either lived here or got lucky and found a space which hadn't been trashed. Too often, Tosha found entire buildings ransacked, every last crumb taken. She had no idea where all the stuff had gone since she didn't see many people still alive. There were also too many abandoned cars. Maybe only a handful of people had taken everything of value. Like she was about to. Had the woman taken a load of food, and slipped out another door? Was she simply in one of the bedrooms or in another apartment going through the kitchen?
Or was the bitch sneaking up behind Tosha with a heavy blunt object? Tosha turned and saw short blonde hair before something slammed her in the side of the head, and she faded to black.
Chapter Twelve: Godiva
"You do know, once I get out of this chair, I'm going to fuck you up," Tosha said, her speech slurred. Her hands and feet were bound to a wooden kitchen chair. She couldn't see the woman. "Come out and face me, you ugly bitch."
"I'm not ugly," she heard a voice quietly behind you. "When you talk like that, you're the ugly one."
Tosha decided to change tactics. She needed to see her foe and gauge who this was and if there were more of them before she made her move. "Fine, I'm sorry. To be fair, before you clubbed me like a fucking seal, I never got a good look at you. Who knows? Maybe you're really pretty."
"I am."
"I guess I'll take your word for it, since you refuse to come out her
e and face me. I'm tied up. You obviously have my baseball bat, and the two-by-four you hit me with."
"I hit you with a guitar."
"You have quite a swing. Do you play?"
"Play what?"
Tosha refrained from being sarcastic. She needed to figure things out quickly, especially if this chick was nuts. "The guitar. Do you know how to play it?"
"No. It was just in the apartment and, when I heard you outside, I hid across the hall. I saw you watching me from the other building."
"I live there. I just wanted to know what you were up to. I'm not the enemy. I'm still breathing." Tosha tried to turn her head and look back. "We could work together, you know."
"I work better alone."
Tosha closed her eyes. "This is stupid. My head hurts. Come out from your hiding place and talk to me. I'm fucking tied up. What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything."
Tosha kept her eyes closed as she heard the woman take the long way around the room, keeping Tosha well clear.
"I'm going to open my eyes," Tosha said and smiled. "Don't run and hide again."
"I wasn't hiding," the woman said, a hitch in her voice. "I just don't trust you."
"Why not? What did I ever do to you? I don't even know you."
"You can't trust anyone these days. At least you aren't a guy. Open your eyes."
Tosha opened them and was genuinely impressed with the woman. She was a few years older but in great shape, with short blonde hair, almond eyes and full lips. She had a nice body, too. Tosha didn't discriminate when it came to sexual partners. If they were hot, she wanted them. "Hey, I apologize for real. You are pretty damn hot. I'm Tosha."
The woman looked away, her face red. "Thanks. I'm Lyssa. Don't try anything stupid."
"Glad you said something. I was going to fly away any second." Tosha made a show of moving around, the rope inhibiting her movement. "You have me tied up pretty good here. I'm still not sure why."