his head up and his eyes focused on the door behind me. I was pretty certain he was making a conscious effort to ensure our arms didn’t come in contact this time around. That was more upsetting than I cared to admit.
I still hadn’t moved by the time he opened the door and took a step into the hall without even glancing back. Now that I think about it, I realize he was just as disturbed by our conversation as I was or he would have paid closer attention, listening for signs of anyone who might be on the other side. Because he was deep in thought about me, about us, he ended up not realizing that someone actually was there.
The woman’s movement was quick; making me think she had been waiting for us while listening through the door. When it opened, she didn’t vacillate, lunging at Harrison full force. Harrison is big, stocky, but he’d met his match. When the 300-pound woman barreled into him, he was forced backwards, back inside of his aunt’s apartment, knocking him into the door. With one arm weighed down by the duffel bag, he swung his free arm up and pinned her to the wall, letting out a loud grunt. His arm landed perfectly, firmly pressed across her immense chest. The only parts of her capable of reaching him now were her bloody, glistening hair and the spittle of red drops that flew from her nose as she snorted in frustration. Harrison had her. She wasn’t going anywhere. There was no possible way she could move. His strength had once again saved him.
I swung the gun up, steadied my alignment, settled her into my sight picture, and pressed the trigger with a controlled squeeze. It was a perfect shot, landing right where I intended. And if her head had still been there, it would have stopped her. But she had moved just in time, thrusting her head forward with her teeth extended, embedding them perfectly in Harrison’s forearm.
~ 3 ~
H ARRISON RELEASED A GROWL AND SLAMMED her back against the wall as she gnawed her way through his muscles.
“Back up!” I shouted.
“No!”
“BACK UP!”
“No!” he shouted, gritting his teeth and straining as he tried to pry her head back, the duffel bag slapping into them both in his attempt. “She’ll release me and go after you.”
“Damn it, Harrison! Back the f-”
He suddenly leaned backward keeping his arm in place, so that she’d be immobilized. “Do it,” he commanded, turning his head toward me, not away as most would. He was serious, gravely serious.
So I realigned my shot and pulled the trigger. The blast vibrated the hallway as the bullet sent the back part of her head splattering along the wall in a trail toward the door. Her knees caved in and she went down, dragging Harrison with her, because her teeth were still lodged in his flesh. Using his other hand, he pried himself loose with a push to her forehead. I was already at his side by the time he was standing upright again. Blood was seeping from the large gash the woman had left.
“We need to wrap that,” I said, thinking he’d agree since he had some first aid background.
“We need to get out of here,” he replied, ignoring the searing pain that must have been running the length of his forearm. I remember believing at the time that it was adrenaline keeping him going. “They’ll have heard that.”
“Who?” I blurted, even though I already knew the answer.
One of them showed up in the doorway, a man hunched, arms spread, fingers bent into claws, snarling like a rabid dog. He looked to be eighty, still dressed in his nightgown and slippers. He was missing an ear, but the blood had hardened against his neck. His face was clean, which surprised me.
He hasn’t bitten anyone yet, I thought, but he looks damn ready for it.
As he took a lunging step at Harrison, I drew the gun up and pulled the trigger. The man fell back into the hallway outside the apartment door and slumped to the ground.
The only thing to break the silence that followed was my distressed heavy breathing.
I still hadn’t moved by the time he opened the door and took a step into the hall without even glancing back. Now that I think about it, I realize he was just as disturbed by our conversation as I was or he would have paid closer attention, listening for signs of anyone who might be on the other side. Because he was deep in thought about me, about us, he ended up not realizing that someone actually was there.
The woman’s movement was quick; making me think she had been waiting for us while listening through the door. When it opened, she didn’t vacillate, lunging at Harrison full force. Harrison is big, stocky, but he’d met his match. When the 300-pound woman barreled into him, he was forced backwards, back inside of his aunt’s apartment, knocking him into the door. With one arm weighed down by the duffel bag, he swung his free arm up and pinned her to the wall, letting out a loud grunt. His arm landed perfectly, firmly pressed across her immense chest. The only parts of her capable of reaching him now were her bloody, glistening hair and the spittle of red drops that flew from her nose as she snorted in frustration. Harrison had her. She wasn’t going anywhere. There was no possible way she could move. His strength had once again saved him.
I swung the gun up, steadied my alignment, settled her into my sight picture, and pressed the trigger with a controlled squeeze. It was a perfect shot, landing right where I intended. And if her head had still been there, it would have stopped her. But she had moved just in time, thrusting her head forward with her teeth extended, embedding them perfectly in Harrison’s forearm.
~ 3 ~
H ARRISON RELEASED A GROWL AND SLAMMED her back against the wall as she gnawed her way through his muscles.
“Back up!” I shouted.
“No!”
“BACK UP!”
“No!” he shouted, gritting his teeth and straining as he tried to pry her head back, the duffel bag slapping into them both in his attempt. “She’ll release me and go after you.”
“Damn it, Harrison! Back the f-”
He suddenly leaned backward keeping his arm in place, so that she’d be immobilized. “Do it,” he commanded, turning his head toward me, not away as most would. He was serious, gravely serious.
So I realigned my shot and pulled the trigger. The blast vibrated the hallway as the bullet sent the back part of her head splattering along the wall in a trail toward the door. Her knees caved in and she went down, dragging Harrison with her, because her teeth were still lodged in his flesh. Using his other hand, he pried himself loose with a push to her forehead. I was already at his side by the time he was standing upright again. Blood was seeping from the large gash the woman had left.
“We need to wrap that,” I said, thinking he’d agree since he had some first aid background.
“We need to get out of here,” he replied, ignoring the searing pain that must have been running the length of his forearm. I remember believing at the time that it was adrenaline keeping him going. “They’ll have heard that.”
“Who?” I blurted, even though I already knew the answer.
One of them showed up in the doorway, a man hunched, arms spread, fingers bent into claws, snarling like a rabid dog. He looked to be eighty, still dressed in his nightgown and slippers. He was missing an ear, but the blood had hardened against his neck. His face was clean, which surprised me.
He hasn’t bitten anyone yet, I thought, but he looks damn ready for it.
As he took a lunging step at Harrison, I drew the gun up and pulled the trigger. The man fell back into the hallway outside the apartment door and slumped to the ground.
The only thing to break the silence that followed was my distressed heavy breathing.
Similar Books
