Life Among The Dead (Book 2): A Castle Made of Sand by Daniel Cotton Page B

shows up on her
property, hoping to get close to her. She’s never been this close
to one.
    The man known to her only as Griffin had
simply told her not to worry about all the fan paraphernalia on the
backseat. He kept driving, periodically glancing at a crumpled,
bloodstained sheet of paper in his hand as he guided them around
the walking dead and stalled traffic.
    Kelly was uncertain what would be the worst
case scenario: being devoured by the dead, or being forced to
endure whatever fantasy may be brewing behind that hockey mask. She
is determined to make a break from this man the first chance she
gets, if she gets one.
    “Damn it!” the man growls, pounding a closed
fist upon the wheel. He becomes more irritable the longer they are
on the road; every turn they take brings more outbursts.
    He folds his crusted slip of paper and
pinches it tightly between the thumb and forefinger of his left
hand.
    Kelly wonders if appealing to his humanity
will make a difference. “Griffin, what is that?”
    “A list,” his rough voice sounds distraught.
“The radio told of some safe places for people to go. They’re all
lost. It’s imperative that I get you to safety.”
    He had said such things at her home. He never
intended to include Randy in his plan, and didn’t make a fuss when
her husband decided to go it alone. “Why me?”
    “For my daughter.” Sorrow softens his raspy
voice. “She was your biggest fan.”
    “All this stuff…”
    “Was hers.” He is a man who has lost
everything he has ever cared about. The collection in his backseat
brings a weak chuckle to his throat. His tear glazed eyes have
trouble staying in focus. “She knew all of your dance moves. She
used to make me dance to your rooster song. Not exactly age
appropriate, but it was damned cute to watch her… It’s my fault
she’s gone.”
    “Why do you where the mask?”
    “Burns,” he says simply. After a long pause,
he explains further. “Because of an inconsiderate drunk driver, I
lost my baby. The car was on fire after the crash. I was thrown
from it, but I ran back to save her. I just couldn’t get her belt
off. We were both burning, she was screaming for me to help, but a
truck full of frat boys pulled me out before I could get her. They
meant well.”
    The man has stopped their ride in the street.
The dead in the city are hobbling closer by the second. He can’t go
on like this. His armor covered face rests on the steering wheel so
he can weep for his lost child.
    “If there was a drunk driver involved, you
can’t…”
    “I was the one driving drunk,” he admits. “It
was a family reunion. I thought I could handle it.”
    “What was her name?” Kelly collects as many
of the relics belonging to her number one fan as she can grab, and
a marker from the floor, intending to sign every last object.
    He turns to her, and the human eyes behind
the mask bleed tears of sorrow while saying ‘thank you’ at the same
time. “Shelly… My Shelly.”

 
12
     
    “Not cool, man!” Gar scolds his partner on
the roof of a building. They had been lucky to find a fire escape
they could reach from the top of a dumpster, but the homeless guy
that had popped out at the worst possible time wasn’t so fortunate.
“That kid just wanted a safe place to hide.”
    “It was him or us,” Randy counters. Neither
man can look down to where the street person is now being mauled,
finding it bad enough to listen to the sounds of the feast.
    The stoner heads for the opposite side of the
roof. Smoke is rising from the direction they had intended to
travel, and he witnesses the aftermath of the gigantic explosion
that had sent them for cover in the alley. The path to the hospital
is blocked by burning wreckage.
    “Oops.”
    “What do you mean, ‘oops?’”
    “I was supposed to take you south to
Memorial, but we’ve been going north. Olive Grove is down there,
and I don’t think we can get to it now.”
    “It doesn’t matter.” The man known for