Dead Days

Chapter 30

I woke up to screaming. I didn't know where I was for the second time today. My head hurt like a son of a bitch and in this moment I needed a coffee.

"Ah. The thorn in my ass has finally awoken."

That accent and voice is what snapped me out of my stupor. The Russian, who's name I now know. Vladim.

My vision starts to clear. He's walking over to me.

"Hey, Jack." He says and flickers my lights with a rocketing right hook. My jaw pops but it doesn't pop loose.

I show no registration of pain on my face, even though that multiplied my head ache tenfold.

I smiled at him. "Hi, my dear old friend." I spit blood in his face. "If I'm correct, that's the second time I've spit in you're stupid ass face. Vladim." I drew out his name.

He looked at me in disgust.

"What a bitch ass name." I said, laughing right in his face. I could see the anger roaring in his eyes. His jaw clenched and his fists tightened so much his knuckles turned white.

"What are you gonna do asshole, hit me again?" I asked eyeing him. "Do. It." I said, pausing between the two words. I smiled as big as I could.

He stood up straight, and repressed all his anger. "Might I show you something, Mr. Stanley?"

"Sure, fuck face, just remove these binds." I said, looking down to my wrists which were tied down to a metal chair.

"No need for you to move," He said smiling. He spun out of my line of sight and there were Cassie's parents. Both mutilated. They were so bloody it took me a second to recognize them.

All ten of both of their fingers had been cut off. Cassie's father was missing his left ear and her mother's tongue laid in her lap. Each of them dawned a countless amount of cuts.

The Russian spun back into my view wielding a knife bloody all the way down to the hilt. My knife.

"How does it feel, Mr. Stanley, to know that your blade killed her parents?" He asked, smiling a horrid smile.

Anger wailed inside of me. Every particle of my being begged to rip this piece of shit to literal pieces.

"There it is, that's the look of a killer." He said, turning around. "I'll leave you to your thoughts. Oh, and these two shall be dining in around 15 minutes."

With that, he left the room.

      I sat there, this my head down, staring into my lap for what seemed like hours. I failed her. Tears began to well behind my eyes.

      I'm so sorry, Cassie. I thought, hoping and praying that somehow, in someway, she heard that thought.

      I heard the shuffle of clothing on clothing. I looked up.

     Cassie's father was moving. "Mr. Goodman, can you hear me?" I asked. He didn't answer, he kept moving his arms, as if there was an itch he couldn't scratch.

It was when he lifted his left arm that I knew what was happening, he had a bite mark on the underside of his arm.

From the bite mark stemmed discolored skin and dark veins. He opened his eyes and there was nothing there. Nothing but an insatiable hunger for flesh.

His lips curled back in a feral sneer as he slipped his fingerless hands through his binds and stood.

Stood.

Cassie's father was a paraplegic. Why in the flying fuck was he walking towards me.

His stride was off and he seemed to not know how to use his new found limbs, but he was still making his way to me, slowly.

I struggled against my bindings, but to no avail. I didn't see a way out of this one.

But there was one. One that I'd learned a long time ago when I first joined the marines.

If you were ever to get captured and held for interrogation by isis then this what you were supposed to do. I twisted my right hand so my thumb was in a downwards position against the chair.

I began to pressure down onto my thumb so it was being pushed further and further in the wrong direction.

     It hurt like hell, it seemed like it would never dislocate, but then it finally popped. When I lifted my hand it just dangled there.

I slipped it through the binding. Mr. Goodman was inching closer. Only a few more feet and he'd be right on top of me. I quickly undid the binding on my left hand with only my four fingers.

I loosened it enough to slip my hand through. Just as I stood Cassie's father stumbled into me, knocking me back down into the chair. He fell on top of me, pinning my right shoulder to the chair.

I didn't have time to stop his jaws from chomping just centimeters from my jugular, but his angle was all wrong. He chomped down on the back of the chair.

I pushed with all the strength I had in my left arm. I pushed him off enough to free my right arm and threw him off of me. He stumbled back enough for me to bend over and undo the binding on my right ankle.

He charged me. I used his momentum against him, I twisted my body as much as my left ankle would allow and followed through with his charge. I grabbed him by the back of the neck and his shirt and rammed his head into the back of the chair.

He hit it hard. If he were alive he would be unconscious with one hell of a concussion. But it didn't effect him at all. It only gave me enough time to free my other ankle.

As soon as it was free I popped my thumb back into place. Goodman stood, the top of his head bleeding, a sneer so feral you'd think he had rabies.

He charged and I sidestepped while throwing my left foot out for him to trip over, and that he did. He slid a few feet before getting back to his hands and knees. I walked over and grabbed him by the hair on the top of his head and by his chin.

"I'm sorry, Cassie." I whispered and pushed left with my left hand and pulled right with my right hand. His neck snapped with a wet pop.

     I turned around and Mrs. Goodman was standing right behind me. Staring me in the eyes, hers drifted from me to her husband. It was almost as if she knew what had happened. As if she was conscious, or aware for lack of a better word.

      She dropped to her knees and held her head low. It was then that I realized what she wanted, but I didn't understand how she knew what was going on. Every zombie I met only had one want. One need. And they'd do anything to get it.

     But she gave up.

     She was still there.

      "I can't." I said, raising her head.

      She raised her head and looked at me again. Looked into me. "R... racke rare of rassie." She struggled to get out with no tongue.

     I didn't know what to do. She smiled at me and looked at my hands before lowering her head again.

     "I'm sorry, Mrs. Goodman. I'll take care of her with my life." I said, holding back tears.

      I put my hands in the same position I had them on Mr. Goodman's head and looked away.

      A single tear broke loose. As it travelled down my face I pulled with one hand and pushed with the other. As the tear fell from my jaw Mrs. Goodman ceased.

      She fell over, lifeless.

     Her parents laid in front of me. Both of the people I promised her I'd save lay dead on the ground. By my hands.

      Sadness turned into rage. I had blood on my hands that would never wash off.

      "I will kill you." The warrior and I said at the same time.

       "And I will enjoy it." I said.