“Need help with anything else?” I scanned the room, and my eyes fell on the windows. “I could help you board up the windows.”
He followed my gaze. “I’ll get to those tomorrow. I’m far enough out of town that as long as we keep dark and quiet, we should be okay for tonight. From what I’ve seen, zeds operate with minimal physical acuity. It won’t take much to defend this place against a few who find their way near the house.”
“I can help in the morning,” I offered hopefully. “Many hands make light work, you know.”
He watched me. “Get some sleep, Cash. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.”
He turned and headed up the stairs. He didn’t say I was staying. But he also didn’t say I was leaving, and I clung onto that tiny splinter of hope.
“Why do you call me Cash?” I asked as I followed him upstairs.
“You were dressed like Johnny Cash when you jumped onto my truck.”
“Oh.” I thought for a moment “I guess I do wear black a lot.” I glanced down at the oversized T-shirt and long johns. “But not always.”
Clutch showed me to the guest bedroom containing only an old dresser and a full-sized bed. No pictures hung on the wall. The bedding was flannel and, though dated, looked enticingly comfortable.
I pulled back the comforter and found myself shoved onto my stomach. Clutch’s weight bore down on me from behind. My face pressed against the mattress. I tried to fend him off, but he managed to pull my arms behind my back, and I heard the zip of a plastic cord as it tightened around my wrists.
“Fucking asshole!” I yelled out, kicking, while he all too easily did the same to my ankles.
“You keep going on like that, Cash,” he murmured from behind me. “We’re going to have zeds from a twenty-mile radius upon us.”
I quieted, kicking at him as he backed away. No matter what he had planned, I refused to go down without a fight. “Asshole,” I muttered.
Clutch pulled the comforter out from under me. I tried to roll off the bed, but he pulled me back and then, surprisingly, covered me with the blankets. He positioned the pillow under my head.
Frowning I looked up at him. “What are you doing?” My voice cracked.
“I don’t want to wake up to find a zed loose in my house,” he said before walking to the door, where he paused. “If you don’t turn, I won’t have to kill you in the morning.”
Then he turned out the light and left me alone in the dark.
Chapter IV
I bolted awake at the sound of a thunderous gunshot. My wrists and ankles were free, the plastic ties lying in broken pieces beside me. I jumped to my feet, and every muscle in my body protested. With a wince, I made my way to the window. The sun had not yet peeked above the trees bordering the backyard, but in the glimmer of morning light I caught sight of Clutch dragging a body and disappearing around the side of a smaller shed.
A zed? Someone else?
I scanned for more signs but found nothing. The yard stood empty except for a large vegetable garden that had been tilled for spring planting and three, twenty-foot cylinders of propane sitting side-by-side. Beyond the yard stood acres and acres of woodland, making it impossible to see if there were more intruders out there.
The birds had started singing their morning songs again, which meant my hearing hadn’t been permanently damaged by the shotgun blast yesterday. The birds chirped like the world was peaceful, but they lied. The world was deadly and vicious. And, instead of getting ready for work, I was about to head out and fight for my life.
I rubbed the pink scrapes that marred my wrists where I’d wriggled to pull free last night, but the plastic hadn’t stretched. I wanted to crawl back into bed and pretend that it was Wednesday—not Friday—the day before the world I knew ended. But, I needed an early start if I was going to find a safe place before dark. After a quick stop at the bathroom, I headed downstairs to find Clutch sitting in his recliner, decked out in camos, eating eggs, and watching the news.