All Is Silence - Deserted Lands #1

Chapter 10 - Part III

C.J.'s hand reached for the barrel of the shotgun in Lizzie's hands. “You ain’t gonna hurt me, Crazy Lizzie.”

“Don’t!” She screamed. I never want to feel that dirty again. Lizzie let the barrel drop.

He grabbed and pulled on the gun.

“No.” Lizzie closed her eyes. Never again. She pulled the trigger.

The shotgun exploded in her hands, bouncing back toward her. The massive explosion in the small room silenced all other sound.

Sound returned: Saj’s panicked baby cries. C.J. howling. Lizzie opened her eyes.

He wobbled in front of her, his bloody hand pressing against his thigh. Blood pumped in spurts from under his hand.

Femoral artery, some logical part of Lizzie’s brain relayed. She wanted him to stop. She didn’t want to kill him.

C.J. lifted his eyes to hers. His face contorted, pale. “I wanted you.” He collapsed in a heap on the cream colored bathmat, now soaked black with blood. Blood pumped from his thigh, but not so fast. His body shook. His breath hissed, and he was still.

If he’s not dead, he will be soon. “C.J., you stupid fucker. Why’d you make me do that?” Lizzie had no idea the human body could hold so much blood.

Saj wailed.

She stepped out of the end of the bathtub as far from the body as she could. She did not let go of her death-grip on the gun.

“Saj, I’m coming.” Her pajama pants fell around her legs. She kicked them off and tossed them on the floor where blood flowed under the tub. “Shit, what a mess.”

Saj stood in the crib crying, pulling himself back and forth against the wall of the crib. “Saj, honey, it’s all right. Sissie’s okay.” Like Hell she is. She leaned the shotgun against the crib. “Sissie had trouble.”

She lifted him out of the crib and held his little shaking body to hers. Her sobs echoed his, her tears flowed to mingle with the hot wet streaks on his cheeks. Her voice joined his in a wail of fear and anguish. Eventually their keening subsided.

Lizzie sniffed, wiping her nose. “Sissie should check your diaper.”

“Sis sis,” he agreed.

She took one last deep shaking breath. Saj’s diaper needed changing. She could do that. She did. Then she mixed him up a bottle with formula, testing the water from the microwave on her wrist to make certain it wouldn’t burn him. For a moment she lost herself in the routine. Then she laid Saj in his crib with the bottle. He sucked hungrily, everything again right in his world. She envied him. His eyelids drooped. She picked up the shotgun and shut the light off.

Lizzie pulled on her mom’s gardening jeans and a flannel shirt from the closet, leaning the shotgun inside. She returned to the carnage of the bathroom. Curtis’s body lay as she had left him. His empty eyes stared at the ceiling. Part of her wanted to close the lids, so she didn’t have to see those eyes. But if that would offer his soul some level of peace, she wasn’t ready to grant him that, not yet. She remembered trying to read Dante. This sick bastard needed to spend a long time in purgatory at least. Not that she believed in souls or an afterlife.

She noticed her blood spattered hands, flipped the hot water to high, took the rubbing alcohol out of the medicine cabinet and poured it over her hands. When the water was steaming she stuck her hands under and rubbed at the red spots. The water burned, but she wanted to be clean, and it helped her focus, to feel alive. She scrubbed her hands dry on the “Guest” hand towel and tossed it toward the clothes hamper. Then she put on some latex gloves from the first aid kit.

The blood-soaked bathmat was large, and had most of the mess on it. She grabbed the corners and tugged it out of the room. His left leg caught on the remnants of the door. She flipped it over her arm and continued pulling.

Dammit, he's heavy. “C.J., you fucking asshole.” The smell of blood, death and beer threatened to make her vomit. She looked away, down the hall. Blood was smeared all over the carpet. Well, it had been ugly before.

When she got to the front door her breaths heaved and her shoulders ached. She stood and shook herself out. She opened the door. His body seemed stiffer. How long did it take for rigor mortis to set in? She had no idea.

At the base of the steps, outside the front door, she let his legs fall. His body leaned on the steps; his unseeing eyes stared at the sky. She started crying again. Silently this time. Through her tears, she stabbed her latex-covered finger in the blood and wrote one word on his white t-shirt: Fucker. She stared at blood on her hand. She’d done this. C.J. was dead. They’d been friends. Sort of. She reached up and slid his eyelids shut. I’m sorry. His body was already too cold.

Lizzie wiped her finger on the grass. Then rage overtook the sadness and regret. Never again. You’re never gonna rape anyone again.Never. Never. Never. She punctuated each thought with a kick. Her body shook, she dropped to her knees, and puked all over his legs.

She sidled away from the body and hugged herself, arms around her legs in the pre-dawn light.

After a while, cold brought her back to herself. She stumbled inside, shutting and locking the door behind her, She retrieved the shotgun and cleaned herself up in the kitchen sink. In the other room Saj began to cry.

“I’m coming, Saj.” She went to him carrying the shotgun. “Come on, little man.” His cries changed to a whimper at her voice. “Sissie’ll hold you.” She picked up the binky and put it in his mouth. She took him into the front room and sat down in the recliner, spinning it to face the door.

She balanced the shotgun on her lap and pulled Saj onto her chest, his head nestled under her chin.

He snuggled against her—his breath calm and his eyes closed as he sucked the binky. Lizzie watched his back rise and fall. She faded into sleep, but kept jerking awake. Each time, her heart racing, she expected to see the bloody apparition of C.J. coming through the door. Too many damn zombie movies.

End of Chapter 10

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