Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Ch. Twenty-Seven

Shane held the knife out to me and I shook my head. "No."

"Raleigh," Shane began but I jumped up, backing away until I came up against a wall.

"No," I repeated, still looking at the body. "You do it."

Shane shook his head slowly, his eyes a little sad. "No. You need to do it."

"Why?" I hissed, arms wrapping around myself as I started to shake a little again.

"Because you need to know the feel of it. How much muscle it takes for you to shove a knife through a skull." Shane wiggled the knife at me, holding it by the blade. When I still didn't take it, he said, "And you need to do it in a controlled environment."

I stood there in silence, one part of my mind arguing that he was right, while the other yelled that he was nuts. Eventually, I made the mistake of looking away from the body to find Shane just watching me in that way he does.

I don't know if you've ever seen it, but it's a look just so full of expectation and confidence.

Come to think of it, now I know you haven't seen it. When Shane looks at you like that, you can't possibly let him down.

Squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, I shook my head once more before walking back over to Shane, my movements stiff. I took the knife from him, the hilt slipping a little in my sweaty palm.

I knelt down on the other side of the body, and Shane said, "Okay. First off, do not try to stab into the forehead. You know probably better than I do that that's the hardest, thickest part of the skull. With a blade that size, you're more likely to do more damage to yourself than your opponent." He shrugged. "You get your hands on something a little heavier, or longer, then go for the forehead all you want."

I relaxed a little at the clinical sound of his voice, and tried to pretend like this was just another class. Shane paused, adjusting my grip on the knife so that the blade extended past my pinkie, sharp side facing away from me. "It's easier to stab down or slash to the side if you hold it like that."

Shane waited until I nodded, then gestured to the head. "So you tell me the most vulnerable parts of the skull."

I inhaled as deeply as I could, feeling like my lungs weren't expanding the way they should. "Um... the uh, the eye socket."

Shane nodded. "That's one."

I bit my lip, trying to get my stupid brain to work with me. "Through the ear."

"Yes. Good. Those will be the places of least resistance. The other two are through the temple, since the bone is relatively thin and at the base of the skull, near the spine." Shane demonstrated by touching my temple, then my neck as he said it, his fingers warm against my cold skin.

I took another deep breath, then looked down sharply when I felt something brush my knee.

The man had turned.

I don't know why, but it always seems like the people who die from bites turn more quickly than the people who die any other way. Maybe it's just a more active version of the virus coming from a bite. I don't know if it matters, though. It's just a theory of Kyle's.

His eyes were cloudy white, but seemed to watch me with laser focus as he tried to wiggle nearer, his teeth snapping.

"Do it now, Raleigh," Shane said, placing a hand on the man's ruined chest, keeping him from flopping toward me. He didn't seem to mind when sticky blood oozed up between his fingers. "Just through the eye for this go round."

I watched the zombie struggle, the stumps of its arms trying to reach toward Shane now. 

"Don't think about it, Raleigh. Just do it." His voice was soft but insistent. A gently given order.