Limbo: The First Circle of Hell
Chapter III
When we pulled into Clutch’s driveway, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a sign that read: Abandon all hope, all ye who enter here.
Not that the farm wasn’t lovely. Fields and woodlands went on for miles and miles. Just above a valley, a long gravel lane led us through several acres of woods, with flowers blooming along both sides. The lane opened up to a classic farm setup: a two-story white farmhouse standing boldly alone with three sheds as backdrop. A tabby cat lounged under a tree, watching me.
Clutch pulled up along the largest shed and cut the engine. The whole scene was idyllic…and very, very isolated. I was alone with a stranger who’d killed Alan and run down several zeds like they were nothing.
Sure, I’d killed Melanie, so I guess I wasn’t any different. But, what if he changed his mind about letting me stay for the night and killed me? Almost as bad, what if he wanted “favors” in exchange for shelter? I’d been terrified of being alone in this mess, but I suddenly wondered if being alone wasn’t the safer option.
“What’s up, Cash? You’re looking at me like I’m about to dismember you.”
Startled, I realized Clutch had taken off his sunglasses and was now watching me. His piercing hazel eyes seemed to see too far into me.
I blinked a few times. “Just feeling like a fish out of water. That’s all,” I replied in a rush, opening the door and jumping outside. In the fresh air, I stretched my tight muscles as I stood before the sun dipping low in the sky. The weather was beautiful, a spring evening with a gentle breeze.
Clutch walked toward the house, and I followed. “I wouldn’t have guessed you for living on a farm,” I said.
“Why?”
“With you being a truck driver—”
“I’m from a fourth-generation farming family on this land. I just drive truck in the off season for extra income.”
He unlocked the porch door, but instead of opening it, he turned around and studied me for several long moments.
Any confidence I’d built bled away under his scrutiny.
“Stay here,” he ordered. He didn’t wait for an answer before disappearing inside, leaving me to wait. The peaceful chirping of crickets was the only sound besides the ringing in my ears, and I realized that the same isolation I feared about this place was the key quality that made it all the safer. The farm was in the middle of nowhere, far from any city. The yard was big enough to see zeds coming from the woods on any side, and the trees concealed us from the roads.
Clutch returned with an armful of rags, some rubber gloves, a garbage bag, and a couple spray bottles. “There better not be a spot left in the cab when I check it out.”
I nodded dutifully, taking the supplies.
“There’s a light in the cab. Just be sure to turn it off when you’re finished. I want to keep everything fully charged in this mess.”
“Light off when I’m done,” I replied with a robot-like tone.
He grunted before turning back into the house.
With a sigh, I headed back to the truck and started scrubbing away every last drop and bit of Alan.
****
Four hours later, I peeled off the yellow gloves covered in brown goo and chemicals. With a sigh, I dropped them into the garbage bag and tied it shut. Even with the industrial-strength stain remover, Alan’s blood had been a bitch to scrub away, and I wouldn’t know if I got everything until daylight. I’d been desperately motivated to do a good job. I only hoped it was good enough that Clutch wouldn’t make me leave before the National Guard got the whole zed thing under control and I could return home.
I sprayed every surface in the cab with one more round of disinfectant before turning off the light and stepping outside and groaned. I was flat-out exhausted. My arms were numb. My lower back hurt. My thigh muscles ached. Every inch of my body throbbed.
Despite the stench, I’d kept the truck doors closed while I cleaned in case any zeds showed up. After taking several deep breaths of fresh night air, I sprayed my grimy body with disinfectant, knowing it probably didn’t do any good, but figured it also couldn’t hurt.
The half-moon was fully overhead now, sharing just enough of its light for me to hurry to the house without tripping over anything. I was half surprised to find the porch door unlocked. Looking down at my Doc Martens, I suspected the black leather was as grimy as I felt. But, there was no way in hell I could scrub them until tomorrow when—hopefully—I could feel my fingertips again. Stepping inside, I took off my boots and left them on the unlit porch.
A savory, meaty smell wafted forth, and my stomach growled. It was late, and I’d lost whatever had been left of my lunch after Alan died. I hustled forward, only to be blocked at the mudroom by a towering Clutch. He was wearing different clothes, and his hair was still wet. Gray peppered his stubble. Lines marked skin that had seen a lot of the outdoors.
He was handsome in a hard way. Maybe it was his eyes. There was an intensity in his gaze. Even without his tattoos, he would’ve had an aura of power.
Or, maybe it was because he had a pistol leveled on me.
My eyes widened as I met his gaze.
He grimaced. “Relax. If I was going to kill you, I would’ve done it outside where you wouldn’t make a mess.”
I chortled. Like that made me feel any better.
It was then I noticed that he was also holding a rag and a small bottle of gun oil. “You were cleaning your gun.”
He looked me up and down before narrowing his eyes. “Take off your clothes.”
I pulled together the collar of my utterly destroyed shirt. “What?”
“I don’t mean it that way. Jesus.” He ran the back of his hand over his face. He laid his weapon on the washer, reached behind him, and pulled out a garbage bag. “You’re covered in zed sludge, and I don’t know how contagious that shit is. Everything’s got to go. I’ll burn it tomorrow.”
He held open the garbage bag. I shot him a hard glare while I unbuttoned what was left of my shirt.
He sighed. “Don’t worry. I won’t look. You’re not my type, anyway. Too scrawny.”
“Scrawny?” I asked but received no response.
Clutch kept his word, looking over my head while I stripped out of my disgusting clothes. I stopped at my bra and underwear. “Nothing soaked through.”
He glanced down and grimaced, like he wasn’t enjoying himself. I scowled. I wasn’t that hard on the eyes, and I was petite, most certainly not scrawny.
“Turn around,” he ordered. “I have to check.”
I gingerly spun and felt his eyes on my back. I shivered, more self-conscious than I’d ever been in my life. If I’d known how this day was going to turn out, I wouldn’t have worn a thong. Then again, I would’ve done many things differently.
“I think they’re savable,” Clutch drawled out in a rough voice. “Throw both in the wash when you’re done with your shower.”
Turning back to face him, I covered my chest as best I could with my arms, though thankfully Clutch was busy looking anywhere but at me.
“The shower’s upstairs. Second door on your left. I set out something you can wear for tonight. Dinner will be ready by the time you’re done.”
“Got it,” I said and hustled past him.
“Oh, and Cash…”
I paused.
“Be sure to scrub good and hard,” he called out behind me. “You’ve got bits of your boyfriend’s brain in your hair.”
Bile rose in my throat, and I bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once in the bathroom, I took deep breaths, refusing to look in the mirror. When I had control of myself again, I pulled off my remaining clothes in a rush, cranked on the shower, and hopped in before it was warm.
The cold water that ran down the drain was brown at first, with little flecks of things I didn’t want to think about. I set the water as hot as I could stand, grabbed the washcloth, and started scrubbing. Clutch clearly wasn’t married, because the shower/tub combo only had a bar of soap and a bottle of generic shampoo.
I washed my hair three times before I felt relatively confident that it was clean. And, I scrubbed at my skin until it was red, standing under the spray until it was lukewarm.
Stepping out, I grabbed the towel left out on top of a thin stack of clothes, and dried myself off. I caught my breath when I looked into the mirror. Dark circles underlined my bloodshot eyes. Fresh bruises marred my chest courtesy of Melanie. I looked like shit, plain and simple.
Picking up the clothes he’d left, I found a pair of white long john bottoms and a gray T-shirt with ARMY across the front. Both were huge on me. The shirt nearly went to my knees, and the bottoms slid down every time I moved. Sifting through the well-stocked medicine cabinet, I found a couple large safety pins and tightened the long johns around my waist.
I couldn’t find a brush, so it took ten painful minutes to finger-comb through my snarled, unconditioned mess. Finally, my strands began to resemble hair again, with its bold red streaks interlaced with the black. Reaching for the dental floss, I pulled out a long strand and used it to tie my hair back before it snarled all over again.
Glancing down at the discarded pile of underwear, I grimaced. I really didn’t want to touch anything that I’d worn today. I probably should’ve tossed it, but I went ahead and wrapped the towel around the tiny pile of undergarments and carried everything down to the washer in the mudroom.
I walked past the kitchen on my way to the mudroom, and saw Clutch pulling plates from a cabinet. His back was to me, though I had no doubt he knew I was there. His back was broad, like he worked out every day. He was well over twice my size. Part of me felt safer, part of me worried how easily he could overpower me.
My stomach growled loudly, and I hustled to the mudroom. After stuffing my dirty clothes in the washer along with Clutch’s clothes that were already in the tub, I went double-duty with the detergent, and started it up.
When I returned to the kitchen, he handed me a cold beer, silverware, and a plate covered with a huge steak, a baked potato, and steak sauce poured over the entire thing. He motioned to the living room. “I eat in there.” He grabbed his own beer and dinner, and I followed him, taking the couch when he claimed the recliner.
I dug in before opening the beer. I was thirsty, but I was even hungrier. With the plate on my lap, I sawed at the T-bone, cutting off the next piece while chewing on a piece twice the size I should’ve cut. “This is really good.”
My words were muffled as I chewed loudly, but Clutch seemed to make them out. “It sucks wasting a good T-bone on the stove, but I don’t know how long the grid will stay up. Figured I may as well clean out the freezer now.”
I swallowed, the steak going down painfully hard in my suddenly constricted throat. I cracked opened the beer and took a long swig. I hadn’t even thought about losing electricity. What else would give out? Water? Phone lines?
Stores would be closed, which meant no fresh food. My sudden reality made me set my fork down. “How long do you think it will be until the military makes it safe again?”
His left brow rose. “I think it’s already too late. The outbreak spread too fast and too hard. If we didn’t get out when we did today, I doubt we’d be talking tonight. You better start getting used to this way of life.”
“But the military—”
“Doesn’t stand a chance against millions of zeds,” he interrupted. “It’s a numbers game. The zeds are spreading too fast. There’s no way our guys can keep them in check. Not without nuking every populated area. And that would also take out any survivors.”
The next bite tasted like cardboard. And the one after that. If nearly everyone turned into a zed, there wouldn’t be anyone left to fight them. Even soldiers weren’t impervious to a zed’s bite if they were caught unaware or without ammo.
If I hadn’t hitched a ride with Clutch, I’d still be in Des Moines, surrounded by zeds right now. Out here, miles from any town, I was relatively safe. More important, I wasn’t in this alone.I looked up. “I have skills.” Not really. “I can help.” I have no idea how. “Give me one more day, and I’ll prove it.”
He shook his head and held up a finger. “The deal’s for one day.”
“An extra pair of eyes and an extra pair of hands can’t hurt. I can help,” I added.
“Do you know how to fire a gun? String a snare?”
“I can learn.”
“It would take you months to become proficient, even if you had the aptitude for it.” He leaned back. “You’ll only slow me down and eat my food.”
“Then I’ll go out and get us more food.”
“First time I take you with me, you’ll get bit, and then I’ll have to put you down.”
“I’ll be careful.” I jutted out my chin. “Besides, I killed a zed today.”
“Really?” The corners of his mouth curled upward. “And exactly how did you manage that?”
I thought for a moment. With sheer luck and a miracle. “With a ‘wet floor’ sign.”
He looked confused at first, then smirked, but shook it off. “You’ll be a drain. You’ll use up more resources than you could possibly bring in.”
“I’ll go get us whatever we need. If something happens to me, then you’ll be on your own again. It’s a no-lose situation for you.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Not good enough. I’m not set up here to take in strays.” He looked up, his gaze hard with resolve. “The deal was for one day. Come tomorrow, you’re on your own. I’ll get you to a car, but then we’re done.”
I wanted to argue. God, I wanted to beg him to change his mind. Instead, I looked down at my plate and gave a tight nod.
Clutch turned on the TV, and flipped through channels. It looked like nearly all the channels were offline. Only one news channel remained, and the reporter was giving updates on the major cities. With the TV as a backdrop, we finished the meal in silence.
When Clutch stood, I came to my feet. “Here,” I said, reaching for his plate. “I’ll clean up.”
He probably thought I was trying to show him how I could help, and he’d be right. He eyed me for a moment before holding out his plate. “I’ll secure outside. When you’re done, there are a couple plastic jugs I set out. Fill them with water.”
“But you’re out in the country,” I said. “Don’t you have well water?”
“I do,” he said. “But the pumps still need electricity. I have a manual pump outside that will still work if the power goes out, but that’s no reason to not be prepared in case it’s too dangerous to leave the house.”
“Oh.” I headed toward the kitchen and paused. I debated for a moment before asking, “Do you have a phone? I’d like to call my parents. They’re still in Des Moines.”
A flash of sympathy flashed on his face, and he pulled out a cell phone and set it on the side table. “I tried to make a call earlier but couldn’t get through. Phone lines are probably still choked.” The look on my face must’ve bothered him, because he added on, “But go ahead and give it a shot.”
“Thanks.”
He left without another word, and I went about cleaning up. After filling the five-gallon jugs, I sat on the couch and watched the cell phone still resting on the side table. I’d been putting off the call, afraid of having my worst fears confirmed. After cracking my knuckles, I grabbed the phone and punched in my parents’ number.
Call Failed.
Next, I tried to send a text message.
Message failed.
“Damn it,” I muttered, tossing the phone on the cushion next to me and leaning back, covering my eyes.
“No luck?”
I jumped at Clutch’s voice. “Service is still swamped. I’ll try again in the morning.”
He turned away.
“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.
“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.