AWOL: A Character Lost (4 page)

When he finished dressing, he brushed his teeth with an extra tooth brush she had, put on some deodorant, and then made his way into the living room.

Becky’s cottage looked small from the outside with its white siding, red roof, and black shingles; but inside it lived large. There was a kitchen, a living room/dining room, two full bedrooms, and one full bath. Becky had decorated it to her tastes after her husband had passed, so it had a woman’s touch everywhere you looked.

On the mantle she had several pictures. The character walked over to look at them as the blaze in the fireplace cracked and popped. The warmth felt good.

“That’s my husband,” Becky replied behind him

The character picked up the picture. It was of a man with a large axe slung over his shoulder. He was big and brawny, muscular, with a thick beard and short hair. This picture looked like it had been taken sometime in the fall. The leaves on the trees were turning all shades of different colors, gold and red seemed to dominate the scene, but yellow was holding its own against those two.

“Sorry for your loss.”

“It’s okay. He’s been gone a couple of years now. I’ve gotten past the hurting, but the emptiness will never leave, no matter what I do, it will always be there.”

The character put the picture back on the mantle and walked over to the table. Becky was putting out a good hearty breakfast – biscuits and gravy, sausage, bacon, eggs, grits, and fruit. It was more than enough to feed his appetite, which was suddenly alive and hungry.

“You didn’t have to go through so much trouble.”

Becky was in and out of the kitchen as she was talking. Currently, she was in the kitchen getting the coffee ready. “It’s nice to cook for a man again.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Nope, just take a seat and dig in.”

“Are you sure?”

She came back from the kitchen with the pot of coffee and two cups. She put one cup at each place setting and then put the pot down. “Cream, sugar, neither?”

“Black is fine. Please take a seat.”

“The clothes fit you well.” She sat down as she said this.

“Thanks again.”

“You didn’t wear the boxers, did you?”

“How did you know?”

“My husband was the same way. It’s a guy thing.” She looked across the table of food and then at the character’s empty plate. “Well, dig in.”

The character did just that, in fact, both of them did.

Time passed, breakfast ended, and they found themselves sitting on opposite sides of the couch in front of the fire.

“I guess your wife misses you.”

The character looked down at the gold ring on his finger. He hadn’t really thought about it before this day. Even when he was with the author or in the truck with Eric in the zombie story, he still didn’t think about it. Also, when he was in the zombie story, he had on gloves a lot so he really didn’t see it all that much. Those gloves had followed him from that story to this one, so this was the first real chance he had to look at it, to really notice it, and to think about it. Somewhere, there was a woman who had put this ring on his finger and he had no clue where she was.

“I’m sure she does,” the character replied, twirling the ring for a moment as the light of the fire flashed off of the solid gold surface.

“Where is she? You kind of just showed up without her.”

Silence for a moment. The fire talked as they waited for the next moments of dialogue to fall out of their mouths like ice cubes onto the floor.

The character ended the silence by dodging the question. He wasn’t sure how to answer it, so he tried to move the conversation another way. He knew the author would be proud of him for not discussing it further. Becky seemed to understand the character didn’t want to talk about it, so, she left it alone, and didn’t press it further.

“What’s going on exactly? With the vampires and the werewolves, which, by the way, aren’t textbook? I mean they aren’t the traditional way we know vampires and werewolves?”

Becky drew in a breath, ran her hands through her short blonde hair, and got up. She walked over and threw a log onto the fire. It began its feast on this new piece of wood, instantly.

Becky came back, and this time she sat down beside the character. He, of course, noticed the gesture.

“It started right around the time my husband died. He was out late one night chopping wood for the winter. I heard this terrible scream; and, then when I went out to see what it was, one of those werewolf things was tearing him to shreds. He had managed to get an axe into it, but the thing was unfazed. It took us a while to realize silver was the weapon of choice against them. Anyway, I went out to help him, and I heard this whistle. I looked up and saw one of those vampires sitting on a horse nearby watching the whole thing. The werewolf was his pet, and it came when he called it, like a dog.”

She got up from the couch again. “Excuse me a minute.”

Becky went into the kitchen and got some water, wiping away the moistness from her eyes as she walked. She came back and sat down beside the character, ever so closer, eyes dry and red. She sipped on the water for a moment and composed herself. She put the glass down on the coffee table, and turned to face the character after putting her hand on his knee. He felt a stirring, but hoped it would contain itself.

“Where was I?”

“You had just seen them.”

“Both of them were so hideous that I was frozen for a moment. I didn’t even check on my husband, but I knew he was dead. There was just so much blood and pieces. Nobody could have survived an attack like that, not even him.”

She trailed off, another sip, back to the story.

“I unfroze and went back inside for a weapon, but by the time I got back the vampire was gone. So was the werewolf. I guess you could call it a werewolf. That’s what we call them, but no, they aren’t true werewolves. We think the vampires modify them in such a way, genetically alter them some how.”

“How did you know it was a vampire?”

“I’m not sure, but I think while I stood there it smiled at me or hissed, but either way, I saw its teeth glinting in the moon light. I could see the fangs. I guess I just put my best assumption on it.”

“Sharp eyes,” the character replied, watching the fire for a moment.

“You have to have them out here.”

She took another sip of water and continued.

“I buried my husband the next day, what was left of him, and then went into town. I heard more people talking about something similar happening to them the previous night. The mortuary was overrun with crying people, widows and widowers. Shortly thereafter, with the next full moon, the attacks happened, I mean really happened. The night my husband died, it was more like a –”

“Test killing,” the character replied, eyes back on Becky.

“That’s a good way to put it because when the attacks started to happen, at each full moon, they were more lethal, more people died, and on the night of my husband’s death, no one was taken. It was like they were just testing these beasts to see how they worked.”

She paused, a gulp of water, back to it.

“We think the werewolves are sent ahead of this pack of vampires in order to create chaos. The vampires then swoop in on their horses and go on the hunt. The ones they decide are feeding worthy are taken back to their castle.”

“So you guys were trying to stop it tonight?”

“Just the werewolves, we knew we were no match for both of them, especially at night. We were hoping to minimize the carnage by taking out one wave of the attacks.”

“Has anyone been to the castle?” The character asked, as he looked at the fire, which crackled and popped, as it had its way with the wood.

“No, because the werewolves guard the castle as the vampires sleep. We’ve scouted it out, but no one has tried to approach it. It’s too risky.”

She yawned, and he joined her. She looked at him, the light reflecting off her soft blue eyes. He turned to face her as she squeezed his knee. He really wanted her and was trying not to. What she was wearing didn’t help, tight black house pants, loose shirt, no bra, nipples erect against the cotton fabric.

“I know this is off subject and maybe a bit forward, but would you be up to us -” She bit her lip like a school girl. “It has just been a long time for me, and you are the first guy I have been attracted to since I lost my husband.”

“I’m flattered. I really am, but my wife and kids -”

“Enough said. I understand. I’m sorry.”

“In another time and another place, I would be all over you. I’m fighting the devil right now. Trust me on this.”

“We should get some sleep.” Tears started to slip from her eyes as she turned away from him.

He touched her chin and turned her head back around so they could see eye to eye. “Look, it was on both of our minds, and I’m not just saying another time and another place to be a nice guy. I really mean that.”

“I know,” she replied.

He took her in his arms and held her. She lay against his chest and wasn’t ashamed to let the tears flow free. He thought about the fight and how strong she had seemed. I guess everyone has a breaking point.

His eyes felt heavy as she snuggled in, and eventually stopped crying.

The fire popped and sizzled, burning steady.

Time passed, and they both slept.

*

They woke up sometime in the middle of the afternoon. The house was cold, and the fire was out. The sun had now shifted its position and was slanting in through the windows at different angles. The character wiped the sleep out of his eyes as Becky rose up to a sitting position, and stretched, her breasts pushing against the fabric, nipples erect from the cold.

“What time is it?”

He looked at the clock on the wall. “Somewhere after 3,” he replied, eyes shifting to her breasts. He still wanted her.

“Crap.”

“What?” He asked, eyes shifting from her breasts to her face.

“We were supposed to be at the castle by at least 4.”

“Why?”

“The sun sets quicker these days, and we need to hit these bastards at dusk, which will be somewhere close to 5 or a little after. Tonight they feed, and this is when they will be the weakest. If we don’t get them now, then they will go back into their slumber for another month. With the werewolves in disarray, this is the best chance we will ever have.”

“How far is the castle?”

“We can be there by 4 if we leave now.” She got up off the couch and stretched. “What do you need to do so you can be ready?”

“Nothing really, I just need something warm.”

“You’ll need long underwear under those pants, and another couple of layers.”

“What I had on before was fine.”

“Clean stuff’s better, plus its warmer. Let me change, and then I will help you.”

She went into the master bedroom and left the character alone. He sat there for a moment with his eyes closed, trying to calm his nerves. He opened his eyes and noticed the master bedroom door hadn’t closed all the way. He could see her moving around inside there, undressing. He knew he should have looked away, but he couldn’t help it. With each layer she lost he saw just how beautiful she was, not just in the face, but all over. Eyes fulfilled, he turned away and stood up. He adjusted himself and let the small erection fall back to limp, as he looked out the front window to the lawn, to the road where the battle happened, and to the distance that lay ahead of them.

“I’m ready. Try these on.” She was holding out a pair of long white underwear. He took them from her. “They look new.”

“Never worn, if that makes you happy, Mr. I free ball it instead of wear boxers.”

He smiled and then went into the bathroom to change.

When he came back, he was nice and toasty down in his lower regions.

She had found him a hat and gloves as well as a coat.

He suited up as she suited up.

“Tell me something,” the character replied.

“Yes.”

“Can you kill these vampires in the traditional way or do these guys require something special?”

“Wooden stakes, garlic, and holy water work the best, but the one thing that is different is their skin. It toughens up once they feed, and that toughness lasts up until tonight. It really is just a snap of the fingers when they go from invincible to vulnerable and vice versa.”

“How do you know so much?”

“We caught one about a year ago, and we studied him from feeding cycle to feeding cycle. They’re all he’s by the way, not a female among them. Anyway, that’s how we discovered their weakness.” She looked both of them over when they were done. “We look good.”

“I’m getting warm.”

“Trust me. You will need it.” She went into the kitchen as the character stood by the door and waited. She came back with a backpack slung over her shoulder. “I packed this last night, food and supplies, for the journey. I put a little something extra in there for you as well, since I originally just packed for one.”

“Thanks. Are we walking?”

“It’s the only way. A car would signal our arrival, and they could smell a horse from miles away. Come to think of it, they could probably smell the car as well.”

“Will we make it on time?”

She looked at the clock. “Maybe, but we might have to pick up the pace.”

“That’s fine.”

“Can you handle it?”

“I was a runner once, I think.”

“You are a strange little man, you know that. Let’s go.”

She opened the door, and they stepped onto the porch, wooden boards creaking as they did. A blast of cold air hit them both right in the face.

“The wind is blowing away from the castle. Let’s hope it stays that way,” she replied, as she he locked the door.

They walked down to the road and turned towards the castle, wind in their face, coloring their cheeks and noses red, watering their eyes. They pushed on to their destination with the sun’s rays barely hanging on, losing their fight-
gradually
-with the night.

*

Twelve people were at the rendezvous point when Becky and the character arrived, somewhere around 4:15 P.M. that afternoon. Most of the people there where at the fight the previous night, but the character noticed a few new faces spread throughout the crowd. They were all armed with various kinds of weapons, cross bows, wooden stakes, and bow and arrows seemed to be the most popular weapons of choice.