Dead Hunt (17 page)

His cloak and dagger bullshit was starting to
play on her nerves, and that was when it hit her - cloak and
dagger. Michael was purposely trying to be confusing with what he
was saying. But why? Several realizations rushed to her at once:
Michael had videotaped his message on a camcorder outside, where it
was dangerous and not within the protective walls of the steel lab.
Robin could have easily videotaped a message for him; this whole
building was a one giant video camera. Lucy looked above the door
frame at the shattered camera. Robin might be able to still hear,
but she could not see inside the room; she could not see the
messages Michael wrote.

Lucy realized that would explain the song
lyrics and other nonsense he was now saying. Michael was stalling,
allowing Lucy time to figure it out. Her mind raced back to the
cellar and their conversation, when a question Michael had asked
her jumped back into her memory.

“Can computers lie?”

“This one can!” Lucy repeated the answer
soundlessly.

It was then that Lucy realized the effort
Michael had gone through to protect her in this room, when all he
needed to do was have Robin seal the lab. Michael did not trust
Robin. That meant Robin was up to something. Michael knew it, and
he was…

“Gone,” she whispered.

Michael had left her here. Her eyes started
to tear as she looked at the tiny screen. Michael held up another
message:

“Looking for food. Stay in the room.”

She watched Michael lean forward to shut the
camera off, but he paused. He stepped back and whispered softly, “I
can’t wait to see you in that hot tub.” The screen went black, but
Lucy had already left it. She was at the foot of the bed and
climbing onto the dresser. At five feet tall she could just barely
get her head into the attic. She pivoted cautiously on her perch as
she looked around the dimly lit space. She could see the giant hole
in the wall which Paul had kicked in, but she could not see
Lauren’s body.

“Michael must have moved it,” she thought.
And with that thought came another: “Where did he put her? Where
are the bodies?”

Lucy climbed back down and lay on the soft
bed. She rewound the tape and played it again. A few more drinks of
water and Lucy suddenly realized her little bedroom fortress did
not have a bathroom. Then she remembered the closet. She went back
to the closet, looked at the floor and saw the bucket. Next to it
sat a roll of toilet paper.

“Water closet,” Lucy laughed. “Mikey, you
have a sick sense of humor.”

CHAPTER 18 – Michael

Lucy awoke with a start. She thought she
heard something moving. She tilted her head, concentrating when she
heard another clunk. She scurried atop the dresser and started to
jump into the attic. As she did, something hard cracked into her
head, knocking her backwards. She fell on the bed and bounced
sideways but managed to stop herself from tumbling to the floor.
She stared at the hole in the ceiling. She watched the outline of a
head appear. A few seconds later, the head had somehow flipped,
almost acrobatically, and the torso of a man was standing on the
dresser, his head still in the rafters. The figure bent its knees
and the head looked at her. Lucy finally exhaled the breath she
hadn’t known she was holding.

“Michael!” she whispered.

“Hi-ya, Luce,” Michael smiled. “Going
somewhere?”

“I heard a noise.”

“Yeah, that was me, sorry. It’s not easy
scaling up the side of a building without making some sort of
noise. I yelled to you, but you didn’t answer, so I figured you
were still asleep.” Michael rubbed his chin, “I think you
dislocated my jaw.”

“Sorry,” she apologized as she bounced to her
feet and hugged him. A minute later she said, “Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you enjoy the view?” she asked.

“What?”

Lucy pulled the wooly fabric of the sweater.
“The view, did you enjoy it?”

“Oh, that,” he said, his face reddening.

“And did you bathe me as well?” she asked,
her eyes burning with anger.

He lowered his head without saying a word. He
didn’t have to.

Lucy punched him in the arm. “I can’t believe
you’d stoop so low as to undress me when I was unconscious! How
dare you?” her temper was starting to flare. “Of all the….”

“What did you want me to do, leave you the
way you were?”

“Yes!” she snapped back.

“Ok, the next time you are unconscious and
covered in blood and filth from zombies, I will leave you just the
way you are. That way, while you are sleeping, you can rub your
hands in that filth and possibly put them in your mouth!”

Lucy froze.

He continued in a softer voice. “Lucy, I only
did what I had to do to protect you. I’m sorry if I offended
you.”

“No, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just being
silly.”

“No,” he said. “You are just being Lucy.”

She smiled and asked, “And what’s that
supposed to mean?”

“You like it when guys look at you, but only
as long as you’re in control.”

That stung her more than a slap in the face.
But, as usual, Michael was right. She’d lost track of how many
times she flaunted herself in front of boys, and men, and enjoyed
the attention.

“And, Lucy,” Michael added with a smile, “the
answer is yes, I did enjoy the view.”

She punched him again, more playfully than
last time, but hard enough that he felt it.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” she said hugging
him again. “I was so scared. I thought you left me.”

“I would never leave you,” he promised.

Michael could feel the warmth and softness of
her body press into him. Another minute passed before she unlocked
her arms from around him.

“Hey, I found some food,” he said as he
slipped a knapsack off his back.

Bottled water, a few bags of chips, a jar of
peanut butter, bread, a bag of cookies and other junk food spilled
onto the bed.

“A gourmet meal,” Lucy laughed.

“Yeah, it’s hard to find anything that hasn’t
been tainted with water or needs to be cooked in water.”

She picked up the bread.

“That might be a little stale,” he explained,
“But it was made before all this shit happened, so it should be
safe.”

Lucy checked the packaging date on the other
items. Everything had been packaged at least two days or more
before their whole world had collapsed. Michael thought of
everything. She held the peanut butter in one hand and the bread in
the other.

“Knife?” she inquired.

He reached behind him but stopped.

“I don’t think either of us wants to make a
sandwich with that knife.”

So maybe he hadn’t thought of everything, but
if it wasn’t for him, she would be dead already. Lucy unscrewed the
lid, and, using her fingers, dipped them into the jar, and spread
some peanut butter across the bread.

“Our fingers were good enough when we were
kids,” she laughed.

Michael reached for the jar, but Lucy pulled
it away.

“Excuse me, I don’t know where your fingers
have been,” Lucy said as her face flushed red.

“Not there,” he reassured her.

“Promise?” she said, almost pleading.

“Lucy,” Michael leaned in close. He could
feel her warm breath on his face.

“I would never do that to you,” he whispered,
their eyes locking.

“I know,” she responded in a breathy voice.
“I just need to know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Is this the best shirt you could find?”

They both laughed.

“It was in the closet,” he grinned.

“It’s a ratty old sweater, and it’s a million
degrees in here!”

“It’s cooler at night, and with the windows
boarded up, it takes longer to heat up,” Michael explained.

“Oh.”

Michael stuck his fingers in the jar and
pulled out a dollop of peanut butter to slap on his bread. As he
did so, he noticed the buttons on Lucy’s sweater were spaced rather
far apart, revealing a lot of flesh.

“I think the sweater looks nice on you,” he
told her. He could feel his face turning red.

Lucy looked down and noticed the large gap
between the buttons.

“Ugh,” she said pulling her sweater closed
with one hand and pushing him with the other. “Men! Can you please
find me something else to wear besides this? It stinks, and I don’t
want to be playing peek-a-boo with you every time I move.”

“I was beginning to like peek-a-boo,” Michael
laughed, still flushed with embarrassment as Lucy playfully pushed
him. “But I will find something else for you later,” he reassured
her.

“Thank you,” she said dryly. “And,
Michael?”

“Yeah, Luce?”

“I’m sorry I got mad at you. You
know…before.”

“That’s ok, Lucy, I understand. I would have
done the same thing.”

“Oh, please,” Lucy laughed. “If you woke up
and discovered I had changed your clothes and bathed you, you would
be dancing with joy.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I would be pissed.”

Lucy didn’t know how to take his response.
His face looked as if was being truthful.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I would have been unconscious and
missed it,” he laughed as she punched his arm again.

They ate in silence after that. Lucy glanced
at him a few times and occasionally caught him stealing a look
between the buttons.

“Oh, for Gods sake!” she said, standing
up.

“What? What is it?” Michael asked.

Lucy stood in front of him, unbuttoned the
sweater and let it fall to the floor. “Just look already. You’re
trying to peek at them without getting caught, and you’re driving
me up the wall! So just take a good look and get it over with!”

She held her hands on her hips defiantly and
stared off in the distance looking at nothing. When she finally
looked down, Michael was reaching for her sweater. As he stood, he
gently pulled the sweater up over her arms and shoulders and
clasped it in front of her.

“Lucy, you are beautiful, sexy and the most
wonderful person I have ever known,” he said in a soothing voice.
“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“Michael,” she started to protest but he
silenced her with a gentle finger to her lips.

“Lucy, I could spend hours getting lost just
looking in your eyes, watching how your nose crinkles when you
concentrate, or how your tongue darts out just a little to wet your
lips before you speak. I could fill an entire day just watching how
your hair brushes against your cheek. I’m sorry I was staring where
I should not have been looking, but you do not need to take your
clothes off for me to enjoy the view.”

“So you don’t want to see me naked?” she
blurted and recognized how cold it sounded.

Michael just smiled his warm smile.

“What I meant was…” she tried to explain, but
he silenced her again with a finger to her lips.

“The view,” he smiled warmly, “is as
magnificent as you are.”

Michael leaned towards her. She tilted her
head to receive him, but much to her surprise he did not try to
kiss her. Instead he leaned into her ear and whispered, “I am
sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Liar,” she smiled. Michael smiled with
her.

“Would you believe, I will try my best not to
get caught looking?”

“That’s better,” Lucy laughed as she started
to button the sweater and sat back down on the floor.

Michael sat across from her, and they laughed
at each other as they stuck their fingers in the jar and tried to
use them as a knife to spread the peanut butter. While they talked,
Lucy noticed his gaze would still sometimes fall to her chest. She
also noticed that it no longer upset her.

“You have some peanut butter on the side of
your face,” she told him.

Much to his surprise, and hers, she leaned
over and licked it from his cheek.

CHAPTER 19 – Robin

“We have work to do,” Michael said when he
recovered from the shock of having Lucy lick his face.

She hadn’t expected to do that, but she had
expected Michael to take advantage of the moment. But, being the
perpetual gentleman that he was, Michael didn’t even try to kiss
her. She imagined herself lying on the bed, unconscious and naked,
with Michael leaning over her gently washing away the filth from
her body. She imagined how gentle and timid his touch would have
been, how he probably cursed himself for having to see her naked
without her knowledge. She imagined his hands gently washing
her….

“What work?” Lucy asked, forcing her mind
back to reality before her thoughts of Michael’s sponge bath got
too out of hand.

“Robin has something we need to do for her.
She wouldn’t tell me the details except that she wanted the both of
us.”

Lucy silently pointed to the smashed camera
above the door, then to the camcorder.

“Ahh, yes,” Michael smiled. “We need our
privacy for those times when all is not what it seems.”

“Remember the cellar?” she whispered.

“Precisely, my Dear Watson, precisely”

“I thought it was, elementary, my dear
Watson?” Lucy laughed.

“It matters not, for in the morrow, all shall
be revealed.”

“What?”

“We’ll find out what she wants soon enough,”
he told her. “Now for the big decision.”

“Which is?”

“Do we use the door,” he pointed to the
boarded up doorway, “or shall we take the scenic route?” He nodded
towards the hole in the ceiling.

“Until we know the flood gates won’t be
opened again, maybe the scenic route would be best?” Lucy
suggested.

“True,” he answered as he motioned her to the
dresser.

Michael lifted Lucy’s small frame into the
attic. As he was climbing in, Lucy looked back and smiled, “Are you
going to be staring at my butt the whole way?”

“Of course not,” he answered. “Occasionally I
will look where I am going.”