Determined To Live (9 page)

"Your new name
is Buffy!" she exclaims.

What the
frick
!

"Buffy? Why in
the he― Why Buffy?" I ask her.

"She kills bad
people too. Like you!"

"Um,
Mel, she killed
vampires
.
These are zombies," I explain.

Her face falls
again.

Sure, I could
have just said ok and let her call me Buffy.

But that is
so
not frikken happening!

"Look, why
don't you think about it for a while and let me get some things done
that I need to do, so we can get some sleep. Sound good?"

She nods her head
automatically, but I'm positive she didn't hear a damn word I said,
my new name being the only thing on her mind.

I
rise, adjust my crutches, and when I open the back door and step out
onto the porch, I can sense her right behind me. I turn just enough
that I can see her little face - looking sad, scared, and worried. I
drop my head and sigh, knowing I can't allow her to be left alone and
so afraid. But
I'm
afraid too, of not being able to protect her in my handicapped state.

"Alright
look, Mel. I want you to stay on this porch. Do
not
come down these stairs. Look at me!" I order her when she drops
her head.

She obeys -
reluctantly - and looks into my eyes.

"I
can't protect you while I'm on these crutches. You
will
do what I say or you'll go back inside. Understand?"

She
nods her head, still not happy, but I really don't care. It's for her
own protection because I am
not
letting her become a zombie snack.

I
nod back at her and move closer to the stairs. Looking around to make
sure nothing is moving on the ground below, I sit and butt-bump down
the stairs -
slowly
- always watching the shadows. I make it down to the third step and
pick up the crutches I'd slid down beside me. Holding them in one
hand, I use the banister to stand up, and then transfer my weight
onto the wooden sticks.

At
the truck, I go to the back to see if there is anything that will fit
me. I'm more than a little surprised to find a plastic bag with
several pairs of black fatigues,
all
in my size!

I figure Jake must
have left some of the ones he got for me at one of the armories here
in his truck, and I'm incredibly grateful!

Stuffing a pair
inside my jacket, I dig through Jake's duffel bag for anything else
that might come in handy. As I reach the bottom of the bag, my
surprise and delight from the fatigues turns into shock and horror.

What in the
hell
is this!

I don't know how
long I've stood here, my mind and body frozen in a state of numbness
and confusion, but Mel's terrified little voice screaming, "Watch
out!" jerks me back to my terror-filled reality.

I turn, whipping
out my gun.

The zombie she was
screaming about is
at
least
the
distance of
three
football fields away from me.

Shit, little
girl!

Nothing like a
frikken heart attack to ruin an evening.

I
whisper up to her as loud as I can, that she is not to scream unless
they are a
lot
closer. When I see her face crumble, I attempt to soften the
harshness of my words spoken in fear, "But thank you and great
eyesight, babe."

She
smiles again, puffing out her chest with pride, and goes back to
look-out duty. I shake my head, turn, and sit in the back of the
truck. With my legs dangling from the opening, I swing the
sniper-rifle around and bring the scope up to my eye. Focusing and
zeroing in on what I can now clearly see is a middle-aged man, but
who is definitely an
undead
middle-aged man, I take the shot and his body slams to the ground.

Melody loudly claps
her hands and jumps up and down...until she sees the pissed-off look
I give her. Instantly her body stills, she drops her hands, and
whispers, "Sorry" to me.

I grab the duffel
bag after taking another good look around with the rifle scope, and
drop it on the stairs.

"Hey Mel,"
I call up in a loud whisper. I see her cute little head lean over the
railing of the porch and I smile up at her.

"Yeah?"

"How many cars
are inside the garage?"

"One."

"Ok. Do you
think my truck will fit? Is there enough room, or do they have a
bunch of junk in there?"

"Your truck
will fit," Mel tells me with certainty.

"One more
thing. Do you know if there's a button inside the house that opens
the garage?"

"Yes! It's
right by the door. Want me to push it? Please? I axed them nicely
once if I could, but they telled me no."

I nod to her and go
back to the truck. As soon as I'm inside, the garage doors rumble up.
I see the kidnappers car and the empty slot next to it. I start the
truck, pull inside, and after parking, I make my way to their SUV and
open the door with no problem.

I gotta admit,
I'm surprised it was unlocked. I don't know why. Maybe because they
have a lot of shit to hide, such as a
little
girl
!
I guess I just
assumed everything would be locked and hidden, paranoid-style. But
then again, I guess they probably
would
want a quick getaway.

I lean inside and
rip the garage door-opener from off their sun visor, then attach it
to my own in the truck. Just in case we need to go somewhere, I won't
have to deal with getting in and out so much with these crutches to
open the garage door when we come back. I definitely can't lift that
big-ass door with only one supporting foot - and it's just not safe
to leave open, since zombies don't care if they're trespassing - or
pretty much anything else, except eating people.

I make my way out
of the garage and slide my crutches onto the porch, where Mel takes
them and moves them further back. Then I lift the duffel bag and move
it two stairs above me each time my ass moves up.

Finally
I'm back at the top and ready to go inside and stay there, at least
for as long as I can. Mel attempts to help me stand -
I
give her an 'A' for effort
-
and once inside, I drop the duffel bag, lock the door, and let Mel
push the button to close the garage doors. Then I tell Mel that I'm
getting a shower and if she wants to sit in there with me, she's more
than welcome to.

At this point, I
just don't care.

I go in and start
the shower, then undress and slip a plastic bag over my cast.

Mel had plopped
down on the closed toilet lid, and has been watching me this whole
time, her expressions letting me know she's judging every part of my
body. When I turn sideways and her eyes go to my butt, she gasps and
her eyes widen.

"Alright
look, Melody!" I snap in embarrassment and humiliation as I
fumble to get the towel around me quick. "I know I have a big
butt, but
really
?
You don't need to freak out about it!" I tell her with very
little pride left.

"What?
Oh
,
no
!
You don't have a big butt."

Ha. Ha. Right!

"You have
really bad owies all over you, even on your butt! Did your Mother and
Father hit you too?" she asks me with compassion and concern,
laced with deep sadness.

"No,
honey. I don't have a Mother and Father like those people were, I
have a mommy and daddy just like you. They would
never
hurt me." My heart breaks as the realization I may never see my
"mommy and daddy" again, slaps me in the face.

Or my kids and
husband.

I can't stop a sob
from escaping, but I swallow the ones that try to follow.

I can't do this
in front of Mel.

Her eyes still
follow me as I try and figure out how to get inside the tub
one-footed. I'm a little embarrassed and nervous about her intense
observation of my nakedness, but when I feel the hot spray of the
water hit my body, Mel is quickly forgotten―

―
until her
voice echoes in the small bathroom, which makes me jump and slam into
the wall of the shower. I scream out "Son of a bitch!" as
my elbow whacks into the metal shower shelf in the corner that holds
an assortment of body washes and hair products - all of which fly off
the shelf - and with perfect aim, slams into the top of my one good
foot.

I jerk open the
curtain just enough to stick my head out and glare at her.

"Sorry, what
did you say?" I ask her, pissed off and in pain.

"I axed if the
shower feels good. I can hear you moanin'," she tells me.

"Yeah,
it feels great. Can I finish now?" I jerk the curtain shut
before she can answer, and continue getting the conditioner out of my
hair. Something bothers me the entire thirty seconds or so it takes
for me to wash it out. Finally finished with my hair, I'm spreading
facial cleanser on my face when it hits me...
I
never moaned! I've been in this situation before, this shit's not
happening again!

Quickly - and not
at all gently - I wash the cleanser off my face, twist the water
knobs off, and rip the shower curtain almost off its rings. Then I
grab a towel and rub the water off my body a lot harder than I need
to, tear the plastic bag off of my cast, then pull on my new t-shirt
and then my military pants...
at
least, I freaking
try
to!

I forgot to cut
the pant leg so the cast will fit!

Shit, shit,
shit!

I rip open the
cabinet drawers at the same time I ask Mel, in a low and quiet voice,
if she knows where a pair of scissors are.

Excited at being
able to help, she loudly yells, "Yes!" and jumps off the
toilet, heading for the door. I grab her by the back of her shirt and
pull her back against me. Smacking my hand across her mouth, I cut
off her scream.

Leaning
down, I whisper, "Mel,
I
wasn't moaning. It had to have been a zombie. I can't imagine how it
could get inside, but just in case let's stay quiet, ok?" She
nods vigorously. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, honey."

She puts her hand
over my own, which is still across her mouth, and pulls it away.
Whispering too, she says, "It's ok, Aunt Ana. I know you're just
trying to protect me."

Aunt Ana?

Well I have to
say, it's damn sure better than Buffy! In fact, I kinda like it.

I give a small
chuckle and ask, "Ana? Where did you come up with that?"

"It's in your
name already, silly!" she tells me.

I grin at her and
nod. "I love it!" She beams up at me, and I'm just about to
hug her when several loud moans has her throwing herself into my
arms.

The
force of her body slamming into mine shoves me backwards and the sink
counter jabs into my lower back. I ease her away enough for me to
straighten and rub the already sensitive spot...
yeah,
like what part of me isn't?

Mel apologizes over
and over, but I just wave a hand at her, still unable to speak
without swearing like a pissed-off drunken sailor.

That's worse
than my norm, in case you're wondering.

Now that I've heard
the moans myself, I know the zombies are definitely outside. Even
though they can't reach the windows, it's still scary as hell.

I
grab my pants and shove them under my arm, aware of the fact I have
no underwear on either -
But
what the hell am I supposed to do? At least the shirt mostly covers
my bare ass
- and grab my gun from the counter. I tell Mel to stay behind me, as
I slowly open the door.
Sure,
I know the moans came from outside, and I'm fairly certain they can't
get in - but if there's one thing I learned, it's that I should never
assume...well...anything!