Timothy 02: Tim2 (15 page)

“How close am I, baby? Can you smell me yet? If you put on any sort of scent within the last few hours, I’ll be able to smell you soon. Maybe a little lotion on your drying hands perhaps? Peanut butter odor carries a bit, won’t be long before I pick that scent up. I can’t imagine the terror you’re feeling. I mean you probably have thought about what you’d do, but when you’re actually faced with it, I bet it’s debilitating. Your mind is racing…do I haul ass, or stay hidden? But it probably feels like you’ve swallowed live frogs. Am I right? Got a big croaker stuck in your neck I bet, and then your stomach is probably doing back flips. I almost feel sorry for you. I’m not even going to offer you false hope. You know the kind, ‘If you come out now I’ll go easy on you.’ Know why? Because it would be a fucking lie.” I sent a crate of green strawberries crashing to the ground.

“I’m going to stomp your fucking head into the ground, maybe before I eat your insides, maybe after, I haven’t decided. You can’t just go making promises and then breaking them. There’re consequences to be paid. And I demand interest. A lot of it.”

The bitch was good. I thought for sure she would have made a break for it by now, unless I was too close for her or she was just damn paralyzed – that was a distinct possibility.

“Hey, I just thought of something. I bet you have a gun on you, am I right? Probably waving that thing back and forth right now hoping I’ll come into view so you can shoot me. Oh, wouldn’t that be so satisfying for you! You know what, though? You’ll have to drill me square in the forehead to stop me, and even with Clarence’s giant old melon, that’s not an easy shot, Charlene. And once I see the flash of that muzzle…I’ve got your location. Gosh, I’m having so much fun. This is better than naked
Twister
with the nuns at Our Lady of Perpetual Sin.”

I stopped when I heard shooting outside. It seemed that all the noise Vince was making tearing the joint up had attracted some unwanted attention. That didn’t make any sense. There was nobody on the roof to be doing any shooting. Was it coming from the street?

“Oh, my sweet amore. It appears we will have to continue our game later.”

I moved swiftly to the double doors and out. It didn’t take long to figure out what happened. Vince had caved quicker than even I had figured. He was looking for a fix, and right now I was fairly convinced he’d blow a zombie if he thought it would get him product quicker.

There was a hot little number staring out the window watching him leave. Most likely debating if she should go and retrieve him. She looked like a fat, gun-lover’s wet dream. She was silhouetted against the light coming in from the window. She had long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, camo pants with black boots, a form-fitting green t-shirt that showed her muscular body and on her hip rested an assault weapon. I’m no expert, but I’d say some sort of Russian-made model.

I wasn’t necessarily a gun nut, but she stirred something deep in me. She was beautiful malevolence; I bet if I bit her she would have the strength to fight off the Hugh virus. Now, if I could just get close enough to test out my theory. I don’t know if she could sense something, but she spun quickly and almost caught sight of me gawking at her. I ducked down and waited until her gaze passed over. Something fell over in the storeroom behind me. It appeared the game was afoot…again. Good, because I was working up an appetite.

The woman at the front of the store looked around once more, spending a fair amount of time looking at the hallway to my feeding station, then she headed towards a door I was fairly certain led to the roof. I guess to keep an eye on Vince as he retreated into the shadows of humanity. Fuck him, junkies probably tasted like shit anyway.

I pretty much had the run of the entire store. I couldn’t have been happier than a six year old getting locked in Toys
R Us for the night. At least of course until he got to the doll aisle and there were stuffed clowns, then all bets were off. I got up to the wall next to the doors and pressed as far into it as my massive bulk was going to allow. I could hear the tentative shuffle of feet that were unsure of their destination. The one thing I knew was that she would want to get out of the dark…and quick; somewhere where the odds, while not necessarily in her favor, would at least be improved upon. The closer she got to the doors the…slower she moved. The trepidation was almost coming off her in sheets. Who could blame her? Certainly not me.

“Come on, my little sugary treat. Just a little further,” I said so softly I would imagine God didn’t even hear it.

The door cracked open. I was so excited I sprouted wood.
Strange reaction
, I thought. Was that Hugh’s way of showing he was happy? Like instead of wagging his tail, he got a hard-on.
Right there with you, buddy
, I told him. The door closest to me moved a bit further, the blued steel of a pistol poked its way through. I was thankful the piece of shit, small pieces of clear plastic they called windows were scratched up and so dirty as to be nearly opaque. I could tell Charlene had her face pressed up to the small piece of Plexiglas, desperately looking for me. Why she never thought to look to her left was a mystery. To me, it just meant she wanted to get caught, that she somehow wanted to fulfill her obligation to me. That made more sense than her not looking unless she just couldn’t see me and then the fucking joke was on her.

The gun was now almost all the way out the door, if she pushed the door even just another inch there would be no way she could avoid seeing me unless she had a brain tumor that was causing her to have giant blind spots. I moved quickly to the door and pushed it heavily inwards. I heard something snap as the doors came together. The gun fell to the floor and Charlene, I believe, fell to the ground
in response. I quickly moved through the doors and towards her scurrying form.

“Where you going, darling?” I said as I grabbed her kicking foot. She kept kicking until I twisted it into an unnatural angle. “A little further and you’re going to have an ankle to match that wrist.” I told her. Her right wrist was already beginning to swell and develop serious blue overtones.  “Are you in shock or something? I can’t figure out why you’re not screaming.”

“Would it do any good?” she asked in reply.

“Not really, not at all. The only person that could potentially help you is now on the roof. It’s just you and me, Flap Jacks.”

She sagged as if she was a hot air balloon and someone had let all the air out.

“Don’t be depressed, honey, we’re together now. It’ll be alright for me.”

I swung her around and we headed deeper into the storeroom.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“I figured it’d be better in the dark for you, that way you couldn’t see what was coming.”

“Please, I don’t want to die like this.” She was sobbing.

“I hate to break it to you, Charlene, but there really isn’t a good way to go out of this world. I guess there are those rare occasions you get to be surrounded by loved ones when you take that final ragged breath, but that’s really about it. You all end up in the same place. Dead is dead. Now it’s those last few minutes of life that can have very vast differences. And I’m sorry to say, but yours is really going to suck. I mean, we might not break any records for worst death, but then it’s really all subjective anyway…and who the fuck are we going to find that can be an impartial judge anyway?”

I kept dragging her, she weakly grabbed hold of an empty pallet which we took for a small ride before it ripped the fingernail of her left hand pointer finger clear off.

“Bet that hurt,” I said in my most sympathetic tone. I went a few feet further then dropped her leg…well, more like flung it to the floor. She winced as it smashed against the cement. She was looking around blindly for me and pulled her legs in tight.

“Strip,” I told her.

She didn’t move.

“Was I not clear? Here I’ll make it absolutely easy for you. TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!” I shook from the force of expelling the words.

Her hand moved up to the front of her blouse; she pulled the t-shirt over her head. This was something else I didn’t understand about victims. Why comply? Why do what I say at all? The end result is going to be the exact same – die trying. I guess some people just don’t have fight in them. I wondered for a moment if that was a modern condition, or had there been push-overs since the dawn of man? Did Ugg the caveman force Ula to prepare some dinosaur meat before he banged her over the head with a club? Probably, bitches have been stupid since Eve ate that bad apple.

“Wait…now I’m confused. Which happened first? The Garden of Eden or cave people?”

“Wha...what?” Charlene asked.

“I wasn’t talking to you, get your damn pants off.”

She kept complying as I pondered my own question. She was shivering with her ass pressing against the cool concrete.

“When did I say stop?” I asked as I looked at her socks, bra and panties. “Oh for God’s sake!” I grabbed the front of her bra and picked her clean up off the floor by it. “Damn, girl, that’s some strong ass support, not that you really need it, can’t be much more than a B-cup.” The bra finally snapped and Charlene thudded to the floor. “You’re really fucking up my food, Char.”

She was incoherent. I think I’d finally pushed her over the edge. There didn’t seem much more point in fucking with her if she wasn’t going to get the same enjoyment out of it as I was. She had both hands over her delicate feminine parts.

“Oh, you’ve got this wrong, sister, I don’t want your body in the traditional sense. Well…I mean the traditional conquest-ual way, you know, rape and pillage and all that.” I gave Hugh a little work to do as Charlene’s screams burst my ear drum. I bit through the right side of her face and into her eyeball. “That’s just like a Tootsie pop,” I said as I leaned back and chomped through it. I ripped her throat out once I finished the eye. The silence was a welcome guest.

“I told you we’d have fun together,” I said as I licked her candy-coated esophagus. “Who knew that would be so good?”

I took my time with Charlene – possibly an hour, maybe more. It was nice to not have to eat and run for once. By the time I was done, Hugh felt the need to get rid of some added weight.

“Wait, fucker!” I yelled, although he was about as close as one could get. “I want to make a statement with this.”

I undid my pants and straddled over what remained of my sweet Charlene. Twenty minutes later it would have been impossible to tell there was a body under there without an archaeological dig.

I was content for one of the few times in my life. Although I knew that wasn’t going to last long with Hugh. He was as easy to keep satisfied as a five-year-old with ADD. I glanced quickly out of the door, making sure no one was going to waylay me like I had Charlene. When the coast was clear, I walked out. My thought process was that I would finish off the two I had in storage and get going. She-Commando, besides looking like she could inflict some damage to me, didn’t appear to have a vast quantity of meat on her to warrant the chance it would take to catch her.

With that thought in mind, I headed back to the break room. I was twenty feet away when I stopped. I looked around quickly and then ducked into an aisle. I had almost been happy enough to whistle when I saw it. It was no bigger than a flea on a tick (gross exaggeration), but there it was, blazing like a light house, sending a beacon of light and warning of the dangers to come. A sliver of duct tape lay on the floor. I was certain it hadn’t been there when I left. That meant a couple of things. Either my food had escaped or She-Commando had set my food free. Either way I was pissed.

“Shit.”

I ducked further down. If they were out, the tables had been turned. Well, not completely. I was fairly certain they weren’t going to eat me, they were going to try and kill me, though, that was a fairly easy intuitive leap.

“You out there, clown?” a female voice asked. Wherever she was, she had the advantage of height on me. “You’re going to have to pay for the things you’ve done here.”

She said it with such determination and verve that I did not doubt she would follow through if given the opportunity. I wanted to shout back, and I’m sure she was baiting me into it, but to do so would have given them a chance to locate me.

“What kind of sick fuck eats people anyway? I mean, I guess I get it when your plane is stuck on the top of the Andes and it’s dead Javier or a seat cushion. But you’re in a grocery store, there’s enough food in here for months. My guess is you’ve always been a sick fuck, probably the kind that skinned cats when you were seven and then moved up to little boys when you hit your teens. Am I right?” she asked.

I was moving
slowly trying to locate from where she was yelling. I had to be careful about the other two. Maybe not the woman, I was fairly certain I had cracked her skull, she was going to be out of commission for a while. I wiped a bit of drool as I thought about what lay under her head armor.

Concentrate, Tim
, I had to tell myself.

“Hey, freak, talk to me!” she shouted.

It was that last sentence that helped me finally locate her. Not sure how I had missed it, off to the left of the entrance there was door that led to a small office that overlooked the registers. It was either the manager or security. This seemed more like a mom and pop store, so most likely it was the owner’s get away when his old lady was driving him nuts about not charging enough for the kumquats.