Chapter 34- Firelight Repose

"What do we do?" Tracy's voice had a hint of panic that seemed to go beyond yellow eyed monsters and having her car stolen. Through the trees I could see the hint of yellow flame like a wall of light moving toward us. It wasn't fast, but it was advancing steadily, and at the rate it seemed to be increasing I knew getting out on foot was not an option. "Back door!" I called out and we raced toward the rear of the home. I hopped up the steps and leapt onto the landing, pulling open the screen door quickly. Giving the door a kick I could tell it was just as solid as the front, and I aimed my shotgun at the handle. BLAM! Tracy shuddered and covered her ears as the shrapnel tore through the wood of the door, leaving a gaping hole the size of a cantaloupe. Nudging the door it swung open with ease, and I stepped into the dark house. Tracy stayed back, looking from the door to the forest. "Come on!" I urged her, and she stepped up with trepidation. "Remember I only have one round." She said nervously. I nodded and looked around the room, trying to figure out the layout. It was similar to the other houses in the neighborhood but still different enough that we'd need to wander a bit to find what we needed. "Hopefully we can just locate the garage, grab a car and get out of here." I looked left and right quickly but cautiously, moving into a hallway. Finding a door where I estimated the garage would be, I turning the handle to reveal a white SUV parked next to a set of ATVs. Slapping the garage door opener and looking back at Tracy in the kitchen I called out "We need to find keys."

We searched the counter and cupboards for any sign of keys. There were cabinets filled with antique china and plastic cups, cereal and snacks, but no baskets or hooks where keys seemed to be laid. "What about the entryway?" Tracy asked. It was worth a shot. I moved cautiously into the hall, glancing through the living room to the front window. The fire was getting closer to the tree line and it's flickering light began illuminating the inside of the house. The hallway table had no keys, and at first glance the body laying in the hall didn't appear to have any pockets. I rolled it over carefully with my foot, checking his hands. He was old, probably in his late 70's. I watched his chest but could not see any sign of breathing. His face was jagged and torn, and I could see bite marks in his neck. His pajamas smelled as though whatever attacked him caused him to soil himself before dying. The smell made me gag, and I grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and covered the body. Moving back to the kitchen I saw Tracy waiting expectantly. "No luck." I said. "And the fire is getting closer." Tracy looked increasingly nervous. "I looked in the car and around the garage," she said. "But I couldn't find any keys." Suddenly a thump directed our attention to the ceiling. Something or someone was upstairs. Raising my shotgun I slowly moved back into the hall, eyes keenly focused on the upstairs landing. I stepped slowly over the body covered by the blanket on the hallway floor, my feet grazing its stomach as I lifted my leg over. Tracy stood back, unwilling to walk past the covered body. "Its okay." I reassured her. I gave it a hard kick in the back and she gasped a bit but relaxed when she saw it didn't move. "You don't need to worry about him." I said, keeping my attention upstairs. Tracy walked around the body nervously, keeping her gun pointed at the blanket.

We heard another thump this time followed by a dragging sound, like someone had pulled blankets off a bed and was using them to drag something heavy across the floor. I took a few steps up the stairs and paused, waiting, watching. Tracy glanced across the living room at the window. "Whatever we're gonna do here we gotta hurry..." I took a few more steps upstairs, my gun moving as I rounded the corner.

The upstairs hallway was dark, and with all the doors closed I couldn't see anything but the silver cracks of light underneath each door. On the left a shadow crossed one of these cracks. If this home had the same layout as the last, the master bedroom would be on the right, a more logical location for keys, and I could be in and out without disturbing whatever was inside that room. I walked to the end of the hall and slowly turned the handle. The door opened quietly into a large dark room with a four post bed and matching dresser. The blinds on the nearby window were closed, and firelight flickered through the cracks, revealing a shape in the bed, like a body sleeping. "Hello?" I whispered. I moved slowly closer but couldn't make out who it was. I could tell they lay on their back, as though staring at the ceiling but couldn't determine whether they were alive or dead. I reached for my flashlight but it was missing. Keeping my eyes on the bed I moved to the dresser and saw the shape of a small basket on top. Inside I found a wallet, watch, a wedding ring and a pocketknife but no keys. I glanced back but the body on the bed hadn't moved. Rifling quietly through the top drawer, I looked for any sign of car keys, but only found piles of old underwear, tube socks, and an unloaded WW2 pistol. Looking around the room I couldn't see any logical place to keep keys, and began to get very worried.

I walked over to the window to the right of the bed and pulled the cord to the venetian blinds. The familiar zipping sound revealed the forest covered in a wall of flame, hundreds of feet high and equally wide. The heat radiating through the window brought a feeling of impending dread to the magnificent display. I knew had to hurry, it was only a matter of time before the flames leapt onto the house, if they hadn't already. Looking back at the bed I could see that the shape was an old woman, laying silently. She was still breathing, but as the firelight danced across her wrinkled face, I could see a blank expression with yellow eyes staring emotionless at the ceiling. I felt a wave of sadness in my heart. What had this woman done to deserve such a fate. She reminded me of my own mother, who's fate was certain yet unknown to me. The woman seemed frozen in time and though I knew what she would become I had no desire to disturb her. As I moved to leave I felt something under my feet. Looking down I could see something on the floor. It was a pair of pants. My heart leapt as I imagined the old man removing his trousers before climbing into bed with his sweet wife. I picked them up and felt the heavy rattle of something in the front right pocket. Keys!

I clasped them in my hands triumphantly and took one last glance outside. In horror I watched as a large tree began to tip, it's fiery branches looming toward the house. The distant crack of splintering wood echoed in the tumult and I saw the tree falling right toward my window. I dove toward the hallway door as the flaming branches tore through the roof and lit the room on fire. The woman, impaled by a charred branch the size of my leg, sat up and screamed.  Her eyes looked blankly at the wall, her gums swollen and bloody.  She scratched at the branch desperately, not trying to remove it from her body, but trying to escape.  The flames from the branches caught the sheets and pillows on fire and she screamed louder, reaching her claws out into the air.  There was something bestial and primal about the way she struggled, like an animal that was caught but didn't understand why.  I backed out slowly and turned down the hall, only to see the door to my right was now open.  I hesitated for a moment  and then dashed past it and down the stairs.

Around the corner I ran, into the kitchen.  "Tracy!" I called out.  "I have the keys!  Tracy!  Where are you?" I moved quickly out into the garage as I heard the floor above the kitchen starting to crumble.  Inside the garage Tracy knelt on the top of the SUV, the woman from earlier clawing at her, trying to climb up.  She snarled and sputtered, infuriated that she couldn't reach Tracy but unable to understand the mechanics of how to use various surrounding objects to her advantage.  Tracy looked up at me in horror and relief, and I yelled at the woman before pointing my shotgun.  BLAM! The first hit knocked her backward, tearing through her torso with shuddering force.  Tracy clapped her hands over her ears and squinted her eyes shut, backing up to avoid the second shot.  BLAM! I fired again, throwing her further backward into the driveway.  She attempted to stand up again but her legs no longer responded, so she began to crawl toward me as her husband had done earlier.  This time I was ready.  BLAM! This shot hit its mark, and I turned my head from the grisly scene.  I reached up and helped Tracy down from the roof, her eyes wet with tears and filled with fear.  All around us the house was crumbling, and we could see fire raging in the grass and in the trees.  I opened the driver's door and Tracy climbed over into the passenger seat.  I started the car, glanced at the fuel gauge, and put it into drive.

The engine roared as I tore out of the garage, and I looked in the side mirror to see most of the house engulfed in flames.  "Look!" Tracy called out, and we saw the shape of the old woman dive out of an upstairs window.  With a sickening splat she hit the ground, but almost immediately stood back up.  With a limp she began walking in our direction, reaching toward us, one half of her body burnt to a blackened crisp and the other half still on fire.  "She's hurt, is she..." I knew Tracy hadn't seen what I had seen, and I shook my head.  "No, she's gone.  She's one of them."  I wondered where my mother was.  I would probably never know.  I closed my eyes to stop the tears and hoped she was buried back in that shallow grave.