small cubby to the right. I picked it up and smiled, only guessing at what it would do. I glanced out the large window, now partly boarded up, and did not see anything out of the ordinary. Well, other than the dozen or so dead stumbling around my line of sight.
As I turned to walk towards the bedroom, my eyes fell on my baby’s cane leaning against the wall. Its black shaft gleamed in the sunlight, and the steel dragon that adorned it, and served as its handle, shone brightly. I took a few steps towards it, and gingerly picked it up. Memories of me and my beloved flooded my mind, and I felt a lump in my throat. I twisted the handle, and smiled at the sound as the almost two foot blade slid smoothly from the shaft. Splatters of blood covered the blade, and I could just imagine Crystal using it to dispatch some intruder, or to slay some brainless monster hell-bent on hurting the family. I slid it back into the cane with a soft thud, and then continued into the bedroom.
With the keys in hand, I knew instantly where I needed to go. I crossed the room and threw open our closet door. Clothes still hung in the closet, so thick you couldn’t see into it, and almost too thick to even get into it. I reached in and wrapped my arms around a large section of the hanging garments, and ripped them out, the bar they were hanging on coming loose and falling to the floor. I began to dig into it with renewed fervor, flinging clothes behind me like a dog digging in the dirt.
Finally the closet was cleared out, and I laughed at the sight. Attached to the floor of our closet was a white chest that had been there forever. While it had always had a lock on it, I saw that now there were two. Sitting behind it, leaning against the wall in a small space between the two, was a ball bat and a machete. I snatched both up and once more smiled. The machete was razor sharp, and brand new. My baby knew me well. The bat, on the other hand, I recognized as the handiwork of Christopher and Seth. Large nails had been driven into it, creating a spiked mace with great heft. I sat them on the floor beside me, and turned back to the chest.
When finally opened, I took a deep breath and looked inside. A half dozen bottles of liquor were lined up on one side, rags stuffed into them. A Zippo and a small bottle of lighter fluid sat with them. A handful of knives littered the chest, including a set of throwing knives she had gotten me a long time ago, all sitting on top of two bundles covered with fabric. Both were tied up tight with multiple lengths of twine. I lifted the first out, and began to unwrap it gingerly.
There was, to my surprise, a rather large pistol in the wrapping. It was a .44, and I only knew that because of the full box of ammunition that was wrapped up with it. I turned it over in my hands, and knew then what the small key was for. There was a trigger lock on the pistol, and I unlocked it, throwing the lock aside. I sat the pistol down beside the ammo, then reached back in the chest and grabbed the other bundle.
It was longer than the other, and thinner. I pulled the wrapping off of it, and I almost panicked when I saw what it was. How, or where, my baby found this I did not know, but there it was, in all its crimson glory, setting on my lap and making me nervous. Three sticks of dynamite now lay on my crossed legs, and I could do nothing but stare. I picked them up, moving them slowly and carefully, and sat them beside me. I breathed a little easier once they were not sitting on me, and turned once more to the chest.
Sitting at the bottom was another note. I picked it up and unfolded it, seeing my Crystal’s lilting handwriting one again. The note was simple, nothing more than two short lines: “You missed something. Look again.” I reached back, and after I had taken everything out of the chest, I still found nothing other than the objects I had already discovered. Shaking my head and throwing one hand up in exasperation, I started to