says.
“I’m Sheryl.”
“I live over in the Hillside apartment complex in the west part of town. I ain’t got no kin or nothing, and the buses ain’t running. Do you think you could...”
“No. I’m not taking you there,” she cuts him off. She knows where it is. The woman her husband had an affair with some years ago lives there. A girl, more like it. A secretary in his office, no more than twenty years old, but trash. Sheryl immediately begins to judge Willy, despite him saving her life. She associates anyone from that place with her husband’s fling, with pain. She wouldn’t even let the boys go there to play with friends from school.
“I say somethin’ wrong?” Willy asks, confused.
Sheryl glares at him. “No.”
He’s older than she thought at first glance. Mid 60s. Weathered, white skin crinkles his brow. His bright emerald eyes burn into her mind. He’s fit, and actually quite handsome for a Hillsider, and for an older man.
Sheryl softens. “I have to get home and see if my husband is okay, but I’ll drop you off first,” she says.
But really she doesn’t care about her husband. She hasn’t cared about him since she learned of the affair. That’s why he was so “focused on work.” When she found out he said he would end it. She always wondered if he actually did.
“You know you should cover your mouth with something. Otherwise you might turn into one of them,” she says to Willy.
He eyeballs her up and down, noticing the bandaged arm first. He pulls out a small blade from his pants pocket. Sheryl grips the wheel tight in fear. “Thanks,” he says as he begins to unbutton and remove his custodial uniform shirt, revealing a white wife beater beneath. His eyes never come off her. Hers bounce between his, the road, and the blade. She’s a spitting image of what his daughter would look like today if she were still alive. Sure, she’s attractive, but all he sees is his daughter, especially around the eyes. Half obscured by her mask, they’re transformed in Willy’s mind to be exactly the eyes of his little girl.
“Keep your eyes on the road. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says. He finally unlocks his gaze from her and fixes it instead on the back of his removed shirt, where he begins to cut a length of unsoiled fabric, untouched by blood and gore. Sheryl’s heart sinks back down from her throat to her chest, and she loosens her grip on the wheel. Willy ties the strip of shirt around his head, covering his nose and mouth in front. He returns the blade to his pants pocket.
Sheryl pulls off the road and into town. A few more turns and they’re at Hillside. “Which building is it?” Sheryl asks as they approach the darkened complex. She slows down along the fencing that lines the buildings, coming to a stop.
“Hold on. Keep driving,” Willy warns. They come from everywhere, out of the thick darkness, swarming the car. Before Willy can even finish speaking there’s one pounding on the hood of the car, crawling its way up and trying to claw at them through the windshield. Then another on the driver side window, and another. Sheryl flips on the high beams, fumbling at first to find them in the unfamiliar car. They’re surrounded. The beasts’ yellow eyes glow in the night like animals.
“Hang on!” Sheryl yells as she floors the gas pedal. There are clunks, thuds, snaps and bumps as she mows over the diseased cannibals, crushing them under the car. The one on the windshield hangs on with unearthly strength. She yanks the wheel to the right, finally shaking it off. She starts to turn around, flattening more of them with the rear end of the police cruiser as she circles in reverse. She puts the car in drive and heads back the way she came at top speed. She can see them running, chasing the car in the red glow of tail lights through the rearview mirror.
“I guess you can’t go home just yet,” Sheryl says. A sort of smile ekes out as she considers the fate of the home
“I’m Sheryl.”
“I live over in the Hillside apartment complex in the west part of town. I ain’t got no kin or nothing, and the buses ain’t running. Do you think you could...”
“No. I’m not taking you there,” she cuts him off. She knows where it is. The woman her husband had an affair with some years ago lives there. A girl, more like it. A secretary in his office, no more than twenty years old, but trash. Sheryl immediately begins to judge Willy, despite him saving her life. She associates anyone from that place with her husband’s fling, with pain. She wouldn’t even let the boys go there to play with friends from school.
“I say somethin’ wrong?” Willy asks, confused.
Sheryl glares at him. “No.”
He’s older than she thought at first glance. Mid 60s. Weathered, white skin crinkles his brow. His bright emerald eyes burn into her mind. He’s fit, and actually quite handsome for a Hillsider, and for an older man.
Sheryl softens. “I have to get home and see if my husband is okay, but I’ll drop you off first,” she says.
But really she doesn’t care about her husband. She hasn’t cared about him since she learned of the affair. That’s why he was so “focused on work.” When she found out he said he would end it. She always wondered if he actually did.
“You know you should cover your mouth with something. Otherwise you might turn into one of them,” she says to Willy.
He eyeballs her up and down, noticing the bandaged arm first. He pulls out a small blade from his pants pocket. Sheryl grips the wheel tight in fear. “Thanks,” he says as he begins to unbutton and remove his custodial uniform shirt, revealing a white wife beater beneath. His eyes never come off her. Hers bounce between his, the road, and the blade. She’s a spitting image of what his daughter would look like today if she were still alive. Sure, she’s attractive, but all he sees is his daughter, especially around the eyes. Half obscured by her mask, they’re transformed in Willy’s mind to be exactly the eyes of his little girl.
“Keep your eyes on the road. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says. He finally unlocks his gaze from her and fixes it instead on the back of his removed shirt, where he begins to cut a length of unsoiled fabric, untouched by blood and gore. Sheryl’s heart sinks back down from her throat to her chest, and she loosens her grip on the wheel. Willy ties the strip of shirt around his head, covering his nose and mouth in front. He returns the blade to his pants pocket.
Sheryl pulls off the road and into town. A few more turns and they’re at Hillside. “Which building is it?” Sheryl asks as they approach the darkened complex. She slows down along the fencing that lines the buildings, coming to a stop.
“Hold on. Keep driving,” Willy warns. They come from everywhere, out of the thick darkness, swarming the car. Before Willy can even finish speaking there’s one pounding on the hood of the car, crawling its way up and trying to claw at them through the windshield. Then another on the driver side window, and another. Sheryl flips on the high beams, fumbling at first to find them in the unfamiliar car. They’re surrounded. The beasts’ yellow eyes glow in the night like animals.
“Hang on!” Sheryl yells as she floors the gas pedal. There are clunks, thuds, snaps and bumps as she mows over the diseased cannibals, crushing them under the car. The one on the windshield hangs on with unearthly strength. She yanks the wheel to the right, finally shaking it off. She starts to turn around, flattening more of them with the rear end of the police cruiser as she circles in reverse. She puts the car in drive and heads back the way she came at top speed. She can see them running, chasing the car in the red glow of tail lights through the rearview mirror.
“I guess you can’t go home just yet,” Sheryl says. A sort of smile ekes out as she considers the fate of the home
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