May 20, 2019 - 10:39 PM

Leo Kelly

“What was that?” I asked, stopping as we passed by the last door in the small hallway.

I could’ve sworn I heard a scratching sound, but it might’ve just been my imagination. Adrenaline had been running wild in my body since we left the house. And I practically jumped at everything so far.

“What was what?” Eury breathily said. She sounded okay despite her heavy breathing. Was she going to be okay?

“I think that—” I began to whisper, as I leaned my head beyond the corner.

Although the living room was partially lit by the moonlight coming through the large windows, it was mostly dark. Shrouded in the kind of impenetrable darkness my eyes had to struggle with for a while, adjusting to the low light to see anything. So, it took me a moment before I saw that in the corner of the living room, a figure was hunched over like they were violently heaving. But they made no sound. As if sensing my movement, the figure turned. It was an old woman. Curlers. And the moment her weeping eyes locked onto me, a jolt of panic shot up my spine.

Fuck!

Fuck fuck fuck!

She’s not supposed to be here!

Without even thinking, I dropped my end of the wagon. The metal frame clanged hard on the ground—probably loud enough to attract the whole neighbourhood—but it didn’t matter. At that moment, I had a much more pressing issue. And it was staring at me like I was a roast beef sandwich. I unsheathed Sheila and prepared for what came next.

The old woman let out an ear-piercing shriek as she broke into a sprint towards me. Her first few steps slipped in all the vomit and everything else that covered the ground, which gave me the extra second I needed to think.

“Eury, run!” I called back to her, “I’ll distract her, just go!”

Even though every fibre of my being felt as heavy as lead, I dragged out a step towards the woman. Then the next, then another. Fighting through the nerves tangled up in my legs.

I managed to raise my sword when I met Curlers beside the dining room table, and in that single moment, I thanked my past self for all of those idle samurai daydreams. I swiped down at the woman’s outstretched arm, connecting just above her elbow. The blade bit into her fleshy arm, then shuddered to a stop when it hit bone.

“Oh come the fuck on!” I said. I expected to chop her arm with a single strike.

The old woman barely even reacted to the fact I turned her arm into a knife block. Just continued to lumber forward, still focused on gnawing my face off.

I tried to yank Sheila from her arm, but I ended up letting it go when the old woman lunged for me. I staggered a few steps back while the old woman grabbed the blade, ripped it out, and tossed the sword over the recliner and under the coffee table.

That just might be the most metal thing I’ve seen in my life.

I considered just running out of there and call it a night, but Eury was stuck in here too. So, even though I was weaponless, I grabbed the woman by the scruff of her puke-covered nighty and launched her onto the thick, oak dining table. But she had managed to grab me with a surprising amount of force, so I went along with her.

Up close and on top of her, the old woman hissed and screeched at me like a wild animal while I held her down. Her face was swollen and purple. Not bruised. No, it looked worse. It was like her face was a balloon, skin stretched to the limit, filled to the brim with blood turning rancid. I gagged a few times when her rotten breath wafted onto my face. So, I fought the animal fear that told me to run and channelled the flight to fight, punching her putrid purple face. The strike connected, but it was like my punch was just a pillow that slammed into a brick wall.

She ripped at my jacket, knocking my locked out elbow loose. I grabbed at the woman’s shoulder again, but she reacted like a wild dog. Biting and snapping at my hand. I punched her again, and again, anything to get her to stop.

Is her jaw made of titanium or something?

I could’ve been Muhammad Ali and still couldn’t knock her out, so my self-preservation kicked into an even higher gear. I had to get away from this thing yet still keep her away from Eury. I pushed off of the table, breaking her grip on me and landing on the floor. Without missing a second, the woman had rolled over herself and pounced on me, pinning me to the ground. Without hesitating, I launched another punch at her ugly mug. This time, I felt something crack inside my hand.

“Oooh hhhhm!” I pursed my lips like a lemonade had punched my face.

“Elbow!” From somewhere inside the dark garage, Eury called out to me. “Elbow! Elbow!” She repeated with a little more emphasis.

Elbow? What the hell is she… Oh!

I swung my elbow as hard as I could at the side of the woman’s head. The strike seemed to do the trick as the woman—who seemed stunned by my attack—fell off to the side, giving me enough time to get back to my feet.

“Where is that fucking thing!” Eury’s voice was drowned out by the sound of several boxes collapsing.

“Eury get the hell out of here!” I hissed in the direction of the garage.

As Curlers scrambled to her feet, I looked around for a weapon. Although the chairs were solid wood, they looked too unwieldy to use and last time I checked, this wasn’t the WWE. My best option was probably still Sheila. Or the gun.

“Eury! The gun!” I hissed again.

Nothing. Just more boxes overturned in the garage.

As Curlers clumsily got to her feet, I started around the long way to get to Sheila. Getting closer to the front window, the stench of excrement—vomit and shit—was overpowering. Just as the dark black of the open garage door came into view, another loud crash came from it. Curlers, now on her feet, snapped her attention to the sound.

Shit, shit, shit!

“Hey! Over here, you ugly old bag!” I said. I couldn’t risk her going after Eury. This was my only option.

Curlers, incensed by my yelling, turned to face me and did something that I never thought I’d see an old woman do.

In the short run-up she had, she broke into a sprint, even though I had the table between me and her. The table, which I honestly thought she was going to run into when instead, she dove at the table, planting both hands followed by both feet on the wood surface, then like a tiger with its prey in reach, she launched herself at me.

Well, fuck me ragged.

The shock—and mostly surprise—rendered me completely still, allowing Curlers to barrel into me. I snapped out of it the moment my head hit the ground. The ringing in my ears deafened me to the snarling Curlers on top of me. Again. I struggled. Squirmed, but the old woman was sheer unpredictability and relentlessness.

I couldn’t end this barehanded, and there was no way I could get a weapon. In other words, I was screwed. At this moment, the best ending I could hope for was the one where Eury got out alive, and… And I guess that was good enough.

Here ends the Ballad of Leo Kelly—mauled to death by a rabid old lady.

I could only hope I paid back in full for what I did.

My arms were burning with exhaustion, legs even more tired. I was getting so spent that I just wanted to scream and I couldn’t even do that. It was as I was practically waiting to give up when I heard the sound of footsteps running on the hardwood.

Finally, just get to safety already, Eury. Dying is tough work, you know?

Once the footsteps stopped, I just assumed Eury left so let my arms finally give out. Curler’s dripping wet, swollen maw fell down on me almost in slow motion.

Thunk!

Then the diseased-looking mouth stopped coming towards me. I looked to my left and saw what my savior was: a sharpened broomstick handle, driven through the soft fleshy woman, planted in the ground an inch above my shoulder at a sharp angle.

“Move!” Eury whispered as loudly as she could at me.

For the third time that night, I got away from the snarling woman. This time though, she wouldn’t be coming after me.

She immediately proved me wrong. Falling onto her shoulder, the spear was pushed back out of her a little. The exhausted sounding Eury stumbled back from the old lady, the look of shock on her face matched mine.

“What the fuck is this going to take?” I asked, exasperated. Then it occurred to me.“Sheila!” While the woman stumbled to her feet, Eury looked on in horror.

“She’s crying. She’s… She’s in pain.” Her voice sounded so empty, so hollow.

“Get away from her!” I whispered back to her.

I had to find Sheila. Fast. I jumped over the couch separating the dining room from the living room. I knew it was somewhere around here. And once I found it I could put her out of her—

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

I whipped my head around in horror. Eury stood over Curlers’ body, emotionless and still, with a bloody wrought iron fire poker in hand. Dark murky blood leaked from the gnarly gash over the woman’s silver hair.

I grabbed Sheila from where she slid under the coffee table, swiftly returned to Eury’s side, and led her to the garage hallway. Without much prompting, she dropped the fire poker in the wagon’s thick metal bottom. It landed with a twang, but she didn’t so much as flinch while I did. I looked at her but there wasn’t anything on her face. No sadness. No worry. Just nothing.

Unlocking the front door, we cautiously made our way back across the street. But, this time, something was different. Maybe it was because we successfully defended ourselves; not that I could do it again so soon. Or maybe after leaving Alaska’s, I was so worried about our first encounter with them, but just like that, all that anticipation and worry shaken up inside was now cracked open. Just kind of fizzled out. It wasn’t like it was not as bad as I assumed it would be—if anything, it was significantly worse—really, I couldn’t help but feel like some sort of innocence was now gone. After all, we’ve done the one thing I hoped to never do. I guess beyond that there wasn’t much else that I could worry about.

The moment we got back to Alaska’s, Eury placed her end of the wagon down and walked past me, whispering something just before she broke into a run towards the stairs.

“Sorry.”

A single word that hit me worse than my throbbing hand. After a few moments of nothing, I walked over to the pantry.

I found a roll of paper towels and carefully got to work cleaning the wagon by the moonlight. The work was slow. Boring. Repetitive. So much so, I almost nodded off several times, but I couldn’t. I was locked into this moment, this feeling, and that’s why I worked. I couldn’t help but feel like trying to lay down now would be useless.

It was sunrise when my body was finally exhausted. I had painstakingly cleaned every drop of blood from not only the wagon but Sheila and Eury’s poker as well. After that, I organized all of the non-perishable food and jugs of water that we’d be bringing with us. Once we got that huge tank into the cart, we’d be able to pack it up. But that’s work for after I’ve gotten some shut-eye.

I walked up the stairs, heading for Alaska’s room which I took for myself. As I approached Eury’s door, I held my hand back from knocking. Through the thin door, I heard exactly what I was hoping to avoid ever hearing again.

The quiet sounds of Eury sobbing.

May 21, 2019 - 5:32 AM