***Author's note*** I really do appreciate the kind words in your emails and feedback about this story. I'm sorry that it is not exactly as some of you wish, but I must write what I feel.
I have one more chapter after this, although it will be longer than the usual 10 pages, but it is still a work in progress. There is much going on in my life right now, and I can't always write when I want to.
HMedits is my editor again for this chapter, and I want to thank him again for all of his help. I couldn't do it without you.
Please keep the feedback coming. I,
mostly
enjoy them.
DS
9
I held up there for about a week or so. The pantry was well stocked and so was the liquor cabinet. Mom and Cassio probably had no idea where I was, and I aimed to keep it that way.
It was funny but during that time, I thought a lot about Jennifer. After not thinking about her for a month or more, I was now missing her more each day. I had sex dreams about her and, since I wasn't fucking mom anymore, I jerked off mostly to the image of my wife.
I missed the house or, as I had started to refer to it as, the farm. Canned goods are no replacement for fresh vegetables, eggs and meat. And warm bourbon was no match for a cold beer, especially on a warm summer's day.
I couldn't go back though. I had my pride to think of and Cassio had probably taken my place in mom's bed. Also, I felt a little self-conscious about my equipment. It was the age-old dilemma for a man. Once a woman had experienced sex with an endowed man, why would she want someone who was, let's just say, ordinary?
Every time I thought about mom sexually, I remembered her crying out, "Oh my God Cass, you're huge!" In my mind, she was craving his big dick all of the time. I had images of them fucking constantly while she was crying out how great it was to finally have a huge cock inside her. I couldn't go back.
One night, about ten days after I left, I was sleeping late at night in the master bedroom when Jennifer came to me in a dream. She was wearing a beautiful white dress and she had her hair done up with just a few strands falling down about her face. She was radiant.
"Ed," she said angelically.
"Yeah Jen," I answered her as I tried unsuccessfully to reach out to her.
"You have to go to your mother."
"No Jen I can't." I was annoyed that she would even mention mom.
"Ed, you have to go to her. She is in danger. She needs you." And with that I saw the image of my mother's face struck with terror. I awoke immediately in a cold sweat. It took me a couple of seconds to get my bearings, but then I was on my feet, and getting dressed.
With the mini next to me in the cab, I was barreling down those two lane roads in the middle of the night. I didn't know what time it was, but it was hours before dawn. I started to wonder if I was being crazy, barging in on them because of a silly nightmare.
I found grandma's house and it didn't seem different at all. But then I drove into the driveway and I noticed the lights on in the front of the house. We never put the lights on in the front of the house at night. It would draw too much attention from the road.
I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. I let go of the steering wheel and chambered a round into the mini. With my hands back on the wheel, I skidded up to the front of the house, and I was out of the cab and up onto the porch.
The front door was open. I felt an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I opened the screen and pushed the door totally open with the barrel of my gun. The house was in complete disarray. Furniture was turned over and it looked as if it had been ransacked.
For all appearances, it looked as if a great struggle had occurred here, and I was hoping that I wasn't too late. I walked stealthily through the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. There too, the signs of struggle were all about, and there on the floor was a dead man; a zombie by the looks and smell of him. It seemed that he was missing part of his head.
I backtracked down the hall and made my way to the stairs. I climbed the stairs with my eyes peeled to the landing above. No one was there but there were signs of fighting here too. The small table at the top of the stairs was broken and in pieces on the floor.
I passed the bathroom as I made my way on the second floor and I saw, out of the corner of my eye, was another zombie. He wasn't quite dead, but lay twitching on the floor. He was laying in a puddle of his own blood..
I closed my eyes for a second. I wasn't quite sure what awaited me down the hall in the master bedroom. Zombies didn't scare me, the mini would make short work of them, I was most afraid of what had happened to mom and, in a small way, to Cassio.
I came around the corner of the door slowly. My eyes were panning right and left for any sign, but all I could see was a room upended and empty. I feared that more than her being dead. I didn't want to think about what the zombies would do.
Then I heard a moan. It came from behind the bed. I figured it to be another zombie, and I was prepared to finish the job that Cassio must have started. But when I came around the bed it was Cassio himself, and he wasn't in good shape.
His right arm was twisted like a pretzel and his head was swollen and bleeding.
"Cassio," I hissed as I took a knee beside him. His eyes shot open with fury, and he tried to get up to attack me. "No Cassio, it's me Ed."
His eyes focused on me, and his fury calmed. "Ed, oh fuck, Ed. They took her Ed. They took Josie."
"The zombies took her? Took her where?"
"Six of them Ed. I tried to hold them off, but I ran out of ammo. There were just too many of them. I'm sorry."
"Took her where Ed." Zombies don't drive cars, so I was thinking that she was still close.
"I don't know. They left, and I was too fucked up to see. There's something else Ed."
"What?"
"Pato Azul was with them." The words shot through me like a lightning bolt.
"Pato Azul? How do you know?"
"There was one normal guy with them. A Hispanic guy, and one of the zombies called him by name."
"Did you see a vehicle?"
"Yes. I saw a black minivan drive down the road before the attack."
"Okay," I said. "Let's get you to your feet. I need to get you some help."
"NO. NO." He waved me off with his one good hand. "I'm not going anywhere but to the promised land." And with that he pulled up his shirt and I saw multiple stab marks and an eight inch butcher knife sticking out of his side.