Been sick for a couple weeks now, but I promise to get to all the stories I haven't read yet!
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Delivery Girl
It was a dark and stormy night and I certainly, absolutely did not want to be here. Rain slashed my windshield while lightning tormented the sky above, and at the same time the wheels of my old, beat up, battered car kept refusing to grip the road. I was all over the place. I knew I shouldn't under these circumstances but I grabbed the banana sitting on the seat next to me and peeled it with jerking motions. The only supper I'd most likely be getting into my poor stomach tonight.
“Last supper, Sara,” I said out loud.
I almost lost it on the road, but heck, I'd be lucky if I lived through the next hour or so anyway, what with the task I had looming ahead of me.
The long gravel driveway reared in front of me, my headlights barely picking out the entrance that would lead me to my doom. I pulled up to the large, dilapidated old house, feeble lights giving nothing but pinpricks of illumination.
A huge sigh escaped my lips as I pulled up to the front. I glanced into my rear view mirror and was dismayed at how I looked. Mascara ringed my blue eyes and my long, straight blonde hair hung in straggles, some strands sticking to my cheeks. Reaching into the glove box I pulled out a pack of wipes and began to wash my face, then dug into my purse and found my makeup. I reapplied my mascara, eyeshadow and lipstick, ran a comb through my hair, although nothing would help the white face staring back at me.
Something caught my eye and I turned the mirror down a bit. Green skin! The necklace Mark had given me had turned my neck green! Cheap bastard! I jerked the offending jewelry off, rolled my window down and threw it out into the mud.
I opened the door and got out of my car. I slammed the door shut then walked to the back of the car to unlock the trunk. I grabbed the box of food in both arms and hauled it out. Shutting the trunk was an acrobatic feat.
The house stood there, uninviting, but what was one to expect of the habitants inside. I trudged up to it, with the rain sluicing down and plastering my hair to my skin once again. I could feel my mascara running. I knew I'd look like the undead. A shiver ran down my spine, not in a nice tingling way either, but in the way you know someone has walked on your grave.
Up the rickety steps I went, hoping I didn't fall through and break something, mainly my body appendages, since I didn't much care about the food in the box. My foot kicked the door since my hands were full. Silence greeted me.
“Mr. Connell! It's Sara, from town, with your groceries.”
If no one answered I could leave the box on the porch and hightail it back to town and at least live through this night. I heard thumping footsteps coming. A sigh escaped my lips. No such luck for me tonight.
The door opened, then all I saw was the back of Mr. Connell. I followed him reluctantly into the kitchen, more by sound than sight, as all that lite up the inside was a few candles here and there. I put the box on the table and hoped to make my retreat.
“Did you bring my whiskey?” his voice rasped at me.
“I don't know, Mr. Connell, I didn't pack it, Joe did, but I'm sure whatever you asked for he put it in.”
“It better be in there.” He began to haul items out of the box, slamming each one down on the scarred table.
I didn't want to think about what had made those deep cuts in the wood of the surface. All I wanted to think about was getting back to town alive.
“Know what they wanted to do to me?” His voice boomed as it scratched my stretched nerves.
All I could do was shake my head, even though he wasn't looking at me.
They wanted to hook some wires up to my head and scramble my brains. I know what happens when they do stuff like that. I heard about it.”
“Mr. Connell, they just wanted to do an encephalogram. That's nothing. They do it all the time.”
“That what they tell you, girl?” He looked up at me, his bloodshot eyes bore into mine. “They experiment on your brain and it gets scrambled, then they putrefy it.”
I nodded agreement. No way was I going to argue with the man, not if it got me out of there faster, even if I didn't understand the putrefy thing. The man's brain was already scrambled.
A shuffling sound brought my head around and my eyes flew to the doorway. My stomach clenched as I saw Mr. Connell's daughter coming towards us. Sally Ann, the town zombie. And her pet aardvark. She had the stupid thing on a leash.
Mr. Connell wouldn't be any help. I backed up and my eyes saw something glint on the counter. A butcher knife. I grabbed it, threw it. It landed in the middle of her forehead. She stopped, but didn't go down, only stared at me.
I couldn't get past her and her pet so I grabbed a chair and tossed it at the only window in the kitchen and forced my body to follow it. I rolled in mud a ways before I could get my feet under me, then slipped and slid towards my car.
Sara the Zombie Slayer I wasn't, but I was alive. I felt good I had survived, so good I was ready to jump Mark for the cheap guy he was.
