Chapter 2.5
"Lee. Lee!"
Melissa crouched next to Lee and shook him by the shoulder. The rough hardwood floor creaked under her feet. Lee groaned and flailed his hand in the air, trying to find her.
Melissa glanced around the room. It was eerily quiet now. There was only the drone of the two overhead fans and the distant hum of traffic through the open drive-through window. A woman dressed in pastel pink stood across the table from Melissa. Her eyes were sunken out of sight. Blood had streamed from the sockets and covered her cheeks like some kind of lurid blush. A six-inch-wide stain ran down the front of her dress from the collar to the hem.
It looked to Melissa as if a team of lunatics with paint cans had run wild in the restaurant. Thick gouts of blood had splashed against the windows, obscuring her view outside. The glass of iced tea on the table was clouded with floating droplets of it. Sliced brisket, chicken legs, and sausage links swam in platefuls of red.
"Lee! Wake up."
Lee raised himself partway up, in obvious pain. He looked around the room, wincing, trying to focus his eyes. At that moment, the pink lady let out a feeble hiss and collapsed onto the table, knocking it to the floor and catapulting a rain of blood and silverware onto their heads. Lee screamed and covered his face with both hands.
"Ohh. What happened? Melissa?"
"I'll explain later. We have to find Suky first." Melissa searched the room, looking under tables and chairs, calling Suky's name. There was no answer. "Let's try back here."
They went behind the counter and into the hall leading to the kitchen.
"Oh my god, Lee..."
"What?"
"Your clothes."
A pool of blood had gathered under Lee when he was on the floor and stained the whole back side of him.
"Well," he said, "We'll worry about it later." Lee bent over and picked up a phone from the hand of a dead cook. "It's on," he said. "Just a dial tone. We should call the police."
"Yeah. No...wait," Melissa said. "Don't. I'm not sure."
"What do you mean you're not sure? These people are dead."
"I'm just not sure."
There were sirens in the distance now.
"We need to leave," Melissa said. "Let's go."
"What about Suky?"
"I don't know. We'll have to try and find him later. I want to go. Come on."
Lee was still wobbling as Melissa helped him out the back door and into the Jalapeno. She jumped into the driver's seat, powered on, and darted onto the access road as the sirens drew closer.
"Where to?" Lee asked drowsily.
"No sleeping," Melissa said. She was afraid he might have a concussion. She reached over and slapped him gently on the cheek. "Lee? No sleeping. Talk to me. I need you to give me directions back to your place."
Continue
Melissa crouched next to Lee and shook him by the shoulder. The rough hardwood floor creaked under her feet. Lee groaned and flailed his hand in the air, trying to find her.
Melissa glanced around the room. It was eerily quiet now. There was only the drone of the two overhead fans and the distant hum of traffic through the open drive-through window. A woman dressed in pastel pink stood across the table from Melissa. Her eyes were sunken out of sight. Blood had streamed from the sockets and covered her cheeks like some kind of lurid blush. A six-inch-wide stain ran down the front of her dress from the collar to the hem.
It looked to Melissa as if a team of lunatics with paint cans had run wild in the restaurant. Thick gouts of blood had splashed against the windows, obscuring her view outside. The glass of iced tea on the table was clouded with floating droplets of it. Sliced brisket, chicken legs, and sausage links swam in platefuls of red.
"Lee! Wake up."
Lee raised himself partway up, in obvious pain. He looked around the room, wincing, trying to focus his eyes. At that moment, the pink lady let out a feeble hiss and collapsed onto the table, knocking it to the floor and catapulting a rain of blood and silverware onto their heads. Lee screamed and covered his face with both hands.
"Ohh. What happened? Melissa?"
"I'll explain later. We have to find Suky first." Melissa searched the room, looking under tables and chairs, calling Suky's name. There was no answer. "Let's try back here."
They went behind the counter and into the hall leading to the kitchen.
"Oh my god, Lee..."
"What?"
"Your clothes."
A pool of blood had gathered under Lee when he was on the floor and stained the whole back side of him.
"Well," he said, "We'll worry about it later." Lee bent over and picked up a phone from the hand of a dead cook. "It's on," he said. "Just a dial tone. We should call the police."
"Yeah. No...wait," Melissa said. "Don't. I'm not sure."
"What do you mean you're not sure? These people are dead."
"I'm just not sure."
There were sirens in the distance now.
"We need to leave," Melissa said. "Let's go."
"What about Suky?"
"I don't know. We'll have to try and find him later. I want to go. Come on."
Lee was still wobbling as Melissa helped him out the back door and into the Jalapeno. She jumped into the driver's seat, powered on, and darted onto the access road as the sirens drew closer.
"Where to?" Lee asked drowsily.
"No sleeping," Melissa said. She was afraid he might have a concussion. She reached over and slapped him gently on the cheek. "Lee? No sleeping. Talk to me. I need you to give me directions back to your place."
Continue
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