Liz and Socks

When I woke up, Liz was curled into me and was clutching my arm for all it was worth. But she always did that. She was really soft and warm, and I really liked it, but I had to piss so I gently tugged my arm free and sat up. I slipped my feet into my boot-boots. I called them that because they didn’t match. I got the left one from a Macy’s in Cincinnati, the one at the Tri-County Mall, and the other from a thrift store outside of Chicago. I think it was a St. Vincent De Paul in Kankakee. The Macy’s boot used to be part of a pair, but I lost one in a muddy field running from the Crazies. Looking madly for a place to hide I saw the store. I remembered as a kid hiding in the middle of circular racks of coats or dresses. I dove into the gloom through the hole where the storefront used to be. That’s when I met Liz. She had the same idea and I nearly got stabbed by her! It was the missing boot that stopped her. “Socks” she said and that’s how I got my nickname. After things settled down, Liz suggested getting another pair from the store, but there was only one right boot my size. Only One. Can you believe it? It didn’t match my left, but they felt ok, so I never bothered to find a matching pair.

Well, like I said, I had just woken up. Liz was snoring softly. She says she doesn’t, but she does too. I hear her, but it’s ok. It’s kind of cute and honestly, little things like that give me this feeling of home. I leaned back to take another look at her. Softly, I brushed a lock of her nut-brown hair back from her cheek. She’d wake up soon, and I’d need to have breakfast before she did. She doesn’t like to see me eat. I don’t blame her, really. I’m quite the messy eater, so…So I stepped outside and pissed on the dumpster next to the door. Last night I thought I had smelled something just over a block. Breakfast for me and maybe something for Liz. I was feeling pretty good as I shambled down the alley. Maybe after eating I’d look around for a new jacket. Maybe a new shirt or something for Liz. Yeah.

I was humming this song, Elvin Bishop’s “Fooled Around and Fell in Love”, as I turned onto the sidewalk. The smell of food was strong now. I saw some Crazies off in the distance, but they didn’t look my way. They were feeding. It looked like a horse. They were way messier than me, I assure you. I didn’t look at them long before I shuffled slowly towards that mouthwatering smell. You know, if you look hard enough you could probably make out pretty well collecting food items. Liz taught me that. She’d eat pineapple just as fast as Kitty Delight. Me? I’m not as picky as she made out, but I do like what I like. Kitty Delight isn’t on the list. Liz says I should eat better. I guess, but salad isn’t my thing, really.

I stopped in front of a Dixie Donut. I really used to dig their crullers. My mind was on something more substantial today, though. The delectable aroma was coming from somewhere up above. I climbed through the hole where the windows used to be and peered into the gloomy interior. I headed to the back of the store, and sure enough, there were the stairs.

Now, this is the tricky part. I’m not exactly the most graceful guy for sure. Liz says that’s because I don’t pay attention to my surroundings. She’s probably right, you know. The tricky part…So, I have to go up the stairs and be very quiet. I’m notoriously loud. Liz says that I breathe loud and smack my lips a lot. I don’t notice it much, but Liz says I’m just used to it or I’m deaf. So, the stairs…It was dark in the store, and darker up the stairwell. There was a lot of stuff, like garbage and old clothes, that sort of thing, cluttering the stairs. Well, you already know I’m clumsy. Liz says I have to lift my feet instead of shuffling. She says that’s much quieter.

I get kinda distracted sometimes. The odor was stronger here on the landing, and it pulled at me. I was awful hungry. I was shaking a little with excitement, like in anticipation, but I stopped and waited until I was steady. Liz says the best things are worth waiting for. I don’t understand that, but I didn’t tell her. I didn’t want to sound uncultured or whatever. Well anyway, that smell was distracting me bad, so I started up the stairs.

Every step I took sounded like a stampede to me. The stairs creaked and groaned under my feet, but I kept going and nobody raised an alarm or anything. So far, so good. At the top landing, there was a door, and from behind it came that wonderful odor. I used to just knock down the door, but Liz says I ought to try a doorknob instead of breaking everything. I suppose she has a point. Anyhow, I tried the handle very slowly. No lock. That food smell was overpowering. I could barely hold myself back. I needed food and it was in that room. Pushing lightly on the door, it swung open easily.

Liz says that I’m pretty fast and it came in handy today. The food was screaming and trying to find a way out of that room. Both of them were smallish, but I didn’t need too much. I grabbed at one and it fought like a demon, even biting me. That’s desperate. The other had fainted by then, so I only had to deal with this wild, squirming, very loud piece of food. I had to shut it up or the crazies would hear for sure and then I’d be in real trouble. I’d be the food. So I snapped its neck. I’m pretty strong when I need to be, I guess. I stepped lightly over the refuse that had gathered there over time and killed the other one.

I’m not going to talk about how I eat, but it’s pretty messy. I’m more careful now that I have Liz because she doesn’t like the blood so much, and sometimes there’s little pieces of leftover food that make her gag. I am pretty careful to clean up before I go back to her. Thankfully, these two had water with them and I was able to wash up pretty well, but I’d need a new coat. Probably a new shirt too. I stripped off the blood-soaked coat and shirt. There was a cast-off pile of clothes in a corner of the room and I found a cool shirt right away. “Pink Floyd Delicate Sound of Thunder” it read. The back had a bunch of tour dates. Very cool. I pulled it on and looked at myself in a broken mirror hung on the back of the door. In a thousand shattered pieces, I stared back with eyes the color of ice. Man, I looked good.

Some say that my kind are too gray, whatever that means. I think we’re kinda blue. Blackish red veins, drawn like a map across our bodies maybe seem a little spooky and weird, but Liz says I’m beautiful. I know. I’m a guy and all, so calling me beautiful is a little strange. But when Liz says it, it sounds right. Sometimes, late at night, Liz traces the lines with her fingers, breathing softly in that warm way of hers that makes me love her even more. Liz is beautiful, inside and out, whereas I just killed two children to eat. But Liz says I’m not a monster. She says I have to eat, but she can’t bear to watch.

It was getting late. I went down the stairs two at a time. At the bottom, I found a white chef coat. I figured it would do. White, obviously isn’t my best color. I always forget to take of white things before eating. It’s just that the smell is overpowering, and I can’t hold back. I tugged it on anyway. It had this name tag that was really strange. It read “OZZY” in big black letters. For some reason, that tag struck me as both odd and normal. Normal in an odd way, I guess. I still have it, actually, that tag. I stayed in the shadows for a minute to make sure no crazies had come towards the sounds of the struggle upstairs. That white jacket must have stuck out. I hadn’t even considered it. Nothing saw me. Seeing the coast was clear, I sauntered out onto the streets, feeling full and looking good. A light rain had started. “Good,” I thought. I could wash the rest of the gore from my hair. About halfway back, I glanced at where I had seen the group of crazies earlier. They were gone now. I hurried along.

There was a pawn shop on the block where I left Liz. There in the back of the shop was a mannequin tipped over on its face. I could hardly believe it, but there was a leather jacket. I immediately switched coats. Kept the tag, like I said. Feeling cool, I headed up the stairs to my Liz.

I felt it before I heard it. Liz was screaming. I could hear a struggle, things being thrown, Liz was crying, sobbing in terror. I ran up and crashed into the room. There were two crazies and they were hungry. In a frozen moment, I saw Liz look at me in desperation and fear. I saw the two crazies, black eyes, tallow skin and sharply filed teeth. I saw a thousand shards of time in my mind’s eye.

Liz said I was gathering Chi. I don’t know about that. Liz tried to explain once but gave up. I’m too obtuse sometimes she says. I’m a little shy about telling her I don’t know what obtuse is either. I guess I gathered enough Chi and took the first crazy just below his armpit. Crazies are pretty thin, but really solid. I knocked him across the room and got myself between Liz and them.

Liz was still screaming and that only made the crazies more frantic and determined. As the first came at me, I knocked Liz aside and threw that bastard right out the window. Liz was chuffing hard. I must have pushed her pretty hard and knocked the breath out of her. At least she had stopped screaming. I’m really sensitive to noise. Liz says I should wear earplugs. Anyway, the second one was grappling with me, trying to get at Liz. I had his head between my hand and was squeezing mightily when a fire poker slipped under my arm and into the crazy’s chest. Liz. The thing staggered backward looking at the brass handle protruding from its chest. It fell to the floor and I stomped on its head, crushing it.

Liz was quiet now. I looked at her, and she stared back with ice colored eyes. I stared at her naked body in horror, transfixed as her skin was slowly etched with blackened tendrils. Liz just looked at me. She didn’t shudder. She didn’t tremble. She simply held out her arm. Bite marks like welts had risen, red against her alabaster skin. One final tear slipped from those frozen eyes.

I am in love with Liz, and she with me. She says it’s a good thing that she got bit because now we have even more in common. She's a good road companion even if I didn't love her, and she's smart. She wants to head out west and maybe start a chicken ranch. Easy food. She's always thinking of things like that.

But she still doesn’t like to see me eat.