Yellow Eyes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 7 (v.1)

Submitted: April 17, 2008

Reads: 182

Comments: 3

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Submitted: April 17, 2008

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I went into the dining room and checked then back to the door in the kitchen.I cracked the blinds again and the cat was still there, staring up at the window.He saw me again and meowed.This time, I unlocked the door, opened it narrowly and watched as he sniffed toward the open door, then took a tentative step forward.I clucked at him with my tongue and he came through the door slowly.My heart was hammering in my chest.I felt exposed and foolish, but was glad when he was inside.I closed the door and locked it, checked through the slitted blinds and picked him up and carried him upstairs with me.
I carried him along as I made the rounds of the windows.He didn’t seem to mind.His purring was comforting and somehow, his size made me feel like I had an obligation to protect him.My thoughts started to stray toward Dale and I pushed them aside as I gazed from the window in the master bedroom.I was dizzy, the Percocett was making me even groggier than I had been and I needed to get on with it.Carrying the cat back to the bathroom, I talked to him softly.
“What’s your name buddy?”
He rubbed against my arm and licked my bicep.There was no collar and in the best scenario he had been abandoned so I decided to name him.I set him on sink counter and he stretched his neck toward me for a petting as I closed the door and rested my shotgun.I scratched his head then crossed the room to the linen closet and removed several towels.I looked at him sitting on the sink for a moment before coming back over.
“Gonna have to give you a name I suppose.”
I unscrewed the cap from the rubbing alcohol and set myself.Tipping the bottle, I poured part of its contents into both wounds and gritted my teeth and hissed.The cat tensed and I watched him gather himself for a leap.
“Don’t.”I ordered.
He stopped wiggling his rear end and looked at me.I smiled and he eased some.A pat on the head and he sat, watching me.I nodded brusquely and he began purring.Turning my attention away from him, I blotted the wounds with a fresh towel then dumped some more alcohol into the larger one on my shoulder.I hissed and he tensed again and was quelled when I shot him a sharp glance.I picked up the scissors and leaned forward.
“Soldier.”I told him.“That’s your name now.”
Leaning forward over the sink, I blotted the wound, and used the scissors to cut the hanging strands of tissue free.It hurt like hell.The blade tips missed several times and poked into the raw muscles and nerves and flames would shoot through my chest.I gasped but Soldier stayed put, his head cocked toward me.I blotted, and snipped, blotted and snipped.When I could see no more loose strands, I dumped more of the alcohol in, smeared it with Neosporin and then packed it with gauze and taped that in place.I did the smaller one the same way.
When I was done, I made another round of the upper windows, then went back to the bathroom and pulled on the fresh shirt.I pulled the belt and holsters from soiled pants and cleaned the guns, dug the shells from my pockets and dropped them into the back pack.Carrying the pistols and belt into the kid’s room with the toys littering the floor, I laid them on the nightstand next to the bed.I retrieved the rifle and back pack then and brought them in as well.I made one last check downstairs, carried up a plate of cold ham and a jug of orange juice and went back for another cup of coffee and to turn the pot off.
Soldier followed me around the whole time.Even when I set the plate down on the bed, he only looked longingly at it, but turned to follow me as I left the room.I checked out the windows again before returning upstairs.When I sat down on the bed, he hopped up and I fed him ham from the plate, ate some myself and then slugged off half the orange juice.
After we had eaten, I laid the plate beside me on the bed and told him the rest was his.Taking my coffee and the shotgun, I made one more round before returning to the bedroom with Soldier slipping between my heels as I walked, and pulled the door shut and locked it.
“Well boy, looks like this is as good a place as any to post up for the night.Do me a favor and keep your ears peeled.”
I laid a hand over his head and scratched his ears, feeling him purr.After a moment, I leaned back with the pillows propping me in a sitting position, and closed my eyes, holding the shotgun across my chest.I listened to the cat purr, felt his warmth along my side and slipped into sleep.
I awoke to the low sound of Soldier hissing.I had been hearing it for a while, coming slowly from sleep and when my eyes opened, he was at the edge of the bed, facing the window with his back arched, his fur up.Allowing myself a little time to come fully awake, I swung my legs to the floor and leaned toward the window, studying the night.
It was dark out.There must have been heavy clouds because I saw no stars and the moon was not to be seen.Low thunder rumbled overhead.I was facing the west side of the property, a small stretch of side yard, a leaning fence, beyond that was a field of sorts.From there, I couldn’t tell what grew in that lot. Soldier continued hissing, obviously aggravated.I scratched his head and drew my belt, with its holstered pistols, to the bed.Strapping it on, I stood up.
Glass broke downstairs and I turned away from the window.There was a bang as the front door was thrown open and then footsteps running across the floor.Lots of footsteps.The cat had quieted, his ears were laid flat over his skull and he faced the door.I stared toward the door, uncertain what was the best course.
We waited briefly.There was a snarl from downstairs and something else broke.I stepped back against the wall facing the door and raised the shotgun.Soldier jumped form the bed and took a defensive posture between the door and me.I waited, my heart beating in slow heavy thuds.
Footfalls sounded on the stairs and then somebody screamed.There were more footsteps on the stairs and in the hall in front of us.The doorknob rattled and then there was a snarl and that scream again.I came forward, nearly tripped over the damn cat, and unlocked the door.Pulling it open, I stepped back with the gun raised.
There was one of those yellow-eyes.He was squaring off, facing the end of the hall when I pulled the door open.His face turned toward me, showed hunger and hate, and I pulled the trigger.Red spray blossomed from his front and he slammed through the open door way across the hall.I stepped out, threw a glance to the end of the hall and saw her.She was sitting with her back to the attic door, her knees drawn up, her bare legs bloodied and scraped.
I looked down the stairs and saw the yellow-eye standing there glaring up at me.When I turned the gun toward him, he darted into the darkened living room.I stood still, listening as he made his way through the house.The back door slammed against the wall in the kitchen.I looked to the woman at the end of the hall.She was standing up so I resumed my defensive vigilance of the stairwell.
“Are you hurt?”I asked.
She started crying then.Soft muffled sobs.I snapped a look over my shoulder and saw she was covering her mouth with one hand.Long dark hair hung in matted clumps over her face.She swept it aside with her free hand and looked at me.I looked back down the steps, then back at her.She was approaching me, her sobbing mouth making that weird smile that kids get when they cry really hard.I looked away.Her hand fell on my shoulder, my wounded shoulder, and I hissed my pain.I felt her head pressing into my back as she leaned into me.
“Are you hurt?”I asked again.I felt her head move against me, didn’t know if she was nodding or shaking it or just enjoying the feel of another human being.I asked again and this time she answered.
“No.Not really.”Her voice was small and trembling.“Thank you.”
I didn’t respond to that.“How many were there?Do you know?”
“I don’t know.Those two, maybe more following.It was dark, we were alone.”
I nodded then.She had lost somebody.Probably they had died in her defense and she had gotten clean away.I thought of dale, thought of soldier who was standing erect next to my foot and turned my head over my shoulder again to look at the woman.She was thin; wearing nothing more than some mud and grass stained panties and a too large T-shirt.Her small breasts moved freely under her T-shirt and I realized she didn’t have a bra on. Why I noticed?I’m a man I’m used to looking for those things.I wasn’t stirred though.Not sexually, anyways.She looked frail and helpless.She ran a grimy hand over her nose then looked up at me with soft brown eyes.She was young.Maybe still a teenager.
“What’s your name girl?”
Her voice was small and weak, timid.“Dale.”
I looked away quick.Staring back down the stairwell I pretended to be keeping alert but my mind had just imploded.My heart stopped, I felt it, then after a slow second resumed pumping.My stomach hurt suddenly and I felt like I was going to fall right down the stairs.
“What did you say?”I whispered.
Her reply floated back to me in a whisper as she took my lead.“Dale.”
I nodded slowly.Sure enough, her name was Dale.It was a hell of a coincidence and I was never superstitious but I felt something inside me wanting to protect her.For no other reason than that her name was Dale, I resolved she was my responsibility now.I turned around to face her.
“You’re with me now kid.We’ll get through this somehow.Okay?”
She nodded and opened her mouth to reply.Whatever she might have been about to say I’ll never know because right then we heard a sound that made my blood run cold.It was a long ululating howl that began a low snarling cry and changed to a high pitched shriek and then went back.It lasted all of five seconds and then the cry went out again.I had never heard the sound before in my life but I could guess what it was.It was that damn yellow-eyed bastard that had run from the foot of the steps.He was outside and calling to his brethren.Dale stared at me wide-eyed and pale.Tears brimmed in her eyes as the howling died down.A few seconds later there was a reply from somewhere out in the night, then another from the opposite side of the house, farther out.
I grabbed Dale by her wrist and drug her into the girl’s bedroom, stepping over the yellow-eye as we crossed the threshold.I turned on the light and she gasped at the body on the floor.Maybe she had known the girl.I pointed to the drawers and closet.
“Get some pants and shoes now!”I turned away and crossed the hall to the room where I had slept.

I gathered my backpack and dug a shell out to replace the one I had fired earlier.After the gun was reloaded, I slipped the backpack over my shoulder, went to the bathroom and collected my first-aid supplies and carried them across the hall and set them on the top of the dead girl’s dresser.Dale looked up at me, she was pulling on a pair of sweat pants.I left again and returned with the rifle.There was another howl outside.I looked toward the window and saw only darkness.The howl was answered again, this time more closely and by three voices.


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