Scavengers: July (9 page)

Ira’s weight shifted behind him and his soft lips pressed a kiss to the younger man’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful, boy,” he breathed, nuzzling him gently.

James looked at him, and smiled softly. He had never felt like a whole person until now. “I feel...,” he tried to explain, “Like I’m someone new...” The stickiness between his legs only reminded him of what they did.

“Aren’t ya?” asked Ira, embracing him with a sigh. It felt so natural to lie with him like that.

“I suppose I am...” James cuddled into his arms. “Was it as good for you?” he asked, just in case.

He heard Ira laugh as he hugged him even tighter, his penis slipping between the younger man’s thighs. “Ya gotta ask?”

“Just checking,” he smiled, with lots more confidence, and kissed him again.

Ira shook his head, giving him some room and trying to turn him over. “C’mere.”

“Don’t you want to see my fathers treasures first?” he teased, but only moved in closer, for another kiss. He didn’t want to go back to reality and Ira seemed to share that wish.

“They don’t ‘ave legs, eh?” the man laughed, touching him all over.

“Indeed, they do not,” he agreed, with a smile. James’ hands wandered off to Ira’s torso once again, as he simply couldn’t get enough of a man so close and available. “Though I assume they’re worth a lot more than me.”

“I ‘ave money.”

“What are you implying?” James furrowed his eyebrows.

Ira's brows shot up. “Do I look like one that ‘implies’?”

James kept staring at him, not sure what direction this conversation was heading. Was Ira trying to impress him?

“What...?” sighed the other man, caressing his back.

“We can’t stay here much longer...” said James kissing him slowly. Ira let out a groan, turned on his back and looked straight into the wooden ceiling.

“Yea,” he said slowly, “Let’s wash.”

James smile widened a bit when he looked at the treasure hunter. The man was very much to his taste. Tall and wide shouldered with a strong body. The drawings on his skin were mostly black and white, with an occasional splash of red. He looked delicious, with skin that was dusty, dark eyes and firm features. Would he go with submit to it if he weren't so attractive? He still didn’t know if he'd been infected though. That thought reminded him of his undead brother and the burning sensation on his neck. Shivers went down his spine at the memory of that hot rod of metal the ex sailor didn’t hesitate to use. At that time, Ira got out of bed, went over to a bucket he brought from downstairs and used a piece of cloth to clean himself. James followed in silence, not really knowing where to go with the conversation.

“Can you promise to get the jewels to my family if I don’t make it?” he asked, constantly gazing at Ira’s luscious, strong body.

The man looked back, prolonging the silence and nodded. “Sure.”

James washed himself quickly, but in the end, couldn’t help but hug Ira one more time. The man sighed, slowly brushing his fingers along his forearm. “No pain?”

“Are you kidding me!?” James laughed. “It hurts like hell and back. But what can I do?” he shrugged.

“Scar or ‘ole?” asked Ira, turning his head to look at him.

James went a bit stiff, looking down at his feet. “Scar,” he muttered.

“That’s good” the other man smiled.

*

Due to their continual, mutual displays of affection it took them about half an hour to get ready, but finally, James rolled out the blueprint and they started to search the attic. As directed by the plan they immediately focused on the hidden part of the room.

“Does it say ‘ow high it is?” asked Ira, uncovering a small window and coughing a bit, as dust suddenly burst into his face.

“It’s just above the floor,” said James kneeling with a hammer in order to start hitting the wooden wall. Ira stood behind him but moved when they heard a hollow sound.

“Must be it.”

“Spot on,” murmured James, hitting repeatedly, till he managed to rip out a few pieces of wood.

“Let me,” said Ira, squatting by him and reaching into the hole to open it up even further.

“Why? I’m doing it!” protested James excitedly, as he had already seen something inside.

“My skin’s thicker,” answered Ira, managing to break a plank that obscured their view.

“Oh yeah? Are you some kind of elephant?” James laughed, touching him with his forehead. “You definitely have a trunk.”

Ira groaned, looking into his eyes intently. “I dunno if I should be glad or not.”

“Come on! Just bring it out already!” said James, impatiently kissing him on the cheek. The older man sighed shaking his head, took out a large, wooden chest and carefully placed it on the floor.

“This is it...,” whispered James, looking into Ira’s dark eyes and opening the chest with a big, metal key.

“Smart,” commented Ira, as he sat down by the trunk, handing James a large rucksack.

“There’s no point in taking the box,” he agreed. When he opened the chest, his eyes went wide. It was what he had expected, but still, seeing all those jewels and rubies, and pearls, and diamonds, and golden coins, got his heart fluttering.

Ira smiled slowly, lifting his eyes up at James.

“This is simply amazing. It will last for years!” the aristocrat exclaimed, starting to pack the stones and jewels into the rucksack. Outside the window, there was still light, but it was dimming. More grayish, with clouds.

“I could just take it all and escape,” Ira laughed, helping him.

“You couldn’t... You promised,” said James flatly, looking up at him, worried. The man blinked and leaned forward, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“I know,” he sighed, ”Put my pay aside.”

James gave him a dreamy look. The closer they were to getting out, the more nervous he was feeling. For some reason, it was hard to talk. In silence, they both packed and descended into the blacksmith's room. Ira surveyed it, looking out through the gap between the door leaves.

“Oh shit—,” Ira trailed off when suddenly, something pushed at the wooden gate.

“What? Someone out there?” whispered James, adjusting the strap on his suitcase.

“Up! Go back up!” Ira breathed, nervousness clear in his face. “They’re here!” He immediately paced towards him and went back up the ladder, with James following instantly.

“How many of them are there!?” he asked angrily, heading for the other latch in the floor, the one that opened straight onto the stables.

“Fuckin’ lot!” hissed the other man, quickly opening the large door in the floor. The scene below froze James on the spot. There were at least a dozen zombies. The noise of the opening latch must have caught their attention, as they suddenly looked up, open mouthed in dreadful harmonious hunger. The men watched as grayish hands rose in a futile attempt to grab their prey.

James looked at Ira in panic. “We don’t have enough bolts to shoot them all!” The moans and growls from the stables made his stomach shrink.

The treasure hunter watched the zombies mill around, eyes focused and thoughtful, though James could see the veins in his neck pulsating. “Get their attention!” he suddenly said, standing up and walking to the large bed.

James licked his lips looking around nervously, but he was beginning to understand what might be Ira’s plan. Without thinking, he took out a knife and cut the palm of his hand with a loud hiss. At the smell of blood, the growls became louder and the undead started jumping like a pack of starving wolves. A few came closer to the dripping blood. “Here... uhm... you! Yes! You!” James felt insane talking to these monsters and actually wanting their attention. One of them stuck out a long, sickeningly black tongue and licked up the fresh blood that had fallen on its chin. The young man heard a loud, scuffing sound from behind him as Ira shoved a heavy piece of furniture closer to the opening.

“Direct it!” the other man hissed, seemingly unable to locate the hole in the attic floor from behind the bed. James swallowed walking around the edge, and hoping not to slip. This seemed like a plausible idea.

“Drop it on them and make a run for it?” he gave Ira a serious look, coming up from the other side to help him move the heavy piece of furniture in place.

“You read me?” the other man breathed, “Now come ’ere!”

James just nodded and moved closer. Once again, the adrenaline rush made him numb to his pain. He started counting backwards from 'three' and on “Now!” they pushed the bed on top of the rotting creatures below. Almost instantly they heard the thud, growls and the sound of breaking bones. Ira jumped down. As his feet hit the mattress, he tumble rolled with a grace that told James he must have been in such situations numerous times before. Taking out his serrated dagger, he killed two zombies in an instant. There were still too many of them.

“Down!” he screamed, stumbling over a hand that stuck out from below the broken bed.

James shivered uncontrollably but didn’t wait a second longer as he followed suit, jumping through the hole and onto the bed’s mattress. His fall wasn't half as good as Ira’s, though he did manage not to get scratched or bitten. There was no time for talk. Stepping over the killed monsters’ rotting bodies and avoiding the ones under the bed, he ran straight to the stables’ entrance, with a saber in his hand. The loot was heavy on his back but fear gave him wings. As they left the stable, Ira immediately grabbed his hand, leading him to a large tree nearby. A group of twenty or thirty creatures came right at them. The sound of gunshots must have led the former townsfolk to the mansion.

“Hide! I’ll lead’em away!” the man breathed, directing him towards the tree and then suddenly ran off, the jewels in his backpack clattering. “Come on! Come on, you scum!” he yelled, taking out a gun and shooting a way towards the mansion for himself.

James managed to mutter a very scared ‘No!’ as he watched Ira run. His heart shrunk in panic, when he heard a hungry moan only inches away.

*

“Fuckfuckfuck!” Ira hissed over and over, shooting the beasts on his way and trying to make as much noise as possible. When he stole a short moment to look back, it seemed that the tactic proved useful, as all the undead shuffled in his direction. He hoped his inexperienced companion would be all right. From what he remembered from the blueprint, he could outmaneuver them inside the mansion thanks to the separate space formerly used by servants. It even had its own door.

In the main hall, there was only one zombie, but he outran it, racing through a richly decorated corridor and into the drawing room. As he broke through the door, a creature launched itself at him, almost knocking him over, but he managed to kill it with the dagger and shoot another one before continuing the flight into yet another corridor. His heart was hammering rapidly and the growing nervousness only powered the unpleasant lightheadedness. All his senses were wide-awake in panic. He knew that a single mistake could cost him his life.

With a horde of zombies following him, his best option was to run. Following his instincts, he stormed through a small door to his side and almost fell over human skeletons piling up at the center of a sparsely decorated room that must have been a part of the servants’ quarters. He aimed for a door on the other side, but as he saw something move behind it, his mind went practically blank and he launched himself at a wooden staircase at the side of the room. He felt something grab the crossbow on his back and let it slip down without a second thought. All he cared about now was to get away. The servants’ corridor was empty, but with the sound of numerous feet behind him and seeing another way out, he stormed into every other room, seeking a way through. With downstairs blocked, he couldn't use the planned escape route and somehow, he couldn't recall the blueprints anymore either. Each time he tried to find a passage, it cost him precious distance from the zombies.

Moving through the house, he barged into a massive bedroom with yet another pair of rotting corpses on an expensive looking carpet. The smell of mold, dampness and death almost made him sick. The windows were covered, so it was dark. Though he was extremely agile, in all the chaos Ira fell over with another curse on his lips. A zombie, which was right behind him, took advantage of the situation and grabbed his jacket, but Ira turned swiftly and jabbed its forehead with a dagger. Another undead hand was already reaching into the room, when he jumped back to his feet and crushed it in the doorframe with brutal force. With other monsters already behind it, Ira locked the door, almost in a frenzy and moved a few steps away. It was literally shaking and looked as if it wouldn’t hold the zombies back much longer. The treasure hunter ran a hand over his scalp, his breath unpleasantly heavy. He noticed a window, moved across and opened it immediately. At least he had a gun. If he jumped and broke a leg, he could still shoot himself before they got him. A bitter laugh left his lips as he saw zombies moving all over the lawn. This was the side of the building he ran into and it appeared as though many undead had lost track of his whereabouts. For a moment, he stood there, not knowing what to do next, but then, a shape to the side caught his attention and hope instantly filled his heart. Urged by another crackling sound from the door, Ira put both of his feet on the windowsill and grabbed the rusty drainpipe. He didn't even check how solid it was, he simply gripped the metal piece and jumped across. The pulsing in his head strengthened as his body curled around the broad pipe, his stomach convulsing in sheer panic.