Whatever Remains: Angry Karma

Another excerpt from a work in progress. As I stated previously, I normally post these over at Project Foxfire. However, I wanted to share a couple of them here.

This is continued from "Whatever Remains: What Now?"

Advisory: Strong Language.

Horace and Hank stood there for a moment, each thinking of what to do next.

“So, you wanna get dressed first, or help me get her upstairs?”

“I’d say take care of her now, but what if she comes to while I’m carrying her and I’m still naked?”

“You mean after she’s noticed that the top of your head is missing?”

Hank looked upward and then down.

“Yeah, I see your point. I’ll carry her up while you get me those overalls and cap.”

“Good idea.”

As Horace passed his office, a hand magically appeared holding a bottle of whiskey with its cap removed. Not missing a beat, Horace took it and drank deeply while heading to the kitchen. As he passed through, he handed it off to Tom who in turn took a deep swig himself.

“Helluva night Hoffy. You sure do know how to show us zombies a real good time.”

“Fuck off Tom.”

“Love you too.”

“I just adore how you men get on. Makes me all gushy inside.”

Tom stood there looking at Anne reclining against the door frame. Walking over, he handed her the bottle and then returned to pour coffee for everyone. It wasn’t long before he heard her pad up behind him.

“So. You gonna tell me what’s going on around here.”

“Don’t know where to start. Not even sure I understand it myself.”

“Well how about you start with telling me why you were on your way to see me the night you were killed and then end with why Hoffy was with me when I woke up, not you.”

“Annie. Please. Why do this to yourself?”

Several moments of silence passed. Tom braced himself as he knew Anne was never one to let anything go that easily.

“The night you died. You weren’t coming to be with me, you were coming to say good-bye, weren’t you?”

Tom shuddered as memories of that night started creeping back into his consciousness. How did she know? Looking into her eyes he saw his answer. It was one of the things that had brought them together; her uncanny ability to read him perfectly, understanding him when it seemed no one else could.

However it wasn’t long into the relationship when he realized he’d made a mistake. Anne was merely a diversion; his relationship with her was just another way to push aside those things he needed to face head on. He cared for Anne, but not enough to turn his back on ten years of marriage and a daughter who adored him.

“Yes, I was going to end it between us. I love my wife Anne, always have. It’s just that our affair…”

“…was a way to run from your problems. Spare me the speech Tom. I’ve heard it before. You really think you’re the first to use me like this?”

“It wasn’t like that. I cared for you – still do.”

The hurt on her face was almost too much to bear, Tom reached for her, but as he did she backed away shaking her head.

“No Tom. I can’t deal with this right now. Not when there’s…there’s this.” Lifting her shirt, she stares at the coroner’s stitches crisscrossing her abdomen. “So is it true Tom? Are we really dead?”

“Actually, I’m not sure what we are. But Hoffy and I are working on it. He has a theory.”

“And that is?”

“I think we’d better wait until Hank is taken care of so we can all discuss this together.”

Horace returned just as Tom was finishing and shook his head furiously.

“Don’t think we have time for that now buddy.”

“Because?”

A piercing scream and a loud thud from the floor above them was Tom’s immediate answer. All three rushed upstairs to see a repeat of what had happened in the viewing room, but not exactly.

“Dammit Horace! Get your mother off of me!”

Horace would have if he’d been able, but at that moment he was immobilized by a fit of laughter making it impossible to respond to Hanks plea for mercy. There was no way for him to maintain his composure as he gazed in amazement at the sight Hank Daniels cowering in a corner, arms raised defensively as he tried his best to keep Horace’s mother from bashing in what was left of his skull with a lamp.

All he could manage was to motion at Tom and Anne to go help Hank. As he did, the only thing he could think of was how karma really does exist. Not only that, apparently it's pissed as hell.

© J.C. Montgomery 2009