Scavengers: July by K.A. Merikan Page A

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