All That I See - 02 Read Online Free PDF

ya,” he said. “Eye for an eye, foot for a foot, and all that.”
    I just stared at him.
    “Feed ya to the goons?”
    He stood. I didn’t know what to expect. He l ooked around at the other men.
    “Let’s lock him up in the cage with Cor ndog. That’d be funny as hell.”
     
    This “cage” to which he referred was a cattle trailer. They dragged me inside, dropped me, and left me in the floor with the dried, leftover manure. They closed the gat e on the trailer and locked it.
    I lay there for several minutes hoping my head would quit hurting and trying to get my brain to work despite the pain, but I never really got to that point. I could hear engines revving and roaring. Eventually, I crawled over to the wall and pulled myself up so I could see through the bars. My ankle felt weak from my fall.
    We were at the Grace County Fairgrounds parked near the grandstands beside the racetrack. Because of the recent rain, the track was muddy. There were three people speeding around it on four-wheelers. A couple of men were leaning against the fence watching them.
    They were making a lot of noise, and I didn’t understand how they were able to keep the undead away. Not only that, but we were within a mile of Grace County High School. I was surprised the noise hadn’t brought the group of survivors at the school over to investigate.
    To the left of the grandstands was the ExpoCenter, a large metal building where the county used to host large indoor flea markets, craft fairs, and farm shows. There were a couple of men standing outside the entrance to that building.
    I was scared, but not as much as I thought I’d be. Maybe I’d become jaded to all the danger and excitement. Maybe my adrenal gland shut itself off. Maybe I was starting to give up and just didn’t care anymore. More than anything, I was glad that Sara was safe. I was a little surprised to find that in that moment, I cared more for her life than mine.
    There was some movement over at the ExpoCenter. The two men by the door parted to make room for another man pushing Corndog in a wheelchair. Corndog’s foot was wrapped up in a towel or sheet and held in place by silver duct tape; it was a bulge at the end of his leg like a bloody turban. He had a big plastic jug of cheap rum in his lap. My head was hurting so badly that I really couldn’t appreciate just how bizarre this situation was.
    They wheeled Corndog to the back of the trailer then opened the gate. Two men pointed guns at me to keep me from trying to escape. I backed up to the front of the trailer. Corndog looked kind of glassy-eyed, but when he saw me he perked up.
    “You! You done blowed off my foot an’ ever’thang!”
    I didn’t say anything.
    “Git me in there, boys.”
    The other men laughed. They got on each side of the wheelchair t hen lifted him into the trailer. Then they shut the gate and locked it.
    “I’m all tore up over Helen. You said you’d help.”
    “She was already gone,” I said.
    One of the men fed a machete through the bars of the trailer and Corndog took it.
    I was in a redneck version of Thunderdome.
    He took a drink from his rum jug. I wasn’t concerned about him. He was in no condition to be a real threat. What concerned me were the men outside. I didn’t see any way I could escape. Corndog screwed the lid on his jug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
    “C’mone now,” he said, motioning me toward him.
    “Git ‘im, Corny!” one of the men yelled, laughing.
    He put the machete across his lap and tried pushing on the wheels of his chair so he could come closer to me, but he didn’t have the strength. He pushed again and pushed himself out of his seat into the floor of the trailer.
    The men outside howled with laughter. Corndog laughed, too, sadly under the presumption that they were laughing with him instead of at him.
    “Hell,” he said, “I’m gonna cut off his nuts and ever’thang.”
    “Cut ‘im, Corny!”
    He pushed himself up on hands