Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205 by Robert Decoteau Read Free Book Online

the other. My
muscles strained, I wouldn't be able to hold myself up for much
longer.
    “What the fuck, Colby,” I shouted, tugging at
my leg, trying to break his grasp. I felt pressure on the toe of my
dress shoe, “let go you asshole.”
    The pressure increased as I curled my toes up
and yanked my leg out of his hands. I fell, a mass of flailing arms
and legs, landing hard on my back half on the toilet in the cramped
little space two stalls over from where I started. I had the wind
knocked out of me and could feel a giant Charlie horse just under
my left shoulder blade where I connected with the edge of the U
shaped seat of the porcelain toilet.
    “You are a fucking asshole,” I yelled at
Colby's shoes, not more than two feet away from my face as I laid
on the floor in his blood, “That wasn't funny, you bastard.”
    Colby didn't say anything. I could see from
where I laid on the floor that Mathew was on the move again. He was
shifting toward my new stall using that old man gate of his. I
scrambled up to my knees and slid the lock into place just as he
reached the door.
    It took me several minutes to recover most of
my composure and some of my dignity as I twisted and turned, trying
to right myself in the close confines of the little cubicle. I took
a few moments to rest on the edge of the plastic seat. I cupped my
hand over my scrotum through my slacks, wondering if I had torn it
or if it just felt like it. I was missing my right shoe and
probably would have bruises all over from the way Colby had grabbed
me and from my fall.
    “Give me my fucking shoe back, Colby,” I said
as I stepped up onto the toilet and looked over the divider, I was
pissed now. Sure, they were only Payless, dress shoes, buy one pair
get the second half off, but I felt like a dumbass sitting there
with only one.
    Colby was standing in the next stall reaching
up at me with my shoe in his mouth.
    “Quit fucking around,” I said, snatching at
my shoe, I had to jerk hard to break it free from his clenched
teeth, “Jesus Christ, Colby, how can you joke around at a time like
this? You could be fucking bleeding to death. I've got you're
fucking blood all over me now,” I added as I looked at the smears
all down my right leg. I was sure that his blood was all over my
back from lying on the floor, but I couldn't very well turn my head
around to see how bad my shirt was stained.
    Sitting back down on my toilet, I untied my
shoe and put it back on. There were ragged teeth marks in the fake
leather, but it was better than not having it. I hadn't had time to
do my laundry over the weekend, so the thin, black socks I was
wearing were old and had a few holes in them.
    I took a minute to rest after my ordeal. My
watch showed 2:46. Damn near two hours had passed and nobody had
come to rescue us. Hell, nobody had even come to use the john.
    I climbed back up onto the edge of the toilet
seat. My legs were very shaky now from all the exertion. I leaned
close to look down into Colby's stall. There was something not
right. Colby had pulled some awful practical jokes around the
office over the years, but he was also kind of a clean freak, so
having my shoe in his mouth was more of a joke on him than me.
    I peeked over, and then snatched my head back
quickly, nearly slipping off my precarious perch. Colby was
reaching up at me again, his outstretched fingers just inches from
my face as he thumped against the wall between us.
    I heard his assailant shuffle at the door of
my new stall and thump against it with his face. I could see his DC
shoes under the door again.
    “Stop playing around, Colby,” I admonished
him, “If you want me to get help, you'll change your attitude
quick.” I wasn't going to rush out of the restroom and just leave
him with this maniac, but I did deserve a little respect; I mean,
shit, I was crawling over the toilets for this accounts payable
piece of crap and he had the nerve to pull a stunt like he did. I
mean what kind of dumbass