Paul didn’t. “She bit my boot, not my foot,” he said, trying to explain.
“Then what’s all the blood about?” she asked.
“I did not get bit!” Paul said heatedly.
“What really happened?”
“I told you!”
“You told me nothing. What if I were to say that I did not believe you or trust you?”
Paul fumed.
“Come, come Mr. Ginson, turnabout is fair play.”
“What are you planning on doing?”
“Why, whatever I please. You yourself said there isn’t even a jury to convict me.”
“I know what I said,” Paul replied angrily.
“Yes, Michael, they both died trying to save me,” Deneaux’s words were laced with syrup. “And he’d believe me because he’d have to. What’s the alternative? That an old crone like me killed two strapping young men? Huh? Who would believe that?”
“Mike’s smart, he’d suspect you were lying.”
“Suspect away, you can’t try someone on suspicion,” she laughed. “I should know.”
“So you’re just going to shoot me in cold blood, is that it?”
“I had rather hoped to wait until you turned into a zombie, but if you keep trying to get off that couch, I will have to put you down like a cur.”
“I’m telling you for the fiftieth time, I did not get bit!”
“Keep your voice down, or your friends will come back.”
It took Paul a moment to realize what she had said. “The zombies are gone?”
“Yes, your back-up left while the virus was spreading around inside of you. Obviously, because you were not worth eating anymore.”
So what does that say about you, you fucking battleaxe? Paul thought, but wisely kept to himself.
“Listen, Deneaux, I did not get bit. I shot myself, okay? I fucking shot myself.”
“Oh, that’s rich,” she laughed. “Sad, if true, but rich. Worthy of a hearty laugh, I’ll make sure to do one over your shallow grave.”
Paul hastily pulled his bandage off.
“Easy,” Deneaux said from across the room. “Don’t go getting any ideas, I didn’t say ‘bright’ because I have yet to see you have one, and I didn’t think you were getting ready to buck that trend.”
“Look at my damn foot! Does that look like a bite?!” Paul was nearly shrieking.
A high intensity flashlight blasted Paul in the face. His headache, which had been on the decline, came back with a vengeance. “You did that on purpose,” he said, shielding his eyes from the handheld sun.
“Of course, I did. Hold your foot up.”
Paul sat back on the couch and put his foot in the air. Deneaux stared long and hard at the wound. It was long minutes before she spoke.
“It’s amazing you’ve survived this long.”
“So you believe me now?” Paul asked.
“I do.”
“Can I have my gun back?”
“I think I’ll hold onto it for a while longer. At least we know you’ll be safer.”
“You’re a…”
“Careful, the number one cause of accidental shootings is careful aim.”
Paul wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but she was holding the gun. “I’m getting some food.” Paul stood up.
“There are more candles on the table,” she told him before she opened the shade a bit to get a look out into the night.
“All the people left on the planet and I get stuck with her, I had more fun by myself last night.” The more he thought about that, the truer it rang. Of course, he had been with half a bottle of pain pills. “Should have saved those for tonight. Might have actually made her worthwhile company.”
“What are you going on about in there?” Deneaux asked.