I could not, for the life of me, complete a thought. It was if my brain was trying to process the meaning and existence of some of the world's greatest mysteries (The Bermuda Triangle, Intelligent life from other planets, Intelligent life from THIS planet, Michael Moore). Some things we may never have the answer to.
Once my brain reconnected with the rest of my body, the only reflex I could understand was RUN. Thank God I had recently started a routine running regimen, I had a feeling cardio was going to be of great use to me.
All of a sudden, I heard it again..ZAP! With all of my previous horror movie nights...I knew that this would not be a good time to stop and be inquisitive; however, I just could not make myself take another step. I had to see what the deal was. After a brief moment of stillness, I saw the body raise up again and make an attempt to stand, but when it got to the point of bending at the waist, the rear stuck out just far enough to touch the fence, and ZAP! right back down it went. I found it disturbing that I wanted to laugh. But at the same time, I was confused as Hell. A few minutes later, the same thing. I watched this go on for a few minutes before I started feeling like a sadist. However amusingly disturbing this picture was, it definitely qualified as Grade A entertainment. I watched long enough to realize two things. One..this thing obviously has the mental capacity of a banana..and Two..I have time to finish my glass of wine before the cops get here. Yay me!
I figured the thing was in the best place for containment. It was doing a darn good job with the fence. So, as I turned back towards the house, I pulled my phone up and proceeded to finish my phone call. At that moment, had I noticed the massive, growling zombie-looking thing on my front porch...then I would have made an effort to divert to another point of entry. This, my friends, is what you get for laughing at those less fortunate than you.
As my foot touched the first step of the front porch, not only did the stench of decomposing flesh attack me...but this extremely unattractive mold of grey matter and bloody tissue lunged for me with a disturbing "gurgle" sound. My breath came barreling out of my throat with a "ugh" sound. I felt as if I was flying through the air at the speed of light. I had no clue where my phone went. It left my hand as soon as 'Mr. Clean' pulled his acrobatic stunt.
I landed on my side, one arm pinned underneath my hip and the other arm was wedged between me and my attacker. I felt my lungs collapse due to the vice grip around me and maybe a rib or two snapped. I don't really remember a whole lot of details about our struggle. I do remember the idea that I was losing. I can't recall at what point my sense of pride kicked in...but I was NOT going to die by the hand of something with the brain capacity of a piece of fruit. I managed to get my foot and leg unwrapped from the monster and did the only thing I could think of in this situation. I could tell that whatever it was, had to be male..so I pulled my knee up to my chest with as much force as I could muster. At the same time…I gathered all the strength I could find and used it to push up and roll to my back, taking the gravy train with me.
Whatever choreography that I somehow managed to execute…it worked! I had enough room to maneuver myself away from the attacker and scramble to my feet. I scanned the ground within seconds in hopes that I would catch a glimpse of where my phone had landed, but it was too dark for me to focus fast enough. In less than a second, I was running towards the front porch with only one thing on my mind. I had to get to my spare bedroom.
Now..at this point…I have realized that the spare bedroom is not the smartest place to keep your firearms. Especially when the spare bedroom is located at the dead end of the hallway. *Note to self: find a different place to keep your self defense weapons. I was running through the front door when I realized that I was in a ridiculous amount of pain. At that point I had to concentrate on other things..so I pushed it out of my head. I could be a wimp later, and at this point..I just wanted to survive long enough to enjoy “later.” I immediately ran to the back bedroom and pulled the closet door open, took a deep breath and cussed to myself. *Note: when faced with a life or death situation, it is not easy to remember, nor key in the stupid combination to the gun safe. I am realizing exactly how easy I have made it for someone or something to kill me in my own home.
After the second attempt and many colorful expletives, the door to the safe opened and I swear I heard the hallelujah chorus. At this point, all of the Angelina Jolie movies I had seen came to mind. I grabbed my 9mm Beretta checked the clip, loaded the barrel and shoved it in the back of my jeans. Opened a box of hollow points and threw what I could into my front pocket, realizing that this would be a great time to have an extra clip to hold another set of rounds. I picked up a box of buckshot and immediately cussed. Four shells? Really? UGH!.. I yanked the 12 Ga Mossberg Pump out of the safe and started loading my four pitiful shells into the beast of a gun. This should be fun.
Now…all I had to do was make it to the car. No problem! So, why did I feel like GI Jane on her first mission?