by Derek Slaton
CHAPTER THREE
“You gotta be fucking shitting me, dude,” Ace blurted, staring wide-eyed at the police station across the street.
They knelt under cover, staying out of sight just in case the QXR guys came rolling by.
“Look at the parking lot,” Dante said quietly. “Plenty of police cars, and chances are they’re going to have the keys locked up in there. Plus, they might have some weapons, which we could really use right now.”
Ace scrubbed his hands down his face. “Yeah, all right,” he finally agreed. “Let’s get this over with.”
They looked both ways and then broke from cover, rushing across the street to the station. They paused at the front, looking through the swinging doors that were unlocked. There were some dried bloodstains on the window.
“I don’t remember that from before,” Ace muttered.
Dante chewed his lip. “Me either,” he agreed.
They slipped inside, on guard in case of an attack. They reached the front lobby before working their way back to the control room just off of the main area.
Dante checked the monitors, seeing the cells where Brandt and the other officer had been locked up. Dante shook his head at the sight of a dozen zombies crowded around it.
“Didn’t take those things very long to find ‘em,” Dante muttered.
“Good, that son of a bitch deserves to feel scared,” Ace declared.
Dante looked over the monitors, checking all of the hallways and finding them clear, with all the zombie activity in the back cell area. “You have any idea where the weapon lockup is?” he asked.
Ace shook his head before looking on the wall by the desk. There was a printout of a map of the building, though there wasn’t a listing for an armory.
“Gotta be the supply room, don’t it?” the redneck asked, tapping his finger over the listing for a supply room.
“Even if it isn’t, can’t hurt to check it out,” Dante replied with a shrug. “Come on.”
They headed down the hallway towards the storage room, taking special care at every intersection and office door to make sure there weren’t any stragglers hanging about.
Finally they made it to the back hallway that led to the storage area, finding one lone zombie lingering towards the back. Not wanting the noise of firing a gun, Dante looked around, spotting a fire extinguisher on the wall.
He removed it from the moorings and readied it, and he and Ace shared a nod before creeping forward.
The zombie was transfixed on its reflection in the storage room glass, occasionally attacking it like a confused cat when it moved. The duo moved quietly and were able to get right close to it without the ghoul knowing they were there.
Dante smacked it in the side of the head with the extinguisher, sending it to the ground in a heap. He slammed the heavy unit down into its head a few more times, just to be sure.
As he did so, Ace kept his gun aimed, watching down the hallway just to make sure they didn’t attract any attention. Nothing appeared, and he relaxed.
“We’re good,” he said, lowering his gun.
Dante nodded, setting down the extinguisher. “Then let’s get our stuff and get on our way,” he said, and reached for the door handle. He pushed it down and pulled, but the door was locked. He tried a few more times and then grunted in frustration when he realized there was an electronic keypad next to the door.
“Damn,” he said.
Ace grinned and knocked on the glass panel of the door. “Don't worry, I’m pretty sure we can get in,” he said.
Dante shook his head. “You can try, but I doubt it,” he replied.
Ace smirked as he picked up the bloody fire extinguisher. He readied it before slamming the big red metal container into the glass. It reverberated up his arms, and he poured every bit of power he had into it. He smacked it a few more times before stopping, bewildered.
“Well, shit,” he muttered.
Dante pressed his face against the glass, straining to see what was inside. The light was off, but there was a small skylight at the top of the wall, illuminating the room just enough to show off some SWAT type equipment.
“Looks like it’s the room we need,” he said, “which explains why that glass is going to be unbreakable with what we have.”
Ace sighed. “Well, what the fuck are we gonna do, then?” he asked.
Dante took a deep breath and then fixed the redneck with a look that spoke volumes. That look said I’m sorry, and we don’t have a choice.
Ace groaned, shoulder slumping. “Goddammit, we gotta go save that asshole Brandt, don’t we?” he whined.
“If anybody is going to know how to get in there, it’s going to be him,” Dante said.
“Well, I’ve already lost my new dirt bike, so this is par for the course today,” Ace grumbled. “Come on, let’s do it.”
The duo headed down the hallway towards the cells and paused at the supply room doors where they’d been ambushed by Brandt and his men a few days prior. Dante headed into one, rummaging around for anything that could be useful against an army of zombies. Nothing in the room was going to help them out in any significant way, as it was all office type stuff.
“Well, maybe we could paper cut ‘em to death?” Ace joked, picking up a stack of printer paper.
Dante didn’t respond, still looking around and spotting a wooden-handled mop in the corner. He walked over to it and gave it a forceful kick, snapping it in two. He tossed the new spear over to Ace.
“You think you can take those things out with that?” he asked.
The redneck inspected it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, maybe one, before they tackle me.”
Dante headed back to the corner and broke two more handles, tossing them over as well.
Ace rolled his eyes after catching them all. “Great, now I can kill one of them three times before I get tackled,” he drawled.
Dante patted him on the shoulder as he passed by. “You aren’t going to have to worry about that,” he said, and leaned over to grab the dead officer from the center of the hall, dragging him along.
“No, that’s not concerning at all,” Ace muttered, confused as he followed.
Dante led them down the hallway to where the cells were, stopping at the door leading towards them. He got a good grip on the corpse and lifted it up, pressing it against the door before letting out a yell.
The zombies by the cell mostly broke away, rushing for Dante. They hit the corpse hard, but he was able to hold them in place.
Ace gaped at the scene, and his companion grunted, inclining his head towards him.
“Start stabbing!” Dante barked.
The redneck shook himself back into the moment and started attacking. He aimed and thrust one of the spears into an eye socket, dropping the ghoul to the ground. Before he could ready another strike, another zombie was there.
He stabbed again, but missed badly, taking the ear off of one of the creatures. Another managed to smack the weapon away, forcing him to grab another one.
This time his aim was on target, dropping another, but the spike lodged itself in its skull.
“Shit, I’m down to one!” Ace cried.
Dante struggled to hold the zombies back, taking a deep breath. “Well make it count!” he instructed through his teeth.
Ace struck a couple more times, taking out two but losing the weapon on the next strike. There were still five zombies trying to force their way past Dante.
“Shit!” the redneck exclaimed, and hesitated, trying to think of what to do next. Finally he pulled out his gun, looking to his companion for guidance.
Dante gave him a nod, ducking his head.
Ace cocked the hammer back and aimed, pulling the trigger only when he was confident of a kill shot. He repeated this multiple times until the threat had been neutralized.
His partner finally dropped the officer corpse, stretching his shoulders to relieve some of the fatigue. As he did, Ace walked into the room and stepped over to
the last remaining ghouls still trying to get into the jail cell. He executed them both at point blank range, finally getting rid of the threat altogether.
The duo stood outside of the jail cell, seeing both Brandt and his officer stretched out by the back, sitting on the mattress for a bit of cushion.
“Well, well,” the Sheriff drawled, “I was wondering when one of you boys would wise up and come get us.”
Ace sneered. “Sorry to disappoint you there, chief,” he said, “but we’re just here for some supplies.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Brandt said with a smirk.
The redneck shrugged. “Doubt it all you want, bubba.”
The Sheriff shook his head and stood up, walking over to the bars close to the men. “Nah, if you were here for supplies, you would have just taken them and ran,” he said, and then paused for a moment, thinking. “Oh, you’re not here for supplies… you’re here for supplies.” He barked a laugh. “Had a little trouble getting into the room, did you?”
“I’m guessing you know how to get us into that room?” Dante asked, crossing his arms.
Brandt nodded. “Oh, that’s for sure, but it’s gonna cost you,” he replied.
“Why does that not surprise me?” Dante asked, rolling his eyes.
The Sheriff crossed his arms, leaning casually on the bars. “Well, for starters, you’re going to get me and my friend Officer Henson here out of this hellhole,” he said.
“You know how to pick a lock?” Ace asked with a shrug. “Because we don’t have keys.”
Brandt pointed to the cell across the way from them. “If there’s something in the toilet, you can blame your idiot friend Maddox,” he drawled. “He’s the one who tossed it in there.”
Ace and Dante looked at each other, and without saying a word, they both extended their fists and launched into an immediate game of rock, paper, scissors. Ace threw rock, and Dante threw paper.
“Damn!” the redneck cried. “Best two out of three?” he asked hopefully.
Dante raised his hands. “I think I’m good, man,” he replied.
Ace hung his head before heading into the cell and looking down into the toilet. He let out a deep sigh of relief when he saw only water—or at least what he hoped was water, and reached in. He felt around in the pipe and plucked the keys, shaking them dry before tossing them over to his companion.
Dante caught them, wrinkling his nose when he felt they were still wet. “Thanks for that,” he said.
“My pleasure,” Ace replied with a grin.
Dante turned to Brandt, who stood on the other side of the bars, putting on a stoic face.
“Here’s the deal,” Dante said, pointing at him. “I’m going to let you out of here, you’re going to get us into the supply room, and we’re both going to wake what we need and then go our separate ways.”
The Sheriff shook his head. “Sorry, but I’m going to need more than that.”
“Afraid we don’t have much else to give at this point,” Dante replied.
“Oh, you do,” Brandt said with a sneer. “You’re going to tell me where Maddox is.”
Ace stalked towards the cell, fists clenched. “Fuck you, man!” he snarled.
Dante held up his palm to calm down his friend. “Sorry Sheriff, but we have enough people trying to kill us, without adding you to the mix,” he said.
“You boys out there making friends, I see,” Brandt said tightly.
“Something like that,” Dante replied. “So that’s off the table, however, I’m willing to honor the deal I offered you.”
The Sheriff contemplated for a moment, and then glanced back at Henson, who looked gaunt and a little worse for wear. He gave his superior a weak thumbs up.
“Okay,” Brandt said with a sigh, “you have a deal.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“So, why did you come back here for all this shit, anyway?” Brandt asked as they headed down the hallway to the supply room.
Dante and Ace, walking behind the officers, shared a glance.
“They’re gonna find out anyway,” the redneck said.
Dante sighed. “QXR group is in town,” he replied. “We led them here to keep them away from where we are holed up, and they’re combing the town for us. We’re probably going to have to fight our way out.”
The Sheriff wrinkled his nose, whirling on them and stopping short. “QXR? Those bad boys are after you?” He smirked.
“Before you even think about it,” Dante said, pointing a finger at him, “they’re not going to care whether you give us up or not. They’ll just kill all four of us, put us down like dogs.”
Brandt pursed his lips.
“He ain’t jokin’,” Ace added. “If you wanna walk out there with your hands up and offer yourself to them, go for it, cuz I would be happy to see ‘em make you into swiss cheese.”
Henson paled even further than he already was. “I don’t want to get mixed up with those guys,” he said hoarsely.
“You either help us get out of town, or you die,” Dante said with a shrug. “It’s not a threat, it’s just the facts.”
The Sheriff grunted and turned back towards the supply room, leading them down the hall. When he reached the keypad, he typed in the code quickly and the light on the top went green. When he reached for the handle, Ace smacked his hand away.
“Yeah, I don’t think so, we’re getting suited up first,” the redneck declared.
Brandt clucked his tongue and stepped back, leaning against the wall with Henson as Ace rummaged around in the storage room. He tossed out a vest and a shotgun to Dante, and he geared himself up.
“Can we trust you?” Ace asked as he handed some vests out the door to the Sheriff, and he rolled his eyes.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he drawled. “You don’t trust my word, so you’re gonna have to decide for yourself.”
The redneck clenched his jaw and handed over two shotguns, glaring daggers at him in warning.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Brandt shot back as he strapped on the vest. “What if your QXR story is bullshit?”
Ace rolled his eyes. “If it was, we wouldn’t have given you any weapons or gear. Your asses would be going right back in that cell,” he said, and held up a hand. “As a matter of fact, we wouldn’t even be here. So I think you can trust that.”
Henson took in a ragged breath as he donned his vest. “Do you guys have any food?” he asked hoarsely.
Dante cocked a brow and pulled a granola bar out of his pocket, tossing it over.
Brandt glanced at Ace, but the redneck shook his head.
“Hell no, mine is chocolate-covered, I ain’t sharing shit,” he drawled.
Henson broke his in half and handed it to the Sheriff, and he wrinkled his nose as he looked it over, then stuffed it into his mouth.
“Let’s get this over with,” he mumbled through a mouthful of oats, and pushed off of the wall.
The unlikely quartet headed back to the front entrance, and Dante pressed himself against the wall to peek out the window and make sure they were alone. There was no movement outside, not even a zombie, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
“See anything?” Ace asked.
He shook his head. “No, but I have a bad feeling,” he admitted.
“Let’s go!” Brandt demanded. “If they didn’t see you come in, they don’t know you’re here, let’s get the fuck out so we can go our own way.”
Dante nodded reluctantly, peering around once again just to be sure. He opened the door slowly, inch by inch, and then slipped out, head on a swivel to scan the area for enemies. But it seemed that the Sheriff was right for once, and they were in the clear.
He waved for Ace to follow, and the other three filed out into the parking lot. They hadn’t gotten three steps before a gunshot cracked, and a bullet buried itself into Henson’s head, dropping him to the ground.
The remaining trio dove behind a police car as bullets pinged off of the building, and Dante curse
d under his breath.
I fucking told you, he wanted to scream at the Sheriff. I told you they’d kill you on sight, and I told you that I had a bad feeling! But it was no use and wouldn’t do any good in their situation.
“Where are they coming from?” Ace asked, as he tried to peer up through a window, but only succeeded in ducking as glass shattered above their heads.
Dante shook his head. “Too far away to take out with a damn shotgun,” he said. They looked left and right, hoping that there would be cover to get them to better cover, but the row of cars ended and there was nothing but open parking lot.
The roar of an engine approached, and a black SUV came screaming into the lot, somebody hanging out of the window with an assault rifle.
Dante popped up and fired, ducking back down quickly without waiting to see what he’d hit. By the sound of shattering glass, he’d hit the vehicle, and with no return fire, he hoped that meant that he caught the gunman with the blast.
“What did you morons do to these guys?” Brandt barked.
“Just tried to breathe the same air,” Dante grunted, and at the sound of a car door opening, he popped up again. This time, Ace jumped up with him, and they fired quickly on the vehicle.
Somebody screamed, and more glass shattered. Dante reloaded and peered around the hood of their cover car, and spotted a mercenary running over from the trees, skidding behind the SUV. He aimed the shotgun, waiting for a head to pop up, but there was nothing but the sound of low voices hissing.
He fired at the closest tire, blasting it to shreds. A black blur popped up over the hood and fired on him. When his attacker ducked down, they heard footsteps and moans, and Ace cursed under his breath.
“A loud-ass gunfight in the middle of the zombie apocalypse,” he muttered. “Great fucking idea.”
Dante pulled out his handgun as the footsteps got closer. “This could work to our advantage,” he said quietly. “Just have to be careful.”
As he’d anticipated, panic fire erupted from behind the SUV, as the remaining mercenaries fired on the approaching zombies.
