Zombie Rules | Book 8 | Who The Hell Is That?

by Achord, David

  Nikki grunted. Fred scanned the area while the horses pawed at the ground and ate the sparse amount of grass they uncovered. After a moment, he turned to her.

  “This isn’t something I can teach you. It’s called intuition. I guess I’ve had it since I was a kid. My father pointed it out to me when he was teaching me about horses.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “Even though I was young, I was able to tell immediately when a horse was about to throw a hissy fit and I was able to calm them down. It’s the same with shooting. Sure, I’ve put in hours and hours of practice, but I have an intuitive ability to put a bullet where I want it to go.” He turned his head and stared at her a moment.

  “Do you drink and smoke that weed?” he asked.

  “Sometimes,” she admitted.

  “Well, I used to drink. My first wife put a stop to it. That’s probably the only reason why I still have good intuition. These days it’s saved my bacon more than once. I’m not saying you should quit, but don’t let it get the better of you.”

  “You’re saying your intuition is telling you the zeds are waiting for us?” Nikki asked.

  “Not only waiting for us, but they’re also searching for us. I don’t know why. Maybe they don’t want anyone to know that so many of them are out here.”

  Nikki considered what he said for a moment before responding. “But zeds don’t think at that level, right? That’s what I’ve been taught.”

  “That’s how they used to be. They used to have a simple, primitive aggression. Kill and eat. Nowadays, they’re doing a lot more.”

  “So, what do we do?” she asked.

  “There’s too many of them to confront them. I don’t believe you’re going to like what I believe we’re going to have to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re going to have to abandon the truck and ride back on the horses,” Fred said.

  Nikki’s eyes widened. “Wait a sec, that’s about a seventy-mile ride, right?”

  “Yep,” Fred answered. He then stood and stretched. “Get some sleep. We’re going to have a long couple of days ahead of us.”

  Chapter 33 – A Cold Night for an Oil Change

  “It’s cold,” Nikki said between chattering teeth.

  In addition to being fully clothed and wearing her overcoat, Fred had given her the blankets to wrap herself in so she could sleep, but it didn’t work.

  “Back before either of us were born, Buddhist monks in Tibet learned how to raise their body temperature and could sit outside in the freezing cold without succumbing to hypothermia. The scientists called it neuroplasticity. It’s the ability to change the neuron pathways in the brain. You can do a lot of things if you master it. Before you ask, I haven’t mastered it.”

  “So, you’re saying if I meditate, I’ll get hot?”

  “That’s what they did,” Fred said. “I can do it, to a small extent. You can train yourself to do it too.”

  “How do you do it?” she asked.

  “You have to will your body to relax and eliminate distracting thoughts. It is a good tool for a number of reasons. There are a few books back at the Mount Weather Library. I would encourage you to read them.”

  “Alright, but I’m not a good reader. Remember that professor I told you about? She said I had the reading level of a ten-year-old.”

  “We can work with that, if you’re willing,” Fred said.

  “Yeah.” She would have said more, but she was too cold. She rubbed herself under the blankets. “I’m colder than a penguin’s pecker. That’s what my stepfather would say when he was cold.”

  “You ever seen a penguin?” Fred asked.

  “Just pictures in a book. They live at the North Pole, right?”

  “South Pole, mostly. Why don’t you try to meditate?”

  Nikki tried to concentrate and think warm thoughts, but after a couple of minutes decided it was impossible. She changed the subject.

  “When is the last time you missed?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That big zed. Your bullet caught him on the side of the head, but for you, that counts as a clean miss.”

  “Yeah,” Fred said after a moment.

  “So, when’s the last time?”

  “I think I was fifteen,” Fred said.

  Nikki stared in the dark. “You were fifteen-years-old the last time you missed what you were aiming for?”

  “Sounds about right.” He paused another long moment before speaking again. “I think I’m losing my edge.”

  Nikki thought she heard a slight amount of dejection in his voice. “I don’t think so. I think you may have injured your hand in that fight and it’s affecting your aim.”

  “I suppose it’s possible, but I’ve been in fights before and never had any problem shooting the next day.”

  “The winter cold might have something to do with it too. Do you get in a lot of fights?” she asked.

  Fred grunted. “I guess I did back when I was a younger man. I did bronc riding in a rodeo circuit. I did trick shooting too. That was in between semesters of school. I got in my share of fights both with cowboys and frat boys.”

  Nikki gave a clipped chuckle. “I bet you were something else.”

  “I certainly thought I was. Eventually, I grew up, got married, started a business, and had a kid. A daughter. She would’ve been a few years older than you.”

  He paused a few seconds before speaking again. “She had a reading disability. When she was a child, I bought some children’s books and had her read me stories every night at bedtime. It seemed to work out.”

  “So, I’m going to read you bedtime stories?” Nikki asked.

  Fred grunted. “Not like that, but we can work on it. I’ll have you reading at a college level in no time.”

  “Is it true you went all the way to Los Angeles to find her, and you did, and that she was infected?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you killed her,” she said.

  “Yep. Let’s change the subject.”

  “Oh, okay. Sorry.”

  “It’s going to be a hard ride back,” Fred said.

  “How long?”

  “If it were only Aisha and me, we could make it back in a day and a half. It’s a little too far for Leeroy, so two days, minimum. And we shouldn’t ride at night, not with the way these zeds are behaving. We’ll have to take breaks to allow them to eat and drink. Yeah, a solid two days.”

  “What does your intuition say about the weather?” Nikki asked.

  “What does yours say?”

  “I think it’s going to be cold as a penguin’s pecker at the South Pole,” she said.

  “Yep.”

  She was about to say something else but paused and cocked her head. Fred saw her and waited for her to say something.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked.

  Fred had to admit he did not, but his hearing was not the best anymore.

  “It sounded like, I don’t know, it sounded like ice crunching,” she said.

  Fred was instantly up. He edged over to the bay door and peered out one of the broken windows. Nikki was right behind him. She crouched down where she was at his knees and leaned against his leg to peer out. They both saw the zeds at the same time and jerked back. They were several yards down the road, but they were slowly moving toward their location.

  “How are they still moving in the freezing cold? I thought they couldn’t do that?” Nikki asked.

  “We can figure it out later,” Fred whispered back. “Right now, we need to get out of here before they surround us and make life difficult.”

  They packed their blankets and saddled the horses as quietly as they could and mounted up. The bay door on the opposite side had a long rope still attached at the bottom. Fred retrieved it, slid the bolt open, and remounted before focusing on Nikki in the dark.

  “The plan is to head west. Shoot only if you have to. We have to stick together, but if we can’t, head back
home. If I’m alive, I’ll find you.”

  Nikki nodded. Although she was young, she did not scare easily, but she was scared now. She watched as Fred yanked the bay door up and followed him as Aisha sprinted out. She did not even need to prod Leeroy. He was right behind her.

  It was immediately clear if they had waited one more minute, they would have been surrounded. Like Fred said, the zeds knew they were there. Nikki saw at least a dozen working their way toward the quick-lube business they were fleeing from and a dozen more coming up from the opposite end of the street. The zeds were lunging for them as they ran by and they both had to kick the zeds off multiple times. After approximately a mile, they stopped the horses in what appeared to have been a children’s park at one time. After listening and scanning the best they could in the darkness, they dismounted.

  “We’ll stay here a minute to let them rest, but we’re going to need to walk a while,” Fred whispered.

  Nikki watched as Leeroy began pawing at the snow to get at the grass beneath. Both horses were breathing heavily. To Nikki, it sounded loud enough to be heard for miles around.

  “Both of them are tired and hungry,” she exclaimed.

  “We’ll have to be easy on them,” Fred said. “That’ll mean we’re going to have to do a lot of walking instead of riding. It’s going to wear us out too.”

  “Mister Fred, I’m a little scared,” Nikki said.

  “Me too,” Fred said.

  Nikki’s eyes widened in the dark. “You are? Bullshit.”

  “Fear is a natural emotion. If you control it, it keeps the mind sharp.”

  “Okay, but I’m still not sure I believe you. I don’t think anything frightens you.”

  Fred surprised her by emitting a slight chuckle. “If you only knew. Alright, they have their wind back, mostly. We need to get going.”

  Chapter 34 – Trading Post Business

  The ice had caused Johnny G and Riley to stay at the warehouse in Wilmington for an extra two days. During that time, they were able to explore the area without threat of hostiles. They successfully found several items they could use back at Hook and items that could be used for barter.

  On the second night, after another marathon sex session, Johnny G was lying on his back and Riley was by his side with a leg draped over his lower torso. She slowly stroked his chest, and soon her hand made its way south where she began fondling him.

  “You’re insatiable,” Johnny G muttered.

  Riley emitted something that might’ve resembled a giggle. “I can’t help it.”

  Johnny G grunted. “I don’t think I have it in me.”

  She lightly slapped him on the chest. “You’re no fun.”

  After a minute or two of silence, he felt like he could safely fall asleep, but it was not to be.

  “Do you like me, Johnny?” she asked.

  Here it comes, he thought. He learned quickly that Riley needed constant affirmation, and if she didn’t get it, her mood darkened. She could sulk and pout all day.

  “Absolutely,” he said. “More and more every day.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. You know, I’ve noticed something about us.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “We get along. What I mean is, we don’t argue, and our conversations are nice. Years ago, I dated a woman that looked a little bit like you. She was pretty, but she would argue with anything I said. I ended it after a couple of months.”

  “Was she prettier than me?” Riley asked.

  “Oh, hell no,” he quickly replied. “You’re much prettier.”

  “Thanks, baby,” she said and then reached back down and began stroking his penis. “Round two?”

  The next morning, Johnny G was surprised that he was the first to wake up. He crawled out from under the warm blankets and was hit by frigid air. The fire in the stove had gone out during the night, which he figured would happen because there was not a dampener in the flue. He also suspected there was little in the way of insulation in this building. It was originally a warehouse after all.

  He hurriedly dressed and walked over to the only window in the room. Pulling aside the blackout curtains, he peered outside. He heard Riley stirring and looked over. She had the blankets pulled up to her chin.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “It’s cold. How’s the weather outside?”

  “It’s sunny. I don’t know if it’s going to get above freezing, but the sun certainly helps,” he said and walked over to the stove. It took him a few minutes before he got a flame going. He tossed a couple of small split logs in before closing the door.

  “It’s going to take a few before the fire catches and we get some heat,” he said.

  “Sounds like you need to get back under the covers where it’s warm,” she said, grinned and pulled the blankets down slightly, exposing her breasts. After some more beckoning, she persuaded Johnny G to yank his clothes back off and crawl in.

  After, the two of them lay on their back, panting heavily.

  “We need to go back today,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m the number two man at Hook and I’m already two days behind in my work.”

  Riley blew a raspberry between her lips. “You don’t know how to have fun.”

  It took some prodding and badgering, but he managed to get Riley moving and they were on the road two hours later. They drove cautiously and arrived back at Marcus Hook before sundown. They separated, with Riley going to find her father and Johnny G finding Roscoe in his office. He looked up from something he was reading.

  “How was your vacation?” he asked with a grin.

  “Funny,” Johnny G replied and sat opposite him. “Do you have anything to drink?”

  Roscoe reached down and came up with a bottle of Jack Daniels. He poured a generous amount into two coffee mugs and pushed one of them over to Johnny G. He nodded. Roscoe had a case of Gentlemen Jack hidden away somewhere and only occasionally drank it. He was trying to make it last until someone down in Lynchburg, Tennessee, reopened the distillery.

  “Thanks. I’m drained.”

  “I bet,” Roscoe said. “So, tell me all about it.”

  Up until now, Roscoe only suspected the Fitzgeralds’ involvement in the murders, but now Johnny G told him everything, except for Riley’s unquenchable sex drive. Roscoe listened thoughtfully while he sipped his whiskey.

  “So, all they’ll ever have is circumstantial evidence, that being they were on the road at the same time as Rochelle and the Lillard women,” Roscoe surmised.

  “Yeah,” Johnny G said. “What do you think? Was it right or wrong of me to help destroy the evidence?”

  “Only time will tell, I suppose. Don’t get me wrong, I do not condone cold blooded murder,” Roscoe said. “But we were not complicit in the murders, nor did we know they would do this. We were only complicit after the fact. Did she ever give a reason why they did it?”

  “Nope. I could’ve asked her, but I didn’t.”

  “Hmm. Well, I know if this blows up on us, I know you’ll make the necessary corrections,” Roscoe said.

  “Yes, I will,” Johnny G promised.

  “Alright, now let’s talk more about this trading post. It’s an idea I’ve thought about from time to time,” Roscoe admitted, “but the diesel production and our crop and livestock management have stretched our manpower. Plus, the construction of the safe road into Philadelphia has been extremely laborious.”

  “We’ll start seeing it pay off when we start scavenging in earnest,” Johnny G said. “I dare say we’ll find a lot of bartering goods and perhaps we’ll find pockets of survivors we’ve not encountered before. Now that we’re producing an abundance of diesel, I’m certain we can use it as leverage to recruit more people.”

  “Yes indeed,” Roscoe said. “While you were gone, I sent them off with a tanker filled with diesel and parked it on South Dupont Boulevard. There’s a sign on it telling anybody who comes along where w
e’re located. We’ll put a few more out when the weather permits.”

  “That’s great,” Johnny G said.

  Roscoe set his glass down and leaned back in his chair. “Let me ask you something. What if we asked them to build this trading post closer to home?”