The Good, The Bad, And The Undead : A zombie Apocalypse (The Wild Wild Midwest Book 1)
Page 13
"That's an approximate mileage, and even if you're just idling, you'll still use fuel." People often go off of the miles left gauge. I constantly stress to my customers it's an estimate, and they can't count on it being accurate to the mile.
"I wish I'd known that." He sits down at the table and sips his coffee. He wrinkles his nose and pushes the cup away.
Okaaay? "We have tea if you'd like." I point at the tea bags and kettle on the counter.
"Honey, be a dear, and get some for me," Jasmine says. She pulls out her cell phone, makes those stupid duck lips, and takes a selfie.
I want to ask her why on this zombie-infested earth would she take a selfie. The internet is down, and even if we can somehow get back on, there's no one left alive to comment on it. It's all I can do to not rip that oversized phone from her hands and toss it out the door. I don't though. But I really, really want to.
He lets out a sigh that's so loud I look to see if the window is open. It reminds me of a whale surfacing in the ocean. I just want to make sure he didn’t alert the gabbies to our location with that monstrous sigh of his. He fills the kettle and turns on the gas burner. "Do you have any other tea than this stuff in the box?"
"Nope." And even if I did, I wouldn’t share it with you because you’re rude. I take another drink of coffee. It's not bad. I let the robust taste roll around in my mouth. These two are spoiled brats. Sebastian drops a tea bag into the cup and fills it with hot water.
He turns to me when he finishes. "Can you escort us to our room? I'm exhausted."
"Sure. Would you like me to turn down your bed and put a mint on your pillow?" I say in a sickeningly sweet voice.
"I don't need candy. Just a warm place to rest." He was serious. He didn't catch my sarcasm.
"Sure. Follow me."
14
I should've let Sebastian and Jasmine freeze outside. Letting them into our group is a big mistake. Even Helga, who is not in her right mind, pulls more duty than them. While they are resting, I have a talk with everyone about our new guests. “As soon as the snow melts, we're dropping them off at the safe zone," I say.
"Good. He asked me to get him some clean sheets. After I gave him some, he asked if I'd make the bed for him," Star says.
Joey furrows his brows, and his face turns pink. "You didn't, did you?"
"No. I said this isn't a five-star hotel. Everyone has to pitch in. He harrumphed. I didn't know people actually did that." Star crosses her arms over her chest. "Oh, and I asked Jasmine what her last name was, and she said, ‘Honeysuckle, haven't you seen me on instaphoto?’ I told her I was too busy for nonsense and didn't waste my time on social media. I'm not catering to those two." Star plops her butt down on the couch. Wow, I've never seen her act this way before. Jasmine must have really pissed her off.
"I, for one, think she's hot," Vinny says.
"You would," Daria retorts.
"Okay, everyone. Let's just simmer down. They're our guests for the next few days, and I think we can all get along. Sebastian just lost his mother today," Dean says.
I think back to the way he was acting. Was it all a show so he wouldn't have to deal with his feelings? Possibly. "I'll give them another chance, but only one," I say.
It's starting to snow again. I'm relieved because it's covering our tracks. After Dean and my watch, we go downstairs and play cards with Star, Joey. Mrs. Garcia, Ben, and Helga. We decide on Go Fish.
Mrs. Garcia makes hot chocolate, and we sit in front of the fireplace. The living room is toasty and the warmest room in the house. Four inches of snow blanket the ground. We always get one last snow before spring. Sometimes we even get snow in May. I hope this isn't one of those years.
"What do you think those gun store guys are doing?" Ben asks.
"They're probably trying to keep warm," Mrs. Garcia says as she puts her arm around him. "Does anyone want any chili? I have some leftover."
Mrs. Garcia made a big pot for dinner, filled with three different beans, ground beef, and spices. She also served tamales and macaroni and cheese. Everyone, including Sebastian and Jasmine, ate two or more bowls.
"I'm stuffed. Your chili hit the spot," Dean says as he rubs his stomach. He had four helpings. Even though he's thin, the man can put away the food. If I ate the way he does, I'd weigh three hundred pounds.
"Do you have any fives?" I ask Star.
She looks through her cards. "Nope. Go fish."
I pick up a two and shake my head.
A crackling noise comes over the radio. "We have movement. Three cars are heading this way. Nope, make that five cars, I can see the gabbie hood ornaments," Vinny says.
We put on our coats and hats. It's still an icy cold twenty-some degrees. We head outside to greet our guests.
"Stick with the plan," Dean says.
Star and Daria wait behind some trees for cover, aiming their rifles at the caravan heading our way.
Dean, Joey, Vinny, and I walk to the end of the street. We're armed with our assault rifles, and I have my grenade launcher stashed under a bush not far from where we stand. If things go bad, they go boom.
All five vehicles stop in the correct spot, and two men from the lead vehicle get out. One is older with long, stringy, gray hair and a beard. The other is about my age. He's wearing a dirty camouflaged baseball cap. Both are carrying shotguns.
Dean steps forward. "Can I help you gentleman?"
They laugh. The older one turns to his friend, "He called us gentlemen."
I raise my rifle up an inch. My skin feels itchy and tight, a bead of sweat forms on my forehead despite the frigid temperatures.
"What do you want?" Dean says with more force.
"We just wanted to greet our neighbors. Howdy neighbor." He smiles, but it's greasy with evil looking thin lips.
"Did you pull the sheriff down?" the younger one asks.
"We did," Dean says.
"You owe us a victim. He was going to be our entertainment." He glances my way. I pull up my MK-47 so it's ready to fire. These two show no fear, which worries me. Either they're insane, stupid, or they have something up their sleeve.
"Leave now, and you’ll live. If not, you become our entertainment," Joey says. Wow, I've never seen Joey kick into badass mode, and he's owning it. I want to yell "yeah" but I don't. I keep my mouth shut like we all discussed when we prepped for this.
The younger one chuckles. "This is our town now. Either you join us, or you die. It's as simple as that."
"What about the safe zone? Do they have to join you, too?" Vinny asks.
"We have plans for them," the younger one says. The older one smacks him across the face. Apparently, it was a secret he didn't want blabbed.
"Last chance. Leave or die," Joey says again. His back gets even straighter.
The older one raises his shotgun. "You’re the one who's dying today."
Things happen fast.
Dean and Joey dive behind a cluster of trees to the right. Vinny and I dart behind a car to the left.
Vinny presses a button on a device, and the lead car explodes, taking out the two idiots we were talking to. Pieces of glass and metal fly into the air.
I aim my grenade launcher. I hit the second vehicle, and it bursts into flames. Bullets splinter the bark on the tree in front of me. I aim at the next vehicle and boom! Fire and body parts fling out from the broken glass windows. My ears hurt from the continuous gunfire.
Vinny hits another button on his remote. A loud boom sounds right before the fourth vehicle is no more.
Four men load into the last truck. Bullets pelt the quarter panel, making perfect little holes. I line up the shot with my grenade launcher. I squeeze the trigger, and a whoomph sounds. The grenade shoots out and hits the truck cab. Boom. Fire erupts in the cab. A man jumps out screaming. Flames are flaring from his back. Joey shoots him in the head instead of letting him burn to death.
We stay in our spots for a couple of minutes, waiting in case there are any stragglers.
Everyone comes out from hiding. There's blood on the ground by Dean and Joey. I run over there.
A tingling shoots up my back, and my heartbeat kicks into full acceleration. "Who's hurt?"
"A bullet grazed my arm. I'm fine," Joey says.
"Have Star clean that up. You don't want an infection," I say.
"He's fine," Dean says.
"Are you hurt?" I ask him.
"Nope. We should take a look to see if there are any survivors." He stands from his crouch and grunts. The cold air is taking its toll on his bad knee.
We walk to the vehicles where the fires are burning. Charred remains curl inside the trucks. A soul-sucking hole forms in my gut. What a useless waste. These men were part of the last of the human race, and they wanted to pillage the town and torture innocent people. The new age of piracy.
"They're going to retaliate. They're going to hit us with everything they've got," Vinny says.
"We'll be ready," Joey says.
“I'm not so sure. What if they sneak past our lookouts and attack when we're the most vulnerable? We should move. We should pack everything up and head north," Dean says.
"I'm staying right here. It's a matter of principle. This is my land, and I'm going to defend it. Besides, if we don't take them down, they'll hurt other people," Joey says.
"What do you think they meant when they said they had plans for the safe zone?" I ask.
"Who knows? But we still need to warn the people. We have no idea how many men are in that gun shop. They could have fifty or a hundred," Dean says.
"We need intel," I say.
"How many tarps do we have?" Dean asks while looking at the smoldering mess on the street.
"I've collected three from the area. What do you want to do with the bodies? When the weather warms up, they may attract the gabbies," Vinny says
"We don't know if the zombies will reanimate after they thaw," Dean says.
Star runs over to us, carrying her medical bag. "Joey, you're hurt." She probes his jacket where he's bleeding.
"Tis only a scratch, Milady," he says in a British accent.
"You're coming with me." She grabs his other arm and leads him toward the house.
"Should we double the people on watch?" I ask.
"I don't think we need to. Vinny, how many more explosives do you have?" Dean asks.
"A whole basement full," he replies. His face gives no inclination that he's kidding. Just how many explosives does he have down there?
I let out a little laugh. I'm not sure if I want to believe him because then I'd have to realize how dangerous it is staying in the house next door to his bomb factory.
"I'm not joking. My mother gave me most of her stock before she moved to Arkansas. She likes to collect." He shrugs like it’s no biggie.
"We should go on offense instead of defense. We also should ally with the safe zone if possible." Dean rubs the back of his neck and thins his lips.
The cars stop burning within an hour.
"I'm going to get a tow truck. Who wants to go?" I ask.
"I'll go. Where are you headed?" Dean says.
"Lake's towing. He has four trucks and keeps the keys on a board by the dispatcher's desk. There's another towing company that’s closer, but I have no idea where they keep the keys. It's going to have to be a quick in and out so we aren't seen.”
"We'll stop at the safe zone and warn them while we are out," Dean says.
We meet in the living room of the house where we’ve been keeping watch.
Joey and Star are sitting on the sofa, and his injured arm is bandaged. Vinny and Daria stand by the fireplace, rubbing their hands together. Mrs. Garcia and Ben are serving hot chocolate. Sebastian and Jasmine are huddled together on the love seat. Helga is flitting around in her own world.
"I think we should split up in the different houses," Sebastian says. This is the first time he's weighed in on any situation.
"I see where you're coming from, but it's not a good idea. If they think there are occupants in multiple houses, then they'll split up. We have a better chance sticking together and keeping all the fireplaces lit and the candles burning," Joey says.
"How do you know?" Sebastian asks.
"It's what I'd do." He flashes a smile.
I look at Sebastian and Jasmine. "We're heading over to the safe zone tonight to warn them about the gun store guys. We can drop you off while we’re there."
"We’ve decided we want to stay," he says.
My head jerks back in surprise. I'm actually speechless.
"Are you sure?" Dean asks.
"We are. We don't want to go out tonight. Maybe tomorrow," Jasmine says.
"It could be days before we go back there." This boggles my mind.
"We understand." Jasmine leans against Sebastian.
"Okay. You'll have to help us clean up the mess outside if you want to stay," Dean says.
Sebastian nods.
I'm not sure I like this new development.
Dean follows me to the garage, and we hop into the only SUV that has four-wheel drive. We pull up to the safe zone entrance where we see three soldiers standing with their weapons trained on us.
I roll down my window. "Hey, guys. Can we talk to your leader?"
Private Honey heads our way, and lowers his weapon. "Do you realize it's oh-three-hundred? He's sleeping ma‘am."
I want to tell him to wake his butt up. "We were just attacked by the gun store guys. We blew up ten of them. They indicated they have plans for you."
"Did they?" He laughs. "I don't think they'll get very far. We have trained soldiers on this base."
Dean leans toward my window. "Don't sell them short. We have reason to believe they have numbers and a whole bunch of weapons."
"I'll let the General know. Your invitation still stands." He outstretches his arm to the gate like he is showing us a prize on a game show.
"We'll think about it. Thanks for not shooting my drone," I say.
"If we catch you spying, you won't be so lucky."
I pull the SUV away from the safe zone. "Why do you think they won't let people leave?"
Dean's looking out the window and shrugs as if he's thinking about something.
"What if they're not the good guys? I mean, I didn't see any regular people wandering around when I flew over there. What if they've imprisoned them?"
Dean turns to me. I certainly have his attention now.
"Why did Sebastian and Jasmine turn down our offer to take them there?"
"Maybe they were too scared to leave," he says.
"Could be. Also, he said he was with his mother. His mother was that senator who brought her BMW SUV into the shop the other day to have the battery replaced. Maybe they know something we don't?"
"You remember when there was a bunch of hoopla after the last big hurricane? People were going to FEMA camps, and they were never heard from again," he says.
"I heard that but just chalked it up to conspiracy theories."
"I did too. But what if it was real? What if they were telling the truth?"
A sick feeling hits my stomach. "The Washingtons are in there."
"I think it's hogwash. Why would the government do that? Why would they go through all the trouble of rounding people up when they could just shoot them from helicopters? That conspiracy theory is ludicrous." And that is Dean in a peanut shell. He likes to jerk my chain and give me scenarios that make my brain twists things around until I get paranoid. Then he smacks me with reality. He makes sense. No one would bat an eye if they saw helicopters flying low and shooting at people. Everyone would just assume they were killing zombies. The people at Summer Hill are just trying to stay warm and safe. "We need to find out why our new guests don't want to go
there. I still think they know something and aren't telling us."
We pull up to Lake's Towing. The four blue tow trucks are behind a chain-link fence with a huge padlock on it. I had a feeling it would be locked up, so I grab the bolt cutters I brought with me.
Dean follows me to the fence. "It's a good thing you brought the cutters. We would have had a hard time getting the truck out otherwise. We could've plowed into the fence, but it would've damaged the truck."
I snap the lock and pull off the chain. I don't see any gabbies on the property, so we continue on to the door. It's locked. I swing the bolt cutters and hit the doorknob, breaking it off before we walk inside. Sure enough, the keys are hanging on the board behind the desk. Easy Peasy.
"I'll grab all of them, and we'll take the one with the most gas," Dean says. Just as he touches the first key, we hear a clunking sound coming from the other room.
We freeze. I hope it isn't the owner, John. He can be cranky sometimes. One time, he pitched a fit because an SUV he brought to the shop was leaking differential oil all over his flatbed. I can totally understand where he was coming from because not only does that fluid stink, but it's tacky and hard to clean up. The thing was, the SUV belonged to a girl about sixteen years old. She cried because her vehicle was broken, and he was adding to the drama by squawking about it. I felt sorry for the girl. John is excellent at what he does, but he has no bedside manner.
I open the door that leads into the next room just a crack. Sure enough, John, the now gabbie, was walking around and bouncing off of a shelving unit. I'm seriously glad the zombies have no brain function. I shut the door.
"Let's go," I say to Dean.
We head out to the first truck. I turn the key and wait for the glow plugs to warm up. It seems like it takes forever. When the light goes off, I start it up. The truck roars to life, and I swear the whole state can hear it. The truck rumbles so loud I can feel the vibrations in my chest. The fuel gauge reads half-full. I turn off the ignition but leave the keys inside in case we come back to it.