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MARZ | Book 2 | MARZ 2 Page 3

by Davis, James


  “Think we should grab a couple shottys too?” Roosevelt asked as he stuffed the Smith and Wesson into the rifle pocket of the bag. Seeing that it fit snuggly he pulled it back out and looked up at Johnny.

  “Do we really need more than a rifle and pistol?” Johnny asked as he pulled a set of thermals from the shelf.

  “A man can never have enough firearms my friend.” Roosevelt replied.

  “I understand that but it's just going to take up space and weigh us down even more. Do we really need it?” Johnny asked once more. Roosevelt sighed like a big kid.

  “Fine! But I’m getting a damn blade!” Johnny chuckled.

  “Grab me one too. Those we might actually need.” Roosevelt headed back up front to the counter with the pistols and knives. He grabbed a matching set of KA-BAR’s and looked over at the row of pistols.

  “Might as well have a matching set of guns as well.” He muttered. He set his stuff down and circled the counter. He knelt on the tile floor and slid open the display case doors and reached in grabbing a Smith and Wesson pistol to match his rifle. He spotted a Sig Sauer and grabbed it as well for Johnny. If they were going to steal guns for the fight that was sure to come as they crossed the country, they were going to take the good stuff that he knew wasn’t going to break after a few hundred rounds. He stood up and grabbed all his stuff before heading back around to Johnny.

  “Get rid of that Beretta.” Roosevelt said as he laid the arm full of stuff down on a countertop.

  “Why?” Johnny asked as he pulled on the coveralls and slid the orange beany down on his head.

  “You grabbed a Sig rifle, right?” Roosevelt asked. Johnny nodded and leaned over to lace up the new boots he had grabbed.

  “Well I got you a Sig pistol to match.” Roosevelt said, setting the pistol down next to Johnny’s rifle.

  “Grab yourself a pair of those boots.” Johnny said, pointing a finger to the back wall. Roosevelt found a pair in his size and slid them on. Once they were both covered in new clothes for the trip and gear to protect themselves, they headed for the boxes of jerky and MRE’s. They loaded their packs down with the food and ammo along with a few fresh pairs of extreme cold socks. They shouldered their packs and rifles and then stuffed their pistols into the holsters they had found on one of the shelves. They each looked over the others gear making sure nothing was going to break free or fall off. Satisfied that everything was good they turned and headed for the exit.

  Chapter Five

  8:42 p.m. New Year’s Day 2049

  Inside Rick’s Rifles & More

  Georgia

  “Hold up.” Roosevelt said in a low even tone as he twisted the lock on the steel door. He turned the doorknob and eased it open just a fraction of an inch. He watched the area outside for a long minute, waiting to see signs of the infected. Seeing nothing he eased the door open even further, ready to slam it shut at the first sign of trouble. He watched through the crack of the door longer this time than the first but only spotted the zeds they had dispatched earlier.

  “Let’s go.” Roosevelt said over his shoulder before slowly opening the door the rest of the way. He stepped out, pistol raised, sweeping left. Johnny stepped out behind him sweeping right. Seeing that the area was clear they sprinted out to the field. They took cover behind an ancient rusted tractor that looked to have been parked in that spot over thirty years prior. They watched for the infected back toward the gun shop, but it was all clear. This had them curious. A city full of the undead and not one was after them as they made their way back to the barn across the field.

  “What the hell has these things attention?” Roosevelt said as he and Johnny watched the back of the gun store.

  “I don’t know but I’m taking it as a blessing. Let’s get the hell out of here before those things spot us.” Johnny replied. They jumped to their feet and sprinted across the field. The sound of the tall yellow grass swished across their pant legs along with the rucking sound of the items in their packs as they darted across the field. They made it across the field without any fanfare and pushed through the barn doors. Inside was pitch black as the sun had went down hours ago. Johnny anticipated the darkness and pulled a brand-new flashlight he had taken from Ricks and switched it on. He shined the beam across the far side of the barn lighting up the two four wheelers. He aimed the beam upward at the loft and then to the horse stalls on the opposite wall.

  “Clear.” Johnny said, placing his pistol back in its holster.

  “We might as well just stay in here for the night. Riding through the woods in the dark is going to bring a lot of attention.” Roosevelt stated.

  “I agree. Let’s make camp up top in case one of those things somehow manages to get in here. That way we can both get some sleep.” Johnny replied. The pair climbed a fixed wooden ladder up to the loft. Hay stacked in piles along the back wall promised a moderately comfortable night of sleep for the two weary men. They took off their packs and rifles before removing their pistol belts and taking seats on a stack of hay.

  “Hungry?” Roosevelt asked, already pulling a bag of jerky from his pack.

  “I got some too. Did you happen to grab some water for your pack while we were at Ricks?” Johnny asked. Roosevelt removed a bottle of water and held it up in the shine of the flashlight for Johnny to see.

  “Nice. I got some too. I only grabbed four bottles. Figured we could find more along the way or use those water purification tablets to drink from a creek or river.” Johnny said. Roosevelt remained silent, stuffing his face with strips of the dehydrated meat. When they finished eating, they laid their packs on the floor and kicked back on the piles of hay using their newly acquired coats for blankets. It didn’t take long before the two men fell into a deep dream filled sleep.

  “Tracy!” Johnny screamed, the nightmare causing him to jump to his feet with his pistol pressed out and ready to fire. Even in the freezing morning temperature sweat poured down his face as if someone had dumped a cup of water over his head.

  “Johnny man calm down. It was just a dream.” Roosevelt said, his heart thumping in his chest from the sudden outburst. Johnny spun on him, pistol still raised.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Roosevelt shouted pushing his palms out in front of his chest. Realization dawned on Johnny and he quickly tossed the pistol to the ground like it was something disgusting in his bare hand.

  “Jesus Christ! I almost shot you.” Johnny said with wide eyes, not believing he had done such a thing.

  “But you didn’t. We’re all good bro. I’m fine.” Roosevelt replied in an attempt to make his friend feel better.

  “Nightmare?” He asked. Johnny nodded his head once and then ran a hand over his face before taking a seat next to Roosevelt.

  “She keeps showing up in my dreams man. Every single night I watch her get devoured by those damn things!” Johnny growled. Roosevelt just sat there, not completely sure of what to say. He had his own issues at night, but they weren’t anywhere near as bad as Johnny described.

  “I would say you should try some kind of sleep aide but I’m afraid that would be too dangerous if we had to haul ass in the middle of the night for some reason.” Roosevelt finally replied.

  “Let’s just get the hell out of here. I need to occupy my mind with something other than my dead wife.” Johnny stated.

  “Can we eat some breakfast first?” Roosevelt asked.

  “Yeah man do what you do.” Johnny said before releasing a long deep breath that could be seen in the freezing air. He leaned forward and unzipped his pack. Pulling out a half-frozen bottle of water he began to smash it against his hand to break up the thin chunks of ice.

  “Damn Johnny keep it down! We haven’t even looked outside yet. Those things could be out there.” Roosevelt scolded as he pulled out one of the MRE’s. Johnny cringed and berated himself for already doing something else stupid before the day ever got started.

  “My bad.” Johnny said in a low tone as he twiste
d off the cap to his water. He tilted the bottle up against his chapped lips and drank deeply until the partially frozen water was gone, leaving only bits of ice in the bottle. Roosevelt waved off the apology and opened his food.

  “Definitely not eating this shit!” Roosevelt stated as he tossed the Cheese Omelet MRE to the floor and pulled out a full bag of jerky. He tore into the meat like one the infected did a living human, only stopping once to have a quick sip of water. He finished the entire bag of jerky in record time and then stood up to stretch his back. He released a seven second burp as he stood there stretching and then looked over at his friend.

  “And you told me to be quiet.” Johnny stated with a chuckle. Roosevelt shrugged and then tilted his water back chugging down the entire bottle. He knew it would probably be frozen when they woke up, so he slept with two of his bottles under his coat.

  “How come your water isn’t half frozen?” Johnny asked after noticing his bottles of water.

  “Kept them under the coat while we slept.” Roosevelt replied.

  “Good idea.” Johnny said poking a finger at his friend a few times.

  “You ready to go?” Roosevelt asked, leaning down to grab his gear. Johnny stood up and shouldered his own pack and rifle before following Roosevelt down the wooden ladder. They each used bungies to strap their packs and rifles to the front and back racks of the wheelers and then used the paddles on their holsters to attach their pistols to the brake lines on the handlebars for quick draw access as they rode.

  “You check outside yet?” Roosevelt asked as he climbed on his ride. Johnny nodded.

  “No not yet.” Johnny replied as he yanked the pistol from the mounted holster and moved toward the rear door. He listened for the sound of shuffling feet for a few short seconds before pushing through the door with his pistol pressed out in front of him. Roosevelt watched as Johnny’s shadow moved around the building and then back to the door he had just gone out.

  “All clear.” Johnny said as he entered the barn. He headed for his own ride and shoved the pistol back into its holster before climbing on and looking over at Roosevelt.

  “Something has got those things attention. No way we got over here last night and out of here this morning without so much as a single zed spotting us.” Roosevelt stated confusion in his voice as he thought about what could possibly be holding the horde of undead. Finally, he pushed the thought from his mind and turned the key on his wheeler. Johnny did the same and together they pressed their ignitions, hearing the engines roar to life. Slowly they rolled up to the doors, pushing through with ease. Beams of sunlight struck them both in the face as they pulled out into the freezing January air.

  Chapter Six

  8:01 a.m. January 2, 2049

  Somewhere in Georgia

  “What town is this?” Johnny asked over the idling engines.

  “Not sure. Didn’t see a sign when we came in yesterday.” Roosevelt replied. Curiosity getting the better of him Roosevelt pressed the throttle and eased back toward the edge of the town. They rode along watching through the spaced outbuildings looking for the horde that they knew was in the area. They rode side by side along the edge of the field slowing only to pass through a rushing creek. They each raised their legs, resting their feet on the front fenders and they eased through the freezing water. When they got to the edge of town Roosevelt slowed to a stop and shut off his four-wheeler. He looked back at the town and shook his head as he climbed off and walked around to stand next to Johnny's ride. He gave the signal, his flattened-out hand motioning back and forth in front of his throat for Johnny to cut off his engine. Johnny twisted the key to the off position and then stared blankly at his friend, unsure of what he was about to say.

  “I have to know what has that hordes attention. Could be someone that needs our help.” Roosevelt said.

  “You’re not serious,” Johnny sighed with a WTF look plastered all over his features. Roosevelt chuckle.

  “Unfortunately, I am. Come on. Help me spot those bastards.” Roosevelt said. Johnny moved to undo his pistol and rifle, but Roosevelt stopped him.

  “Leave it. We’re not going that far or getting close enough that they’ll spot us.” Johnny looked at the two weapons and then looked back at Roosevelt.

  “Alright but just so you know this is a stupid ass idea. Leave the weapons. You’re out of your damn mind.” Johnny said, throwing his hands in the air.

  “Calm down Tina. We’re not going that far from these wheelers. Just a quick peek and we’re gone. Won’t take us ten minutes.” Roosevelt replied as he turned and started toward the tree line. A row of houses sat behind the trees, the streets empty of all forms of life. Roosevelt eased through the trees and then sprinted across the road, stopping alongside a large ranch style home. He took a quick look around the corner and then glanced back at Johnny.

  “All clear. Let’s move.” Roosevelt said before he rounded the corner and jogged down several houses. The road led up to a stop sign and the beginning of the town beyond that. Yellow grassed lawns and tall trees dotted the front of each house as they ran farther down the road. They cleared the small subdivision in a few short minutes and found themselves next to a four-story apartment building. They could now hear the growls of hundreds of the infected from their position. Roosevelt looked back at Johnny and held a single finger up to his lips. Johnny already knew better than to make a single noise as he followed Roosevelt deeper into the town. The unnatural growls got louder as they passed another set of apartments.

  “You hear that?” Roosevelt asked, his face almost nose to nose with Johnny when he said it. Johnny nodded and then shrugged. Music played softly over the growls of the dead as Roosevelt eased closer to the back of the building. He stopped at the back corner and chanced a quick peek. What he saw confused him more than anything. A boom box sat on the top rail of the upstairs apartment playing a song neither of them had ever heard. An older brunette danced alone on the balcony as the zeds all growled and reached up towards her.

  “What the hell?” Roosevelt mouthed to Johnny before they both backed up a few feet and then turned to head back to the wheelers. Once they made it back to the row of houses Johnny spoke loud enough for Roosevelt to hear him.

  “What was that?” He said, keeping pace with his big friend.

  “I don’t know but we ain’t sticking around to find out.” Roosevelt replied. The pair continued to jog down the street toward the line of trees. The sound of an engine starting caused them to stop and look around.

  “Where did that come from?” Roosevelt asked, looking left and then right.

  “Son of a bitch!” Johnny shouted and then took off in a sprint back toward the four wheelers. Ahead a young-looking teen with a mop of shaggy brown hair sat on Johnny’s ride revving the engine and laughing loudly as he watched the two men race towards him. The kid had to have been at least four hundred pounds from the look of it and none of it was muscle.

  “Stop!” Johnny screamed as he picked up his pace to catch the kid before he sped off with half of their supplies. Johnny burst through the tree line heading right for the wheelers, but the kid was already a football field away and gaining ground with every second.

  “God damn it!” Johnny screamed, kicking at the dirt. Roosevelt ran past and jumped on his ride and started the engine.

  “Get on!” He shouted as he put the wheeler in gear. Johnny jumped on and braced himself using the back-luggage rack. Roosevelt thumbed the throttle halfway down and the big four-wheeler lurched forward, sending a rooster tail of partially frozen mud flying in the air behind them. Johnny grabbed tight to the bars on either side of him, his knuckles turning white as the sudden burst of speed threatened to send him tumbling.

  The wheeler in front slowed significantly, apparent by the fact that the gap between the two began to close rapidly. He made a sudden, sharp right turn and guided the wheeler in between two brick buildings. Roosevelt attempted to slow and make the same turn, his speed p
roving too fast and the frost covered ground too slick. As he yanked the handlebars toward the right, two of the four wheels lifted slightly off the ground, the wheeler slid several feet past his intended turning point. He pressed the throttle again correcting his path and moving between the two buildings. The roar of the engine echoed between the brick buildings, amplifying the sound several times. A few seconds later, they exited the alleyway onto a quiet looking street. The street was lined on one side with houses that all looked the same. Every house was white with black shutters. He spotted Johnny's wheeler about 80 yards away to his left, maneuvering between the abandoned cars that littered the street.

  "Come here, you little tub of lard!" Roosevelt shouted as he yanked the bars left, turning onto the street.

  "The name is Keith, you ugly bitch!" He screamed, guiding the wheeler expertly between a red sports car and a nice black pickup truck.

  "What he say?" Roosevelt exclaimed, slowing down slightly to maneuver between the same two vehicles.

  "Says you're an ugly bitch." Johnny shouted over the roar of the engine.

  "Oh no he didn't!" Roosevelt roared, as he guided the bike between the last two cars on the street and smashed the throttle. The front tires lifted off the ground and the wheeler lurched forward. Keith sped through the three-way intersection at the end of the street, hitting the curb and leaving the ground momentarily, clearing the sidewalk before landing on the frozen grass. Only a few yards sat between him and a thicket of tall trees.

  Johnny reached beneath Roosevelt's right arm toward the front of the wheeler. He fumbled around for a few seconds before his hand slid across the pistol, still holstered in the break line. He slid the lock button down with his index finger and pulled the pistol free. Roosevelt raced towards the end of the street as Johnny aimed the pistol toward the thief and squeezed the trigger. Roosevelt took the curb at top speed, sending the wheeler airborne. Four shots rang out. Keith ducked his head unnecessarily low as every shot missed him by quite a bit.

 

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