MARZ | Book 2 | MARZ 2

by Davis, James

  “Alright fellas I’m going to let you get one of our AR-15’s, two shotguns, a pistol each and a hundred rounds of ammo for each gun. Pick your poison.” Bud said standing to the side as they moved over to the racks and started scanning the weapons. Roosevelt stepped over to the AR-15’s and pulled a Smith & Wesson down and then stepped over to the pistols. The table was full of Glocks, Berettas, Sigs, and other various makers. He grabbed a Kimber 1911 and held it up feeling its heft.

  “Bingo.” He said as he started to stick the gun in his pocket.

  “Don’t put that in your pocket. Grab a holster for it.” Bud said, pulling a large box full of them out from under a table. Johnny was still looking at the pistols while Roosevelt searched through the box.

  “If I were you guys, I’d get the same caliber weapons, maybe even the same gun. It's better to have the same gun and ammunition that way you are both looking for the same ammo and parts if one should break.” Bud said. Johnny looked at Roosevelts pistol and then grabbed a similar looking one made by Kimber as well. He looked back at Bud who just nodded his approval. Johnny shrugged and started looking through holsters with Roosevelt. They each grabbed kydex owb holsters made by a company called Vedder.

  “Going to need some jeans and a belt to wear these correctly. Roosevelt said as he set his items on the table and headed for the shotguns. He grabbed a couple of Mossberg pump actions and headed back over to the table. Bud stepped in and grabbed the ammunition they would need, setting it down next to the rest of their stuff.

  “Not bad for free.” Bud said, looking over each of the items.

  “You’re not wrong.” Johnny said.

  “Alright let’s get you boys some clothes that fit. I have a couple of big boys here that can use those overalls and will be damn happy to have them.” Bud said, helping them carry the stuff out of the room.

  "We can't thank you enough for everything Bud." Johnny said, as they followed the man out the door. Bud paused and turned, quickly locking the door behind them.

  "Don't mention it." He replied as they walked down a long dimly lit hallway.

  The walls throughout the building were made of brick and painted brown, the grey carpet was old and worn. The walls were lined with photos of Sweetwater's past sheriffs. Three doors down, Bud stopped in front of a door that had been painted the same color as the walls. He twisted the silver knob and pushed the door inward.

  "Ain't all pretty, but it'll keep you warm and dry. Find something that fits." Bud instructed.

  The room was large and square, the back corner was lined with wooden lockers numbered one through sixteen. Low wooden benches sat bolted to the ground in front of them. A wide opening to the left of the lockers lead into a smaller room with tile floors and shower heads lining the wall. In the middle of the room several wooden tables had been set up and clothes, a variety of sizes and colors, had been piled several feet high on top of each.

  "Grab some extras, we'll have 'em cleaned, before you leave in a couple days." Bud said. As Johnny and Roosevelt sifted through piles of clothes.

  "Actually Bud, we appreciate the offer, but we'd like to get moving as soon as possible. First thing in the morning if you'll have us for the night." Johnny said, holding up a black, long-sleeve t-shirt.

  Bud looked at Johnny for a moment then looked to Roosevelt.

  "We'll have you, but I promised you fellas more than a few days. Ol' Bud keeps his promises. You sure you wanna head out so soon?" Bud replied.

  Johnny nodded, hanging the black shirt over his shoulder and turning back to the pile of clothes.

  "We've got somewhere to be, and things are only going to get worse. The sooner we get there, the better." Johnny replied.

  Bud picked up a pair of Wranglers from the nearest table and tossed them to Johnny.

  "Our ride only goes so fast, we gotta make up a lot of time." Roosevelt said.

  "Might be able to help you there too. Got an old bronco ain't getting’ much use. She’s had her day, but she'll get you where you need to be." Bud said

  "You and your town have done enough, we couldn't accept that…" Johnny began.

  "A trade of course, we might have some use for that old buggy you got." Bud said, interrupting him.

  "Throw in some snacks and it's a deal!" Roosevelt shot before Johnny could object. Bud chuckled and nodded his head.

  "Consider it done.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  8:00 a.m. January 4, 2049

  Sweetwater, Tennessee

  “You boys get dressed and meet me back out front. I’ll show you that bronco and get this deal done.” Bud said, taking a seat on the front porch. He grabbed the box of cigars and pulled one out, lighting it with a wooden match. Johnny and Roosevelt headed inside with their new clothes and headed back up to the rooms they had slept in. Ten minutes later they were stepping back out onto the front porch. Cherry infused smoke wafted up into the air above Buds head as he released a large puff from his stogie. He looked up at them and nodded.

  “You leave those bibs laying in your rooms?” He asked.

  “Yes sir.” Johnny replied. Bud sat forward and stubbed his cigar out in the glass ashtray and then got to his feet.

  “Well come on then. Ain’t got all day.” He said walking down the front steps. Johnny and Roosevelt followed behind him down the road to a small metal building with a sign that read Sweetwater Fire Department. He led them inside and stopped in front of a cork board with different sets of keys hanging from thumb tacks. He browsed through the keys for a moment until he spotted the ones he was looking for. Bud grabbed the keys and continued down a wood paneled hallway and out a door that led to the garage. A large red fire engine sat on one side of the garage, the fireman's gear and suits sitting in a neat pile next to the truck on the floor. Large black toolboxes sat in the corners and a long wooden work bench ran along the back wall covered in old worn out truck parts. An American flag hung down from the roof sideways above an old ratty looking Ford Bronco. Rust covered the fenders and hood of the truck and the vinyl interior was cracked and dry rotted throughout the cab.

  “She looks a little rough, but she runs good and will climb through any mud hold you can get in.” Bud said, giving the old truck a pat on the roof.

  “Damn thing looks like it’s at least a hundred years old.” Roosevelt replied as he poked his head inside the cab. Bud chuckled.

  “It’s a 1997 model. Makes it 52 years old. Almost as old as me.” Bud said, still laughing.

  “We’ll take it.” Johnny said, shoving his hand out to Bud. Bud went to grab it, but Roosevelt smacked Johnny's hand down out of the way.

  “Snacks are still part of the deal, right?” He said in a serious tone. Bud burst into laughter and grabbed Johnny's hand in a firm grip.

  “Yeah the snacks still come with it.” He said, giving Johnny's hand a quick shake as he chuckled and shook his head. Roosevelt smiled and gave the old man a nod of approval.

  “Good doing business with you sheriff.” He said.

  “Now that our business is done what do you say we take this old girl for a spin around town? We’ll stop over at Richey’s and fill it up for you.” Bud offered, looking from man to man.

  “Sounds good to me.” Johnny said.

  “Same here.” Roosevelt agreed. Bud gave a nod and tossed the keys to Johnny. They all climbed inside. The sound of cracking vinyl filled the air as they each slid into their seats. Johnny shoved the key in the ignition, twisted it and the old truck fired up with a deep rumbling growl on the first try.

  “Seems like a decent truck so far.” Johnny said, putting it in drive and pulling to the edge of the main road.

  “Take a right and head toward the edge of town. Richey’s Truck Stop has fuel and snacks.” Bud said, eyeing Roosevelt in his mirror.

  “Good man!” Roosevelt said over the rumbling engine. Bud chuckled and sank back into his seat staring out of the window at his small town of Sweetwater as it pa
ssed by. A few minutes later they were parked outside of a large building that said Truck Stop in large white letters on top of the building. A large black Freightliner sat next to the gas pumps that lined one side of the place while a long row of diesel islands lined the other side. A massive gravel parking lot was situated beyond the diesel pumps with multiple tractor-trailers parked on the far end of the lot.

  “Guess those folks never made it back home, did they?” Johnny asked, pointing his chin toward the dormant trucks.

  “We have a few of those guys in town. How do you think we got all the extra stuff? One guy had a load going to a grocery store chain and another had crates of ammo. That's why we can send out a hundred of our best shooters when a herd rolls into town.” Bud stated as they all headed toward the front doors. Bud pulled a set of keys from his pocket and shoved one into the door, twisting it until he heard an audible click.

  “Pull your pistols boys, never know if one of those things managed to get stuck in here when Richey locked the place up the other day.” Bud said, pulling out one of the shiny old revolvers. Johnny and Roosevelt did the same and stood back as Bud flung open the door. Johnny and Roosevelt were the first ones in sweeping to either side of the building. Rows of candy sat to the right and the cashier's counter on the left as the two men pushed forward. Beyond the candy aisle were rows of chips and jerky and then rows of tools and other things a trucker might need for the job.

  “Going left.” Johnny said in a low voice as he stalked toward an attached restaurant passing drink coolers that were set into the wall. Bud followed him in and the two cleared it quickly. When they returned to the front of the store, they spotted Roosevelt tearing into a bag of pork rinds, crunching them loudly.

  “Snacks!” He mumbled through a mouthful of the dry, crunchy rinds. Johnny and Bud chuckled.

  “Where does he put it all?” Bud asked as he looked over a shelf full of knick-knacks set into the wall.

  “Couldn’t tell ya’. All I know is he eats like that every day and never gains a single pound or goes to the gym.” Johnny pointed out. Bud shook his head and grabbed a small glass horse figurine from the shelf. He stuck it in his shirt pocket and then headed back to the front counter to grab two plastic bags. He handed them to Roosevelt and said.

  “Two bags of snacks. No more than that. The townspeople might end up needing this stuff before this is over. Johnny you come with me to get the truck filled up before the power goes out again. It’s been spotty for days now and we have no way of getting the place powered back up once it's down.” Bud said, ready to get things done and get back to the small town he called home. The two men pushed through the front doors and headed out to the pumps staying silent as they walked. Before they ever made it to the truck something tackled Bud to the ground with a screaming growl. Johnny spun on his heels to see a skinny white-haired zed on top of Bud snapping its teeth in his face. Bud pushed the thing up, his forearm under its chin and his left hand on its shoulder. Johnny was stunned at the sight. They had checked the place out and found the place to be empty but the scene before him said otherwise.

  “Don’t just stand there! Shoot the damn thing!” Bud groaned, his old body starting to give out to the strain. Johnny quickly pulled his Kimber and took aim at the side of the things head.

  “Push it up one more time!” Johnny shouted as he steadied his aim. Bud shoved with everything he had left, and Johnny squeezed the trigger. The things head popped like a watermelon, sending chunks of bone, blood and brain matter raining down all over Buds perfect white cowboy hat. Johnny ran forward and grabbed the thing by the shoulder and rolled it off him. Bud pushed the disgusting hat off his head and rolled over out of the mess. He looked up at Johnny to thank him but shouted.

  “Look out!” Instead. A shot rang out from the store as something slammed into Johnny’s lower back sending him sprawling to the ground.

  “You guys alright?” Roosevelt asked as he ran toward the downed men, two sacks full of snacks in his left hand and a smoking .45 in his right.

  “Oh shit.” Roosevelt said, stopping next to the two men and gazing out at the truck parking area to see a herd of zeds bolting out from around the parked trucks.

  Chapter Eighteen

  9:07 a.m. January 4, 2049

  Sweetwater, Tennessee

  "Get back inside!" Bud shouted, firing two shots from his revolver, dropping the closest two zombies. The zeds slammed to the ground, sliding across the gravel in a cloud of white dust.

  Johnny reached up grabbing Roosevelt's outstretched hand and pulling himself to his feet. He looked back to see the herd racing toward them. There had to have been a hundred of them and more were pouring from the woods across a large field. The three men turned and sprinted toward the front door of the store. Johnny got there first and slammed into the door pushing it inward and holding it open for Roosevelt and Bud. The two men entered behind him and he slammed the door shut, leaning against it. Bud twisted the keys that still hung from the door's lock and pulled them out. Zed's slammed into the door one after the other. Bud reached up and grabbed a white rope that hung just above the door, giving a yank. The quiet room grew louder as the metal gate slammed into the ground and bounced a few times before settling in place. Bud pressed his boot into the bottom of the gate and reached down, inserting a key into the lock, and giving it a twist and locking it in place.

  "Let's get away from this door." Bud said.

  Johnny nodded.

  "Don't need to attract more attention that we have to." Roosevelt said.

  "So, what now?" Johnny asked, as he and Roosevelt followed Bud through a door to the side of the building into a garage. The garage was large and lined with oversized air tools and massive wrenches. An old red Peterbilt 379 sat on a lift with the hood up and the wheels leaning in the corner. They darted past a bay with a long rectangle pit in the center of the floor that was used for oil changes and general maintenance on the massive trucks.

  “Maybe we should just take one of these old trucks. Nothing would stop us then.” Johnny said as they stopped next to the red Pete.

  “We need to get up high enough to get a good look around. Might be able to get spotted by one of the herd spotters in town if we can get on the roof.” Bud said, looking around for a roof access ladder. The room burst into a cacophony of noise as the herd of zeds slammed into the garage doors and walls of the store. The noise was so loud that the three men had to scream over it to hear one another talk. Seeing nothing of use in the garage they darted back into the hall. The walls had diamond plate sheets halfway up from the floor and the top half was drywall with posters advertising different products the truck stop sold. Halfway down the hall another hall split off to the right. They three men cut right into the hall which led them into a shower and laundry area. The room opened with shower stalls on the left and a row of stacked washer and dryer combos on the right. At the far end of the room was an emergency exit and next to that a roof access ladder with steel grating wrapped around the outside to prevent someone from falling.

  “There!” Bud shouted over the growing noise, pointing a finger at the ladder. The three men sprinted toward the ladder just as the sound of glass shattering filled their ears.

  “We have to hurry!” Roosevelt shouted, concern and panic filling his tone. They could hear the zeds pushing in on the steel barricade Bud had pulled down and locked.

  “I’ll go up first! Richey gave me the Keys for this whole place and that hatch has a padlock on it!” Bud shouted. The noise from the thin metal garage doors was deafening now and they could barely think. Johnny stepped aside and allowed Bud to start up the ladder, Keys already in his hand. Johnny started up the ladder just as the sound of creaking, bending metal filled the air. The screaming growls of the zeds came next followed by the sound of slapping feet on the concrete floor.

  “Go, go, go!” Roosevelt screamed, slapping Johnny’s leg to hurry him up. Bud reached the top and started sorting through the wad o
f keys in search of the correct one. Johnny was high enough that Roosevelt could start climbing but they were running out of room. Roosevelt made it up a few feet when the first of the zeds slammed into the wall at the end of the hall.

  “Hurry up!” Roosevelt shouted again as the infected got their feet under them and sprinted the rest of the way down the short hall. Fingers tore at Roosevelt's legs as he tried to get higher on the ladder but there just wasn’t enough room. Johnny looked down to see his friend kicking mangled faces over and over as they clawed and snapped their teeth at the fresh meat only feet above them.

  “What is taking so long!” Roosevelt screamed as the zeds piled up at the bottom of the ladder creating a ramp of undead corpses for the next zeds in line to get higher on the ladder.

  “I can't find the right damn key!” Bud yelled down from the top.

  “Son of bitch!” Johnny said as the zeds continued to pile into the small area below them.

  “Rosie get up here with me!” Johnny shouted down to his friend as he clung to the steel that wrapped around the ladder. It was an extremely tight fit but both men were able to get in the space out of reach from the zeds. The screaming growls crawled up Buds spine as he fumbled with the keys. Sweat dripped from his mustache as he flipped to the next key. He put the key to the lock, and it started to slide in. Seeing this, Bud let out a “Shit yeah! I got it!”

  He started to push the key the rest of the way in but his sweaty hand lost grip on the ladder and he let go of the key to stop himself from falling. The key clung to the lock for a long second but gravity finally won and Bud watched in slow motion as the ring of keys fell free from the small lock and pinged off of the ladder rung next to Johnny's head before dropping into the mass of snapping teeth and clawing fingers. Bud stood there in shock as he gazed down at the destroyed faces screaming up at them. It wouldn’t take long and there would be some many of the things piled up at the bottom that they would be able to reach all three of the men on the ladder.