by M. D. Massey
Tears seared down her cheeks. She didn’t care if LuLu thought she was a wimp. All of this was too horrid to comprehend. How could people be so evil, especially after everything that had happened these past few months? She expected people to band together during a crisis. This madness was beyond her comprehension of the human race.
“You’ve got to get out of here and save Ella.” LuLu looked straight through her. “Nate wants to—” LuLu couldn’t seem to say it, whatever it was. But Scarlett got the idea.
LuLu continued dabbing ointment (not so gently) on Scarlett’s slash. “Don’t know if this antibiotic stuff works. Expired last year. Look, I know I ain’t exactly been nice to you,” LuLu admitted, forcing a fake smile, which looked more like a grimace. “I never did care much for your type.”
“What do you mean, ‘my type’?” Scarlett took offense.
LuLu waved her hands emphatically in the air. “Little Miss Goody Two Shoes, your whole I’m so holier-than-thou shit. Guess it ain’t your fault God dealt you a perfect life. I probably wouldn’t hate you so much if you weren’t so damn smart and pretty. Some people have all the luck in the world.” LuLu seemed lost in thought.
Scarlett didn’t know how to respond.
“I spent my entire life going from one shithole to the next. Always trying to upgrade to a better man. Finally found a decent job as a waitress in Woodland. I was making it on my own. Then this shit happens. And who do I get stuck with—these sick bastards.”
“We can all escape!” Scarlett exclaimed. She was somewhat taken aback by LuLu’s outburst but still wanted to save her from Paxton and Nate.
“Shut your mouth. Nate might hear you.” The look in LuLu’s eyes as she glanced over Scarlett’s shoulder was that of pure fear.
Nate ranted and squirmed and crawled from the hallway to one of the bedrooms.
“God knows it’s too late for me. The things I’ve done in my life—someone like you would never understand.” LuLu stared at Scarlett accusingly. “But Ella, we’ve got to save her,” LuLu whispered.
Is that a tear? LuLu’s eyes shimmered over. Scarlett was speechless. LuLu had a heart after all. Scarlett started to get up, wanting to peek out the window for signs of Justin and Ella, thinking it was a good sign Paxton hadn’t returned yet. LuLu yanked her back to the sofa.
“I was sixteen when I escaped my trailer-trash life in the middle of the night on the back of a Harley with promises of love and happiness.”
Why had LuLu picked this moment for a heart to heart? Really, now—of all times?
“What a scumbag he turned out to be. After our month-long fling across Southern California, he traded me to a motorcycle gang for some Bettie Page chick. Come to think of it, she did look a lot like you.”
Scarlett gasped, engrossed in LuLu’s impromptu confession. No wonder she hates me.
“I never was the same after that. Spent the rest of my life in survival mode, going from gang to gang, always depending on a man. Never was brave like you—” LuLu looked away.
Scarlett thought she caught a glint of compassion in LuLu’s eyes. “Why didn’t you just go back home?” Scarlett really didn’t understand how people let themselves fall so low.
LuLu’s moment of compassion quickly eroded to contempt. “And then what? End up alone like my loveless mother,” LuLu snapped.
“LuLu, we can all escape,” Scarlett promised.
“That’s another thing I hate. You’re always so, so damned optimistic,” LuLu hissed, back to her usual bitchy self.
Scarlett stood up, desperately wanting to look outside. Once again, LuLu forced her back down on the sofa. Scarlett gingerly patted the gauze LuLu had wrapped around her wound. She had been centimeters away from turning into a creeper.
“We have to get out of here,” Scarlett warned, not hiding her impatience. Please let Justin and Ella escape!
“Did I ever tell you?” LuLu paused for a moment as if thinking back. “It was Ella who saved me when things first started going apeshit? Back when no one really knew what was happening. If she hadn’t let me in the van that day—” LuLu shivered. “I couldn’t outrun those things forever. They were everywhere. Taking care of Ella these past few months has given me something to live for.”
Scarlett interrupted, “LuLu, you’ve got to get yourself together. Now’s the time to get out of here!”
“Have you not listened to a damn thing I’ve said? I could never go out there, like you. I’m scared shitless of those things. I wouldn’t survive one night out there.”
Scarlett had never thought of it like that. LuLu used her bitchiness to hide her fear. It was a cover-up. Scarlett certainly didn’t consider herself brave. Not at all. She went out there in the creeper-infested world to survive—not to hide. LuLu had it wrong. Scarlett was scared to death most of the time. The difference between LuLu and her—Scarlett had hope.
Scuffling noises on the porch. Yelling and crying. Her heart faltered. They didn’t get away . . .
“I’ll do what I can to help you escape,” LuLu said briskly.
“Why, if you hate me so much?”
LuLu’s eyes narrowed. Scarlett swore she saw her own reflection in LuLu’s eyes shrouded by specks of hatred and fear. It must have been one of her mysterious vision-like-images playing tricks on her.
“Don’t you see? If they have you—they don’t need me!” LuLu seethed as if the words barely squeezed through her clenched teeth.
The front door flew open. Paxton shoved Justin and Ella inside by the scruffs of their jackets, proudly dragging them into the den like he had just captured prized lions on a safari hunt. Scarlett’s heart sank.
“Justin, on the porch. Guard Duty. Ella, sit your pretty, little ass down in that chair and don’t move a muscle.” Paxton pointed to the recliner Nate had been sitting in.
Justin charged Paxton in an attempt to protest, but Paxton merely held him back with one hand. Justin, although quick and nimble, could not overpower the brawny, muscular man.
“Since all of you seem to have a soft spot for sweet, little Ella—she’ll be my insurance policy—to keep you in line. We’ve had enough fun for one day. I’m the bossman now. Forget about Dean. He’s not saving you.” His eyes drilled into hers.
The cold steel of his grey eyes cut into her like the knife slash stinging her collarbone.
He dug through his duffle bag and tossed something blue to LuLu. “Tie Scarlett to the couch. All you girly-girls,” he emphasized, “are sleeping in the den with me.” It was an apparent warning.
Justin’s high-pitched voice pleaded, “W-T-F? Dude, this is messed-up. Like, what’s wrong with you?” Justin was furious.
“I told you to take point,” Paxton ordered.
“Ye-ah, I heard you the first time. Like I need a gun—don’t ya know?” Justin said it so sarcastically, Scarlett was sure Paxton was about to give him another black eye.
“I’ll be right here. Holler if we’re being invaded.” Paxton yanked Ella by her hair, threatening.
“Ye-ah, okay, I’m going—but don’t you touch her!” Justin’s nostrils flared. He stormed out in a fury.
Paxton dug into his duffle bag, pulling out a pharmaceutical bottle. “One for each of the girly-girls. Don’t worry, it’s only a sedative. I need some peace and quiet.” Paxton seemed exasperated with them.
LuLu held out her hand for a pill.
“Not you. I said girly-girls.” Paxton sneered. “I’m thinkin’ you ought to tend to Nate. He could probably go for a quickie. Help take his mind off things if you know what I mean,” Paxton said, grabbing his groin and leering at Scarlett. “Tomorrow, baby. Tomorrow I’m really going to show you who the bossman is.”
Scarlett wanted to vomit. The whole thing made her sick to her stomach. Her only consolation was that Paxton had been looking at her and not Ella when he had said it.
22
Scarlett thought it extremely odd to find LuLu bustling about, making the morning coffee. Next, LuLu placed a variet
y of boxed cereals in the center of the kitchen table and then cheerfully set the table with coffee mugs, bowls, napkins, and spoons. Justin and Ella sat at the table, speechless.
“Anything I can do to help?” Scarlett asked.
“Sit.” LuLu pointed to a chair.
Scarlett scooted into a chair next to Ella.
LuLu bent down and whispered, “Don’t drink the coffee. Sip at it.”
Puzzled, Scarlett glanced at Justin and Ella, and the two nodded as if they were in on something. LuLu must have put something in the coffee.
LuLu went around the table filling the coffee mugs in what looked like a scene from an old television series her Aunt Marge had loved. LuLu reminded her of Flo, without the candy-pink waitress uniform. Scarlett envisioned LuLu spouting off, “Mel, kiss my grits,” to Paxton. The comedy scene played out in her mind until the Stockton Boys joined them. She quickly tensed.
“So, boys and girls, this is how it’s going to play out,” Paxton said, taking a swig of coffee. He gagged. “You call this coffee? What is this shit?”
“I made the coffee—” LuLu began.
Paxton waved her off. “As I was saying, we play by my rules now.” Paxton beamed with satisfaction.
“About f’n time!” Nate chipped in.
“You do what I say when I say, and we’ll be one big, happy family.” Paxton smiled. It was a sadistic smile. “We’ll be staying here for a couple of days for some good old-fashion R and R.” He looked directly at Scarlett. “Then we’ll be taking a road trip.”
“We aren’t going back to Vacaville for Dean and Luther?” Justin seemed surprised.
“Hello?” Nate rattled. “You a fuckin’ moron?” Nate snorted his usual vile laugh. “It’s Vegas baby! All the blow and whores we want.”
“Aren’t we going to Texas?” Justin started.
“Fooled ya.” Nate snorted again.
“Ha, the state of Texicution—don’t think so. Not really my cup of tea, if you know what I mean.” Paxton snickered, lifting his pinky finger as he took another drink of coffee.
“W-T-F! Guys, spoiler alert. Las Vegas is probably a mega-metropolis of zombies. Like, how could you not figure that out?” Justin retorted as if they were idiots.
Paxton yawned. “Too bad, so sad. We’re going to Vegas.” Paxton eyed Scarlett suspiciously. “Why aren’t you drinking your coffee?”
“It sucks,” Scarlett said vehemently, apparently catching him off guard. Tense laughter jangled the room. Scarlett pretended to take a drink and hoped she hadn’t blown it.
“Now, to keep the peace, I got this very special,” Paxton arched one brow wickedly, “contraption for the troublemakers. It’s in the back of the truck. Come on, let’s go check it out.”
Once outside, Nate said, “Yeah baby, it’s a cage. Like the one we had in Stockton. Had ourselves some fun in the early days, didn’t we, Paxton? Didn’t we, didn’t we?” Nate ranted, prancing around the truck like a rabid hyena. “Look-e-here! It’s got—”
“Nate, shut your f’n trap. Let the suspense kill them—if the zombies don’t first. So, if you three get any ideas of escaping or shall we say, ‘disorderly conduct’—you’ll be zombie bait. Capiche?” Paxton confirmed his threat with a cold-stone glare. “If anyone of you fucks up, Ella pays the price.”
Nate rubbed his hands together and smacked his lips repeatedly. “Boy howdy, I can’t wait. Paxton, can we try it out for size? I wanna see how ‘teach’ looks behind those bars. She do remind me of that first ho we found.” Nate’s sickening laugh haunted the chilly morning. “Man, her crazy-shit screaming still be givin’ me a boner—”
“Enough!” Paxton shouted.
Scarlett’s stomach turned, and her knees went wobbly. The Stockton Boys were more dangerous than she had ever imagined. More dangerous than creepers. She understood the urgency of her ominous vision-dreams. The dreams had been warning her of Paxton and Nate and had not been warnings for Dean and Luther’s trip to Travis AFB.
Ella was stunned, her mouth wide-open in a silent scream. Justin rushed to Ella’s side, holding her. Justin was about to lose it: his teeth grinding, his jaw flexing, his nostril’s flaring. A defiant expression swept over his face, and Scarlett knew Justin was going to punch Nate. She stepped next to Justin and shook her head while Paxton sprayed the hinges with WD-40, testing the swing of the door as if it were a threat.
Scarlett had to think and think fast. She needed some sort of a plan, anything to get away from these evil bastards. “So, tell me, why are we outside without any guards?” Scarlett questioned, wanting to find out as much information about the area as possible.
“Haha, we’ve been busy these past few weeks, teach. While you all were playing house, we secured this fancy court. Got a shitload of supplies. And,” he snorted, “and all those times Paxton said there was no mo’ gas, we was storing it here. Remember when the generators broke down? That was us. Stealing the parts for our generator,” Nate rambled on rather proudly.
Scarlett stared at him in utter amazement. They’d been planning this for weeks.
Nate clapped his hands and ran to the end of the driveway. “Look-e see, down there.” Nate pointed to the houses at the eastern end of the street where the court intersected a residential street. “We got traps and barricades all along this here court,” Nate boasted.
“Nate, shut the fuck-up. Anybody ever tell you—you talk too much?” Paxton slammed the tailgate to the truck. “Enough of ‘show and tell,’ ” Paxton ordered.
“I can’t wait, can’t wait. I wanna be first. Can I, huh? Can I please?” Nate jumped up and down like a crazy stickman on a pogo stick.
“Nate, cool it, will ya? You’re too loud.” Paxton gave Nate an impatient look.
“You da bossman.” Nate twitched and let out a very vocal yawn.
Paxton seemed concerned and aimed his binoculars at the intersection down the street. “A horde’s approaching the outer perimeter. Inside.” Paxton’s tone was low and serious.
After getting over the initial shock of Paxton’s sickening plan, Scarlett finally gathered her wits and began surveying the area, remembering every detail of every house, including the barricades. She tried to see what was at the eastern end of the neighborhood, but Paxton nudged up against her from behind.
“Recess is over, teach,” Paxton whispered in her ear, grabbing a handful of her butt. “Inside boys and girls,” he sing-songed.
Scarlett swore Paxton just yawned. His hot-fowl breath lingered on the back of her neck giving her the heebie-jeebies. LuLu must have spiked the coffee with a sedative, but she had no idea how long it would take to work, or if it would work at all. Paxton was much too vigilant, always on guard; she couldn’t see him falling asleep. Nate, on the other hand, was already showing signs of fatigue with erratic movements and slurred speech.
Nate groggily went inside as Paxton herded them into the den. Nate was relieved when Paxton headed for the garage, probably to check on the generator. Nate parked himself in one of the leather recliners and let out a yawn. Time to catch some zzzs and dream of Ella and the Zombies!
Nate was so ready to watch his favorite reality show. The one he had thought up all on his own back in Stockton. And this time, he was going to play it with Ella. Ella and the Zombies! He imagined the TV commercial showing scenes of the next episode, teasing him, taunting him, begging him to watch the show. He could not wait for his favorite part, where he got to watch them eat her guts out and then watch her turn. Watch her turn from Miss Bambi-eyed to all zombie-eyed and shit, blood spurting out and guts spilling out all over the place.
Nate patted his pocket to make sure the cell phone was still there. He had charged it in his truck on the way back from the fire. It was always ready. Ready, so he could record Ella and the Zombies and watch it over and over just like he had done back in Stockton when this whole Super Summer flu shit first started. It had been the best summer of his life. He couldn’t wait to have fun with Bambi and the teach. And even m
ore fun with those whores in Vegas.
Paxton yelled, “Nate, what the hell do you think you’re doing? We’ve got work to do.”
Yeah, Yeah, now what does Paxton want—Nate do this. Nate do that. Yada Yada Yada . . . Nate jumped up all obedient-like. “You da bossman.” Nate was so tired of Paxton pushing him around like he was a dimwit. But it would be worth it when he got to play with Ella and the Zombies.
“Nate, you’re in charge,” Paxton said, bossy as shit.
“Wha da fuck? Where you be going?” Nate started to argue.
“Jacked-up my truck the night of the fire. It twerks like a pole dancer—if you know what I mean,” Paxton said with a nasty grin.
Always with the sex stuff. Oh yeah, Nate played along with Paxton and his sick obsession with sex. Deep in his groin, Nate knew sex was evil. His mama done told him long ago, when he was six-years-old, told him sex was the root of all evil, told him that every night before she went out to work her street corner.
He was ready to save the world. And the way he saw it—was to get rid of all the whores. That way, men wouldn’t be tempted to do the evil deed. It was them whores’ fault. Nate wondered why no one had thought of that before the Super Summer flu. And as far as Paxton was concerned, Oh yeah, I know how to play a playa. Nate wasn’t as stupid as he led everyone to believe. Lazy yes, but stupid—Nah, he believed in the KISS concept: Keep It Simple, Stupid.
“Earth to Nate. Keep your head in the game!” Paxton shouted.
Paxton’s annoying voice interrupted his thoughts again. “Where you gettin’ a truck around here?” Nate asked, unable to hold back another yawn.
Paxton reached into his green duffle bag (the bag with all the goodies) and pulled out a pharmaceutical bottle. “Take a couple of these. I need you to stay focused,” Paxton said, downing a couple of pills before tossing the bottle to Nate.
