Dead Series (Book 2): A Little More Dead: Gunfire & Sunshine

by Fisher, Sean Thomas

  Paul followed Stephanie’s gaze to a yoga mat and some light dumbbells in the sand. He couldn’t imagine the smell from burning all of those bodies, not to mention the energy it would take dragging them into a pile and covering them with wood. Digging Sophia’s grave left him tired and sore for days and the thought of disposing of a couple dozen of those things made him queasy. It would be easier to just to move on. Gazing out to sea, Paul drummed his fingers against the table. This place was nice but something called to him out there and not just the photo albums back at his house. Those were important but, after getting them, he would need something to keep him busy. Something that might make a difference. Dead Brock was right. They were behind the eight ball and playing vacation wasn’t the way to get out.

  He had to go back.

  It was March now and Old Man Winter would soon be losing his icy grip on the Midwest. Spring was right around the corner and Paul could imagine the hurt look on Wendy’s face when he told her he was leaving this delusion of paradise but he didn’t care. Maybe he would come back and visit. Or maybe he would just wander the ends of the earth until those yellow teeth found his flesh.

  “I’m sorry, Paul.”

  He blinked Curtis into focus. Slouching in a patio chair, smoke trailed from Curtis’ nose like a sleepy dragon. Paul laughed. “You know what, Curtis? You’re a fucking idiot.”

  “I’m just having a hard time…” His glassy gaze swept over the railing to the dark spot in the sand where they burned Troy’s body. “Dealing with everything that’s happened.”

  “We all are. Jesus!”

  “Curtis,” Stephanie started, “You’re not the only one hurting here so quit acting like it. I loved Mom and Dad too.” She poked a finger into her chest. “Troy was my brother too!”

  “I know,” he softly replied, bringing the joint to his lips.

  Paul dropped a Pop-Tart to his plate and got up, handgun banging against the doorway as he went back inside. He was in no mood to deal with Curtis’ bullshit today and feared where another confrontation might lead. It was better to diffuse the situation and start coming up with a new game plan because the old one sucked. In the old one, she was there. Now she wasn’t. Stopping in the study on the top floor, he planted his hands on his hips and laughed a little at his situation and if anyone was watching they’d think he was going crazy and maybe he was. Do crazy people know when they’re going crazy?

  Exhaling a forlorn breath, his eyes slid down a wall of books to the Adidas on his feet. The ones he stole from a Kohl’s store with Sophia and Dan. He’d rinsed them off in the ocean yesterday but they were still wet and bloodstained against the rug he stood on. Unlike the clean t-shirt and black jeans he had on now, none of the house’s prior tenants wore his shoe size and he was just as stuck with these bloody Adidas as he was in this beach house. Pinching the bridge of his nose, pieces of a new plan started coming together in his mind. He would go back to his home in Iowa and stop to see her along the way. That was all there was to it. Sophia deserved that much.

  After all, no one would put flowers on her grave.

  He ran a hand down his face and chuckled, the sheer absurdity of it all blowing his mind. His wife and mom were dead and gone while Dan still walked the earth as one of those things. Never in a million years did he think…

  “Everything okay?”

  His head snapped around to the sliding glass doors.

  Wendy’s curvy silhouette stepped into the room and folded her arms across a blue leather coat. “What were you laughing at?”

  He looked to her new Nike running shoes that appeared to fit just fine. “My shoes,” he said. “All the brand new shoes in this place and none in my size.”

  “We should hit a store today and stock up.”

  “I have to go back.”

  Her eyebrows dipped. “Back?”

  “To my house.”

  “In Iowa?” Wendy shifted in her stance, gun jiggling against her thigh while Paul braced himself for her rebuttal. A thousand defense strategies ran through his mind at the speed of light and there was no way in hell she was talking him out of this.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go back with you.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, caught off guard. “No, it’s too dangerous. I’m going alone.”

  She laughed like he just told her he saw Bigfoot eating the horses outside. Her face sobered. “I’m going with you and that’s that.”

  “Wendy,” he said, stopping when she held up an unwavering hand.

  He sighed, a strong dose of irritation injecting into his bloodstream.

  “I was getting bored here anyway,” she lied, her smile brightening her blue eyes.

  This made him laugh. They’d barely had a minute to think since they got here. “Bored? Really?”

  “And it smells like fish.”

  “You can’t leave.” They spun around to see Stephanie standing in the patio doorway, sheer curtains blowing around her like a ballroom gown. “It’s suicide to go back out there.” She stepped inside with a mug of coffee cupped in her hands, stopping in front of a tall ladder running up a wall of books. “It’s safe here.” Her gaze tightened. “We can make a life here. A stand.”

  “I know it’s safe but I have to do this.”

  She swept a hand out. “Paul, we have a fence and solar power. Horses for Christ’s sake. Horses!”

  “We can’t just sit here and play the waiting game, Stephanie. We have to bring the fight to them or we’ll never win.”

  “And where will you go?”

  “Back to his house in Iowa.”

  Her thin eyes darted to Wendy. “Iowa? For what?”

  “He can’t remember what his wife looks like and needs some photo albums.”

  Paul turned to a fancy telescope positioned against a glass wall to hide the flush he felt creeping into his cheeks.

  Stephanie stared at him slack jawed with the curtains angrily flapping in the wind behind her. “Can’t you get the pictures and come back?”

  He went around a glass desk and stopped at the window. It was beautiful outside. The kind of day that unforgettable memories are built on. It was tempting to stay. It would be so easy. They had everything they needed and this wasn’t that big of a town and they could stay here and watch movies and play pool and Asteroids and volleyball and fuck the rest of the world. The rest of the world could fend for themselves.

  “I’m not coming back.” A seagull swooped down and landed on a dead man wearing a neon safety vest Paul could see from here. He scanned the bodies. If it wasn’t for that fence, he’d already be dead. They could just stay here. It would be so easy. “If there are more out there like us, I’m going to find them. This is a numbers game and we need more than four people to win it.” He turned from the window and met their stares. “We need an army,” he said, sharpening his gaze. “And I’m not stopping until I find one. It’s our only shot and trust me when I say it is a shot.”

  “We’ll need more guns too. A lot more.”

  Paul nodded at Wendy. “Finding a doctor or a nurse wouldn’t be a bad idea either. We break a leg now and it’s a death trap.”

  Stephanie searched the room for minute, running her brown eyes over the book spines and expensive furnishings, before turning back to him and stepping closer. “Well, if you won’t stay, I’m coming with you.”

  Paul’s stomach dropped. This caught him off guard even more than Wendy’s response. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “That makes two of us,” Curtis said, entering the room. “We’re not going anywhere, sis.”

  Stephanie nodded to the window. “I can’t stay here, Curtis. Not after what happened to Troy. And you and I will never last here on our own.”

  “Bullshit!” Curtis threw his hands out. “We’ve got the fence and guns and everything we need!”

  She shook her head. “I’m going with them.” Her eyes rose to Paul. “If that’s okay with you.”

  He hesitated for a mome
nt before answering. “It won’t be easy, and we won’t have everything we need.”

  “I know.”

  He traded a cryptic look with Wendy, who offered up a shallow shrug. Sighing, he massaged his forehead. If this was what she wanted, Stephanie knew the dangers and deserved a shot to avenge the fall of mankind. “It’s up to you.”

  “Of course he’s going to say that, Steph!” Curtis bellowed, his voice bouncing off the books. “You’re an NFL cheerleader, for Christ’s sake!”

  “There’s more to me than that, Curtis!”

  “Yeah and now that is wife is out of the way, that’s exactly what he wants to check out.”

  “Curtis!”

  Paul stepped forward and Wendy pushed him back.

  Curtis glared at him through malicious slits. “We were doing just fine before you showed up, and look at us now.” He spit to the rug. “Well, you can count me out,” he said, galloping downstairs and calling them assholes under his breath.

  Chapter Seven

  DAY TWENTY-THREE

  Zipping up the black duffel bag of guns and ammo Brock gave him, Paul set it on the bed next to a backpack of clothes he took from the master closet. They were already getting a much later start than he wanted and Paul was more than ready to put this place behind him. The last four days proved he made the right decision about leaving. There were only so many games of Asteroids and pool to play before boredom started picking at his brain. Taking a step back, he surveyed the two bags on the bed while Wendy took one last hot shower down the hall. That was the one thing he would miss about this place but they were meant for bigger things than hot showers and stargazing through a five-thousand-dollar telescope. He just hoped Curtis hadn’t changed his mind and, judging by his drunken behavior over the last four days, he probably hadn’t. The guy was a ticking time bomb and Paul didn’t want to be around when he went off.

  A light knock at the door gave him a jolt. Turning, he expected to see Wendy in a towel but found Curtis instead.

  “You got a minute, hoss?”

  Paul strapped his solar powered G-Shock around his left wrist, dreading whatever was about to come out of Curtis’ mouth.

  Stepping into the room, the smell of body odor and whiskey oozed from his pores, heated by the sunlight streaming through one wall of glass. “Listen, I wanted to apologize for the other day,” Curtis said softly. “I never should’ve said that about Sophia.”

  A volt of negative energy sizzled Paul nerves at the mention of her name.

  “I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong and I was definitely wrong about that.”

  Paul turned a scowl loose on him. “Is there anything you do or say that you don’t have to apologize for later?”

  He shrugged. “Not really, but I’m hoping to change that.”

  Paul couldn’t stop a laugh as he slipped a platinum wedding band onto his ring finger. Old dogs and new tricks, and the last thing he needed right now was to play counselor to some spoiled, unstable brat.

  “Yeah well, anyway,” Curtis started, scratching his head, “if I haven’t offended you too much, I’d uhh…” His throat clicked when he swallowed. “I’d like to come with.”

  Paul stared at him with a dumbfounded look pasted to his face, jaw coming unhinged. He needed a lot of things in his life right now and Curtis was at the bottom of the list.

  “I can’t exactly let my big sister go traipsing off with a bunch of strangers in this world and God knows what could happen if she fell in with the wrong crowd.”

  “We’re not the wrong crowd.”

  “No, I know. That’s not what I meant, but we can’t be the only people left alive out there, right?”

  Paul snorted his laughter. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he replied, tightening the leg straps on his holster.

  “Maybe not but if there are more people out there, they’ll be desperate and scared and I can’t let her go without me.”

  Paul tucked a loaded mag into the side compartment on his holster, not bothering to waste the energy on a reply. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.

  Curtis watched him round up his stuff, a tension-filled silence pressing against them. “So?”

  Paul slung the backpack over a shoulder, grabbed the duffel bag and turned to face him. “Look Curtis, I’m sorry about Troy; I really am. He risked everything for people he didn’t even know and that’s exactly the kind of person I’m looking for, but you and I…we mix like oil and water.”

  “And that’s my bad. I sometimes shoot off at the mouth and, like I said, I’m going to change that.”

  “I guess I just don’t have the patience to wait.”

  “You’re a good guy, Paul, and you didn’t deserve the hard time I gave you and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again and I’ll follow your lead.” His eyes slid to the window overlooking the ocean. “I just don’t want to be here alone, not without Steph and Troy.”

  Paul stopped in front of him on the way out, staring into his soul through the windows of his eyes. “You should’ve thought about that before you shot Cora,” he said, pushing past.

  “I saved her too, ya know. It wasn’t just Troy!”

  Paul kept going down the hallway.

  “I thought she was a straggler,” Curtis yelled after him. “She got bit!”

  Down in the living room, Paul found Wendy and Stephanie sitting with wet hair and their bags packed. They looked nervous and unsure and he didn’t blame them. Following their eyes over his shoulder, he found Curtis leaning in the doorway behind him. Paul turned back to the women and set his bags down. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His gaze lingered on Stephanie because this was about to get weird.

  “Yes,” she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind an ear. “You’re right, we can’t just sit here and wait for people to find us. We need to start taking back what belongs to us.”

  “And we will, but right now we always have to be ready to run. We’re a long way from taking anything back and no matter where we run, we never let our weapons leave our side. Ever.” Paul pointed to the driveway out front. “We have a siphon but that doesn’t mean we won’t run out of gas or hit a snag with the truck somewhere down the line. We always have to be ready to run.”

  “Wait, did you say truck?” Curtis piped in. “As in my truck?”

  Paul ignored him. “Just remember what we talked about on the beach during target practice. This isn’t a movie or a video game and head shots don’t come easy. It’s hard enough hitting a stationary target, let alone one that is literally trying to kill you. Pressure changes everything. Your heart rate. Your breathing. Your aim. No matter how good you think you are sitting on the couch, everything is different out there.” He exhaled and lowered his voice. “And there are probably going be times where we go hours or days without ammo and if that happens shit’s gonna get weird real quick so conserve your rounds.”

  Wendy and Stephanie replied with faint nods.

  “Now, I don’t know what we’ll find in Des Moines or what we’ll do after that but we will figure it out. There has to be someplace we can go and the only way we’ll get there is if we stick together.”

  They nodded again.

  He took a deep breath and released it. “Just follow my lead and above all else…do not accidentally shoot me or I swear to God I will haunt you for the rest of your miserable lives.”

  “And what about you?” Stephanie looked at Curtis. “Where’s your stuff?”

  Solemnly, Curtis shook his head and crossed the living room to a window overlooking the F-150 and Corvette parked out front.

  She bolted to her feet. “I thought we talked about this, Curtis!”

  “He won’t let me.”

  Paul rolled his eyes, avoiding Stephanie’s pointed glare.

  “Paul.” She stepped closer. “We can’t just leave him here by himself.”

  “I’ve already made my decision. I don’t need anyone testing my patience because there’s none left to test.”
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  Stephanie rested a hand on the gun on her hip, looking like an action hero in a brown leather jacket and tight-fitting blue jeans that poured into a pair of combat boots. Paul didn’t know if she brought the clothes with her or found them upstairs and didn’t care. She looked the part and his mind was made up about Curtis.

  “I already lost one brother and I’m not about to lose another.”

  “Then stay here,” he replied, snatching his bags up off the floor.

  “Paul,” Wendy said softly, rising from a studded armchair and crossing the room. “You keep saying we need more people, that we need to build an army, and Curtis can shoot.”

  “Yeah I saw that when he put a round right through Cora’s eye. Impressive.”

  Curtis turned from the window and Wendy shot a hand up.

  “That was an accident and you know it, Paul,” she said, controlling her voice. “This is all still new to us. It hasn’t even been a full month yet and Cora would have turned into one of those things anyway. It was a terrible accident, but did you see her face? Things aren’t like before. We’re all scared and jumpy and mistakes are going to happen but he won’t make that mistake again. Will you, Curtis?”

  He buried his hands in the pockets of his oily jeans. “From here on out, I just want to help. That’s it.”

  Wendy turned back to Paul with pleading look swimming in her blue pools and vanilla wafting from her wet hair. “See? He just wants to help.”

  Paul stared at her to the sound of his beating heart. She was right and goddamn her for that. Curtis could shoot and they needed all the guns they could get because they were up against a serious wall. Releasing a reluctant breath that lowered his shoulders, Paul shook his head. “Not in a million years.”

  “Paul.” She took his hand and squeezed. “I’ll follow you to hell and back because I believe in you, but I would feel safer having him with us. He’s already saved our lives two different times.”

  “Three,” Curtis coughed into his hand, pulling a cross look from Stephanie.