Blood and slobber flew into his face. He shoved the body off to the side and shot him in the head one more time for good measure, flinching with the loud report. Staring at the dead guy, who couldn’t have been older than nineteen or twenty, Paul chased his breath as the girls sprinted over with guns drawn and jaws dragging. Unclicking the harness, he pushed himself from the kart, eyes snagging on the building’s logo on the dead guy’s shirt.
“Are you okay?” Wendy asked, examining Paul for signs of trauma.
He wiped his face and rubbed his neck, grimacing with a bolt of pain. “I’m fine.”
“That was the fastest one I’ve seen yet,” Stephanie panted, checking their six.
Curtis skidded to a stop next to them in his kart, staring in abject horror at the oversized dead thing lying on the concrete floor. He looked up, face drawn and pale. “Guess this means I’m driving tomorrow.”
Chapter Nine
DAY TWENTY-FOUR
The next morning, Paul grimaced with the sting of a sore neck and a strong desire to get back on the road. Today was the day he would lay flowers on Sophia’s grave and nothing else mattered. Not the fact that he almost died last night or the unsettling notion that the dead go-kart employee might’ve left the backdoor open as a trap before hiding in the cabinet. Or maybe he was just standing in there like an idiot and the kart noise drew him out. Either way, it didn’t matter. Paul couldn’t see his wife’s face again and he prayed that getting closer would help put the fuzzy pieces together in his mind. If not, it would only take another day or two to reach his house in Des Moines, where the photo albums would kick start the memories in high-definition color. He hoped that by then, a plan would start taking shape in his mind because, at this point, he was running on empty.
Sunshine broke through the clouds, pouring in through the pickup’s windows as Paul navigated a northbound course he hoped was correct. Getting lost in this world could cost a lot more than time and gas. He already felt guilty enough for not sharing their next destination but didn’t have the stomach for any arguments against it. He was selfish. Plain and simple.
Wendy looked up from a map in her lap. “Where are you going?” she asked, drawing everyone’s eyes and igniting his irritation.
“I have to make a quick stop.”
She looked back down and traced their course with her finger. Looking up again, she stared out over the road. “You’re going back to that house.”
Curtis leaned forward in the backseat, straining to see the map. “What house?”
“It won’t take long.”
“What house?”
Wendy studied Paul’s profile and spoke in a dull voice. “The house Sophia died in.”
Curtis stared blankly at her for a moment, biting his tongue as long as possible, which wasn’t long. “And when were you planning on letting us in on this little pit stop, Paul?”
Paul gripped the wheel tighter, clenching his teeth against the fury budding inside. The tires droned in his ears. Skeletal trees passed by in a blur. He pressed harder on the gas pedal, eager to get there before anyone could talk him out of it.
“Hey, it’s cool if you want to stop there,” Curtis said. “I just wish you’d keep us posted on your plans.”
“It’s on the way,” Paul replied, growing quiet and hoping Curtis would as well. Right now he just needed to be alone with his thoughts. This visit would change him and it was important he didn’t let it change him too much, not for him but for Sophia. She would be crushed if he let his misery get in the way of their safety. Whether he liked it or not, he was responsible for each one of them and the last thing he wanted to do was become numb to losing people, which, in this world, was easier done than said.
Still too early in March to find any wildflowers growing along the roadside, every flower shop they stopped at was just as dead as the flowers wilting away inside. So Paul took a fake bouquet of pink carnations from a weathered gravestone in some small town cemetery along the way. The seventy-eight year-old man had been there since the thirties and Paul figured he wouldn’t mind. Despite that, Paul couldn’t stop seeing a bony hand shoot through the ground and grab his wrist as he pried the flowers from the headstone vase. At this point, nothing would surprise him now.
The miles passed with the time until eventually a large white house appeared in the distance. The Jacobsen house. Paul slowed down, ignoring the butterflies launching in his stomach and the tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t want to do this but he had to. If he didn’t, who would? One thing he would not do was step foot back inside that Godforsaken house, not with that bloodstained sectional waiting to stir his pain.
Backing down the driveway, Paul got out and stared at the naked willow perched atop the hill in the backyard. Fake flowers clutched in one hand. Tactical shotgun hanging in the other. Everyone followed him up that hill which stretched forever, past the back deck and covered pool, one lethargic step after another. The black leather jacket he took from the house fluttered in the wind and despite the sun, it was cold. At the top, the four of them fanned out and stared at the crudely made cross fashioned from some leftover white trim Paul and Dan found inside the garage. It seemed like years ago. Digging this grave with his friend in the warm sunshine, the willow providing no shade while Wendy prattled on and on about the fucking view.
“It’s a beautiful view,” Stephanie said, gazing over the valley of trees below with the sun shining in her face. She gave Paul’s hand a quick squeeze and backed away.
Wendy bent down and ran a hand across the still fresh dirt, tucking her hair behind an ear. “I miss you, girl,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I wish I could’ve gotten to know you better.” She paused and a Blue Jay screeched out from below. “Thank you for saving my life, more than once. I will never forget that.” The Kohl’s store slipped through Paul’s whirling mind as Wendy slowly rose to her feet and gave him a weak smile before leading Stephanie down the hill to the house’s large back deck. The same deck Dan taught Wendy to shoot on.
Paul blinked a tear out. He still couldn’t believe Sophia was here.
Dead and buried.
Gone forever.
A fleeting memory.
Curtis set a soft hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry, bro,” he said, standing there for a few seconds, at a rare loss for words. “It really is an amazing view.”
Paul kept his eyes on the grave while Curtis retreated to join the others, the sun warm on his face and the pain sharp in his heart. Setting the shotgun on the ground, Paul knelt down and placed the pink flowers on the grave, searching for words that didn’t exist. What could he possibly say after leaving her here like this? She wasn’t from here and no one knew her name. Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out a Sharpie and scribbled something across the wooden cross. He should’ve done this before but the shock of it all made thinking clearly a losing feat. Leaning back on his haunches, he stared at the words before him, the ones that cemented the impossible.
Sophia Hessler.
His tears watered her grave and it wasn’t fair. She was so young and full of life and had so much more left to live but here she was, buried in some fucking stranger’s backyard.
No funeral.
No casket.
No nothing.
“I’m back, baby,” he finally whispered, scooping up some dirt and letting it slip through his fingers. “I’m still alive but Dan… Dan didn’t make it. He got bit shortly after we left this place and I don’t know how much longer any of us have.” His gaze drifted out over the valley below. “Those things outnumber us a thousand to one, maybe more.” A faint smile pulled into his lips. “I keep seeing you everywhere I turn and I get the feeling I’ll be seeing you again real soon. But this time for real and, believe me, I’m more than ready. I miss you so bad.”
The tears came harder, blurring his vision. “I just can’t wait to hold you again and I’m sorry for everything that happened.” Rebecca flashed through his mind with her sh
iny nails and deep cleavage, spearing his heart with a poison-tipped arrow. He pounded his fist into the soil, knowing he should come clean right now and tell Sophia everything about that night. Tell her what kind of a shitty husband he really was. She deserved to know the truth, even in death. He’d never done anything like that before and if only they’d had that little baby they’d been trying so hard to have none of this would’ve happened because that’s not the kind of man he is. He’s the kind who would always be there, the kind who would never hurt his family. But that family never came to be so he fucked up and she deserved to know the truth.
“I tried telling you this before but couldn’t.” He paused to wipe away a tear, Adam’s apple bobbing, lungs cinching. “That weekend you went to Minneapolis for that seminar, I…” He hung his head and closed his eyes against the shame, unable to even look at her grave right now. Taking a deep breath, he blew it back out and forced his eyes to open. “That weekend I brought someone into our…”
A piercing scream rang out behind him, killing the words on his lips. He whipped around to see a man pointing a rifle at everyone on the back deck. Acting on basic instinct alone, Paul scooped up the shotgun without looking and sprang to his feet, tucking the weapon into his shoulder and sneaking toward a swath of trees he could use for cover on his way down the hill. A hammer clicked back behind him, freezing him in place.
“Put the gun back on the ground.”
Paul slowly turned to see a large man step out from a nearby tree, heart dropping as he stared down the barrel of a machine gun with a black man behind it and an all business look pasted across his whiskery face.
Chapter Ten
On his knees with his fingers locked behind his head, Paul’s eyes bounced from the two men pointing guns at them to the mint sectional stained with Sophia’s blood. It was a twisted piece of irony that made it difficult to think. His selfishness led them straight into a trap and this was all on him. The men’s hardened faces left little room for doubt they would pull those triggers and the clock hammered away in Paul’s mind.
The big black guy whistled like he was eyeballing a restored Mustang Fastback. “Shit, I don’t know who to start with first.”
The white guy cackled with gravelly laughter, a rifle tucked into his shoulder. “I feel like a kid in a candy shop.”
“And here I thought all the good pussy had turned to shit.” The black man licked his full lips and shook his head, eyes bouncing between Wendy and Stephanie. “Good thing we got the fuck up out of Dallas.” He whistled again. “Would you look at these beautiful babies! Just look at em, Marv.”
Marv shed a crooked grin, a dark mullet brushing his collar as he shook his head. “Oh, I’m lookin, Jay-man. I’m a lookin.”
“Take the guns and the truck and just go,” Curtis said, the whisper of a snarl pulling at his upper lip.
Jay frowned at him. “We don’t want your guns and truck, fool.” He took a hand from the machine gun and ran it back and forth over his shiny bald head for a moment before returning it to the weapon. “We want what you can’t find in a shuttered sporting goods store or super market.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
Jay jerked the weapon to Paul. “Funny, that’s exactly what this cracker National Guardsman said before I shot him in the face and took his M4 carbine.” He tightened the automatic weapon against his shoulder. “Now, if you decide to open your bitch mouth again I’m a put a round right in yer dick.”
Marv cringed. “Damn Jay, don’t say shit like that, man; you’re killing my boner.”
Jay arched an eyebrow at him for a moment and both men burst into laughter. They grew quiet and pinched their eyes against the sunlight streaming through the windows.
Jay’s brow went up. “So, who’s Sophia anyway?”
Paul swallowed thickly, pulse pounding at the mere mention of her name and a piece of glass from a lamp he destroyed the last time he was here digging into his kneecap.
“Who’s Sophia?”
Glaring at him, Paul imagined killing him a hundred different ways, each time better than the one before it.
Jay stuck the end of the M4 against Stephanie’s head. “I’ll kill her right now, homeboy. I swear to fucking God.”
“My wife.”
Jay stared at him for a few nonplussed seconds, a frozen snapshot in time. “She get bit?”
Paul looked away, hands already going numb from loss of blood.
“That’s too bad. I bet she was a looker, huh Paul? Married to a handsome guy like you and all.”
Paul tipped his chin down and stared straight ahead, his primal rage threatening to make him do something stupid. Something he’d regret if he lived long enough to regret it.
Jay pulled the gun from Stephanie’s head and chuckled. “Shit, maybe when I’m done here I’ll go dig her up and fuck her too.”
Paul got to one foot, dislodging the glass from his kneecap and drawing Marvin’s rifle.
“Don’t,” Marvin said coolly.
Paul got back to his knees and locked his hands behind his head, seething with rage.
“Good dog.”
Jay pulled up the baggy jeans hiding beneath an oversized Polo shirt. “So Marvin, you wanna pick first or you wanna go first?”
Marv ran a tongue across his yellow front teeth, shifting in his worn boots. “Damn, that’s a tough call, Jay-man.”
Paul traded a cryptic look with Curtis, who tipped a slight nod to the two men, both of whom were so wrapped up in the women they didn’t notice. Paul faintly shook his head no and Curtis swung his pointed glare back to Jay and Marv.
“I think I’ll pick first.”
Jay’s face sobered dramatically as something animalistic took over in his eyes.
Clicking a long fingernail against the rifle, Marv’s tapered gaze slid from Wendy to Stephanie and back again. Paul shifted on his knees, which were burning against the hardwood floor, and Marv swung the rifle on him in a heartbeat. “Don’t be gettin no ideas, hero,” he said, flashing Paul a malicious grin. “You’ll miss the show.”
“Alright Marvin, come on and pick already, man. Let’s get this show on the road.”
He turned back to the women and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyes thinning as he thought it over. “I’ll take you, darling,” he said, grinning at Stephanie.
“You little bitch!” Jay laughed. “I was going to pick her.”
“Hey, all is fair in love and war, Jay-man.”
“I guess so.” Jay’s eyes hovered on Wendy. “What’s your name, princess?”
She traded a helpless look with Paul that made him shudder. “Sabrina.”
“Sabrina. I like that.” He gestured with the M4. “Get up.”
Grudgingly, she got to her feet, keeping her hands behind her head.
“Step over here.”
Wendy crossed the living room, glancing at her pink gun lying on a sofa table with everyone else’s weapons while Marv kept his rifle trained on the others. Paul looked at Curtis who was – judging by the pissed off look on his face – very close to getting them all killed. Cringing, he silently cursed himself for getting them into this mess. He never should’ve come here because nowhere was safe now and he fucking knew that but came just the same.
“Stop.” Jay said.
Wendy stopped in front of the bloody couch, lower lip quivering as reality crashed down. This was really happening and they were powerless to stop it.
“Now, nice and slow like, take off your jacket and shirt.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Paul said, bracing himself for a bullet to the head. “We can stop these things out there but only if we work together.”
Marv jerked the rifle to him, face reddening with anger. “You say one more word and I will shoot you in the face.” He jerked the gun to Stephanie, pulling a light shriek past her lips. “But I’ll shoot her first and make you watch.”
Jay kept his gaze fixed on Wendy. “Always gotta be a hero in
the bunch, huh Marv?”
“That’s why ya gotta break em early!”
Jay gestured with the gun. “The jacket.”
Wendy looked to others for help they couldn’t provide and reluctantly let her blue jacket slide to the floor before pulling her shirt over her head. Jay’s eyes lit up when he saw the lacey red bra hiding beneath. He whistled. “Damn girl, you got some gifts.”
Marv couldn’t stop himself from sneaking a peek and Paul knew that when Wendy removed her jeans Marv would look again. That would be Paul’s chance to make a move and one thing was certain: he would make a move.
“Now the shoes and then the jeans.”
Wendy kicked out of her sneakers and, with trembling hands, unbuttoned her jeans while Paul readied himself for his impending attack. If he could get a hold of Marvin’s rifle he might have a chance to shoot Jay before the big man shot him. It was a risky plan with little chance for success but it was better than nothing. He couldn’t live with nothing.
Wiggling her hips back and forth, Wendy peeled the jeans to the floor.
Jay’s eyes drew to her matching panties. “Nice,” he whispered, taking one hand from the gun to massage his groin. “Now go ahead and kick em across the room. Yep, right over there. That’s it. Okay, okay.” Another echoing whistle slid from his lips, hand working faster between his legs, voice turning soft and shaky. “Damned if you ain’t the purtiest thing I ever seen.”
Marv peeked over his shoulder and Paul shot to his feet, but his legs were stiff from kneeling on the hard floor and his surprise attack nowhere near as fast as he’d rehearsed in his mind. Swinging the rifle around, the buttstock connected with the side of Paul’s head. Shooting stars streaked his vision as he fell into Stephanie.
Dead Series (Book 2): A Little More Dead: Gunfire & Sunshine Page 9
