Dying Days 4

by Armand Rosamilia

  "The boys said they aren't in the garage, and not in the house next door. Maybe they abandoned the van?"

  "Maybe. I don't know and I don't care anymore. I think this was their base and for some stupid reason they split. Tried to drive past us."

  "We need to get moving before dark."

  "I'm staying."

  Darlene felt John touch her arm in the dark and lean closer.

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm sick of camping in the damn woods."

  "We got plenty of food, fire pits, and the barbed wire for protection. What else do we need? This building only draws attention."

  "Then why is everything still in it? I think the damn place is cursed. Voodoo witchcraft shit. The zombies are afraid of it."

  "I'm going back."

  "Suit yourself. You ain't the boss of me, anyway. If anyone wants to stay they can. But you aren't taking all the food and shit."

  "Maybe I will and maybe I won't."

  Darlene could hear the two men starting to get agitated and loud. The people walking around upstairs were going from room to room, looking for her and her group.

  "You can turn around and put that food back where you got it. Some of it is mine," one of them said loudly.

  "Bullshit. We hunt for the group. You can't just walk away and expect to keep what we all find. No way. You can stay but this is all coming with us. Those are the rules."

  The people from upstairs were coming down the stairs quickly now, the noise sounding loud in the enclosed space.

  "There are no rules, you twat. It's finders keepers and I found this house. I'm keeping it. You can stay and enjoy a roof over your head or you can go back to sleeping with the bugs."

  "Watch your mouth," the female said. "If you want to stay, then stay. But we're taking everything with us we can carry."

  "You can have the van and whatever's in it."

  "No way. This place is packed with stuff. Weapons and food for months. What are you going to do with it? You're only one man."

  "Two," someone else said.

  "I'm staying and so is Ken. I'm sure his family would come back, too."

  "No one is coming back because no one is staying. I'll burn this fucker to the ground before I leave a can of peas, and I hate peas. Do you understand?"

  "Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot, you stupid fuck."

  "Call me that again and I will shoot you."

  John pulled Darlene as close to the ground as he could and she let him.

  "Holy shit," Tosha said quietly, and Darlene could hear excitement in her words.

  "You… are… a stupid fuck."

  "Uh oh," Murph said.

  They heard a gunshot and a grunt.

  It was followed in rapid succession by another gunshot, someone screamed; the woman began to yell, and more shots. A bullet ripped through the wood of the wall inches from Darlene's head, poking a hole in the wall and letting faint light in.

  Tosha scooted over Darlene's legs and put her eye to the hole. "There are at least six I can see," she said, her words nearly drowned out by the shouting and more shots fired. "We need to do something."

  "No," was all John said. He grabbed Tosha and pulled her to the floor, covering Darlene.

  Darlene lost count of how many shots were fired both inside and outside. The argument had erupted into a mini-war with everyone. After a few minutes, the shooting ceased.

  Someone was moaning in the main room a few feet from their hiding place, but they couldn't hear any other sound.

  John leaned forward and might have been about to open the door when the sound of distant gunfire erupted. Darlene figured it was over near the van. Maybe they'd kill each other? She put a hand on John's arm for him to wait and he understood, sitting back.

  Darlene sighed in relief when he heard someone walking back up the wooden steps. "What's your problem?" a man asked.

  "I'm dying, you fat fuck," someone said close to the door.

  "Shit. Everyone, back down," Tosha whispered. "They're going to shoot again."

  Darlene tried to get as low as she could but with the baby it was so uncomfortable. They were also really tight in the space.

  Three shots were fired and one slammed in and through the door. Darlene bit her tongue and tasted blood. If she had ammo for the Desert Eagle, she'd be returning fire and killing everyone in her path, regardless of the baby right now.

  "Now you're dead. And that was the last time you call me a fat fuck."

  "Stop shooting. We have company. A shitload of zombies in the street now, thanks to your bullshit."

  "I don't care. Not my problem. I'm closing the doors and staying. You in or out?"

  Darlene guessed whoever he was talking to decided to stay because she heard the door close and two sets of footsteps walking around.

  If they waited it out, maybe the two would fall asleep or leave. Maybe their friends would realize they were missing and come back to shoot them. This was definitely a volatile group of people, desperate to live at any cost. The group would implode soon, but Darlene wondered how soon.

  "I… need help," Murph whispered.

  "Don't piss in here, old man," John said.

  "Too late. I already did. I've been shot."

  Chapter Twenty

  The zombie stared at Russ, from the backseat of the Honda Accord, with a grin.

  Russ put his eyes back on the road, weaving in and out of abandoned vehicles and bodies. "Am I heading in the right direction?"

  "Sure. Maybe. Who can really say?"

  Bri swung around on the passenger seat and aimed the pistol at the zombie. "You need to give better answers."

  "Ever seen Pulp Fiction, little girl?" the zombie asked.

  "No. And it's not important right now. Don't distract me," Bri said.

  "It is important. Russ, tell Bri why it's important," the zombie said. "Please and thank you."

  "Bri, don't aim the gun at him," Russ said.

  "Why not?"

  "He's referring to a scene in Pulp Fiction where a guy aims a gun at a guy in the backseat and the car hits a bump and the gun goes off and kills the backseat guy. Brains everywhere," Russ said.

  "Oh." Bri put the gun on the seat between her and Russ but kept staring at the zombie. "What's your name?"

  "Bad move," the zombie said. "It will be harder to kill me if you know about me. It’s better if you call me Zombie Man or something impersonal. I already know your names, and when I rip you apart I'm going to feel a bit sad."

  Bri smiled. "I'm going to enjoy breaking more and more of your bones and seeing what your pain tolerance really is."

  "Hey, relax," Russ said, alarmed. He wasn't liking the new Bri, the little girl he thought was scared of her own shadow. Suddenly, without the confines of the compound and a gun in her hand, she was cursing like a sailor and threatening to do bodily harm.

  "I thought you said you did experiments on zombies before?" Bri asked.

  "I did… but not to be cruel. I was trying to get an advantage. Find out what made them tick, and how they were evolving." Russ looked in the rearview mirror again at the zombie. "I didn't see this coming, though."

  "Who really did?" the zombie asked. "I'm Ben, by the way. But you can call me Mister Dover."

  "Ben Dover?" Bri asked.

  Even Russ had to smile at the stupid joke. "Ignore him. Unless he's telling us we're heading in the right direction." Russ glanced again at the zombie in the back seat. "Well?"

  The zombie closed his eyes. "Shh. I need to focus and find her."

  "You should pull over," Bri said.

  Russ didn't want to chance it. They were staying off of A1A as much as possible, taking side streets as far north as they could. He kept expecting to see Jeff and his marauders behind him every few seconds.

  "We need to head west," the zombie said. "Northwest, actually."

  "I'm heading north now. When do I need to turn off west?"

  "As soon as you can. This isn’t like a GPS. I just get a general sen
se of where she is, and even that comes and goes. I'm not sure how to really use this power. And she's the only person I seem to be able to sense. Which is weird, right? Each day is something new," the zombie said.

  "Where are you from? Where were you when you died?" Bri asked.

  "Don't ask questions," Russ said.

  "Nah, it's alright. We have nothing but time to kill." The zombie sat up and Bri swung the pistol back at his face until he leaned back and put his hands up. "Fine. I'm relaxed. Anyway… I'm from a little town called Niagara Falls."

  "I've heard of it," Bri said.

  "Everyone's heard of it, little girl. It's a famous place. When people started heading south and the border was breached, the survivors flooded into town. I was working at the time." The zombie smiled. "Believe it or not, I was actually a baker. A damn good one, too. Some idiot walked right through my glass front door and bit me before I could push him out. The next thing I remember is being in Florida and feeling… superior."

  "Why are you telling us any of this? And I'm sure it's all a bunch of crap. You're trying to get us to like you so we don't put a bullet in your head," Russ said. "I'm not listening to your lies."

  "Not lies. I'm actually telling you the truth. I might be far superior to you, but there's still one thing I can't account for: boredom. I don’t sleep, I don't drink or eat in the traditional sense, and I don't even get excited anymore. How's that for irony? I'm sure, before I gained back my focus, I was just another horny zombie, wandering around with his dick out… sorry for the language, Bri. I was banging everything in sight. Now I'm not interested. I guess it's just another way to prove how superior I am."

  "Or it proves there is a God if you can't procreate," Bri said. "Eventually you'll die out and the human race will take over again. You're just going to be a small blip on the radar of history." Bri smiled at Russ.

  "A footnote in history. I like the sound of it," Russ said.

  "Bleh. What will it matter to you? You'll both be long dead before we die out. Ever see the movie 28 Weeks Later?"

  "Yes," Russ said. He slowed at an intersection and went up onto a lawn to get around a pileup, wary of an ambush. "Pretty good film."

  "It was brilliant. I realize it now. You know why? Because the monsters in it were all dying. You're not allowed to call them zombies. Why were they dying, Bri?"

  Bri shrugged. "I never saw it."

  "Because they were starving." The zombie clapped his hands. "Isn't that amazing? And so simple. They had nothing to feed on and started to fall apart and die. Drying up like husks. I wish the movie had only been a half an hour long and left it at that. I would've still watched it."

  "I knew something was different when I had a couple of zombies strapped to the gurneys and they weren't drying up. They were using reserve energy and regenerating. If I'd had more time to experiment, I would've learned so much more," Russ said.

  "You don't need to. You have me. Ask any question you want and I'll answer it to the best of my ability. Scout's honor," the zombie said.

  "You were a Boy Scout?" Bri asked.

  "No. It's just an expression. But I won't lie."

  "What's your real name?" Bri asked quickly.

  The zombie smiled. "It actually is Ben. My last name is no longer important. I might call myself something epic and cliché like your last boss, though. How does King Of All Zombies sound? Maybe Zombie Ben?"

  Russ stopped himself from suggesting a couple of stupid names. He knew exactly what the zombie was doing and he didn't want to fall into the trap of thinking this was a fun road trip with a buddy, who was hobbled but could still bite and kill you, in the backseat.

  They went over a bridge slowly, the car bumping over pieces of cars and people on the blacktop. There was still a path but Russ had to tap a few vehicles along the way. He wished there was a way to destroy the bridge in case Jeff and his crew were behind them. But with his luck, they'd already passed this point plus he would be making a return trip to get Taylor harder.

  At the end of the bridge, Russ hit the brakes and stared at the smiling zombie, with the AK-47, watching them.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Doug casually fell back on his Harley and got in line with Cowboy. "You having fun yet?"

  "You bet I am," Cowboy yelled back with a grin. "There's nothing better than riding the open road with the wind in your hair. And the best part: I don't even have a license to ride. I am such a bad role model."

  "Yes, you are. Hang close to me when we stop tonight. Got it?"

  Cowboy nodded. Doug sped back up and got just behind Jeff, who was looking at him with a pissed look via his side mirror.

  Good, Doug thought. Let the guy worry too much about him. Let Jeffrey focus on everything he was doing, because only one of them was going back to Main Street.

  "How much farther are we riding, boss?" Doug asked, yelling over the wind but making sure everyone around him could hear the question.

  Jeff didn't look back. "When I say so. Stop yelling and shut up."

  Doug saluted him and revved the engine as he rode. The street was relatively wide open, and the group gained a bit of speed as they cruised. Doug casually dropped back a few miles an hour, letting Jeff get a small lead and letting it increase every few minutes until he was riding with the pack again. If something were to happen up ahead, Doug wanted to make sure Jeff took the full brunt of it.

  But the fun quickly ended with the road bunched up with abandoned cars and felled telephone poles. They had to waste time scampering up a muddy embankment and around.

  After another hour of riding, Jeff put his arm up and led them to what looked like an abandoned Pizza Hut. The parking lot was empty and a small strip mall was destroyed at the other end. Everyone shut down their bikes.

  Jeff pointed at a couple of the men. "You two need to come with me." He looked at Doug and smiled. "You and your lover are on gas duty. Find us as much as you can."

  "Lover? Is he talking about me?" Cowboy asked.

  Doug nodded. "I'm afraid so. Grab some gas cans and let's go take a walk. I want to be away from this asshole, anyway."

  A block away was what looked to be doctor's offices and there were several cars in the parking lot. They walked over but Doug pointed at the lack of front doors. "I say we go inside and look around."

  "I'm sure it's been picked clean," Cowboy said.

  "I'm talking about finding a good spot so we don't get ambushed."

  "By who?"

  Doug threw a thumb over his shoulder. "You think Jeff is going to tell those two guys to go find fresh produce? He'll send them over in a bit and they'll try to kill us."

  "He needs us right now," Cowboy said.

  "Does he look like the sharpest crayon in the box? He'll try to leave us right here. He thinks we're close." Doug looked over at the group across the street. "He knows exactly where we're going, and I guarantee we don't have much more to ride. Jeffrey wants to get rid of me before I get in his way or take some of his glory."

  "And it's guilt by association for me," Cowboy said.

  "Sucks to be you. Let's get inside."

  "What if they don't attack us?"

  Doug grinned. "They will. Jeffrey is too stupid not to realize this is the perfect time to do it. He'll send them out to find food or water or something but send them right to us."

  Doug walked over to the nearest car and undid the gas cap. "He's watching us right now. He'll send them to flank us."

  When the two men walked to the other side of the Pizza Hut parking lot and disappeared behind some trees, Cowboy laughed. "I suppose you're right."

  "Let's get some gas while we're still breathing. We could use it for the bikes," Doug said. "Those two will take their sweet time coming around the corner."

  Cowboy shoved the small piece of garden hose they carried into the gas tank. "I suppose I'm sucking gas?"

  "You suppose right. Hurry up, too."

  Doug went into the office building, careful not to step on anything and
alert someone inside, if there was anyone. You couldn't be too careful these days. Being paranoid meant staying alive.

  Someone had been using this space for a home, and quite recently. Doug could smell a lingering cooking fire and what might have been meat. The floor was dusty but new bare footprints were coming and going. He guessed at least three people, and all of them either kids or midgets.

  He guessed calling them midgets wasn't proper, but what was in this day and age, right? "Hello?" Doug figured sneaking around wasn't going to help. He was running out of time before the two goons would get around the block and strike. "Anyone here?"

  "Go away," a man's voice said from behind a closed door at the far end of the hallway. "We're armed to the teeth."

  "So am I," Doug said. "I'm not here to rob or hurt anyone. I just need to find a quiet spot to conduct some business."

  Doug took a few more steps as quietly as he could.

  "What type of business?"

  There was another person with the speaker on the other side of the door because Doug could hear someone whispering in anger.

  "There are two men following my partner and me. I only seek an empty room to kill them. Easy enough, right?"

  "Go away," was the reply. "I have a rifle and I will shoot your head off."

  "I doubt it. Sorry to be so blunt." Doug was at the door, but decided to move to the right just in case he wasn't bluffing. "But you would've shot me already if you had ammo. I know I would have. I'm going to open the door."

  "It's locked."

  "Then unlock it. I'd hate to kick it in. It does offer you some protection from the zombies. I know there are at least two of you, but I need to be sure. I can't go around killing people who want to kill me first without knowing who I'm renting a room from," Doug said.

  "What do you mean?"

  Doug smiled. "I'll make a deal with you: let me kill them without incident and I'll leave their bodies for you. Do we have a deal?"

  "Yes." The answer came quickly. These people were starving and desperate. Doug knew what the meat they'd been cooking was and he felt sick to his stomach. "Open the door."