"I have a gun."
"You've said that already. The fight is not with you."
Doug counted to ten silently and lifted his foot to kick in the door when he heard the lock disengage. He stepped back and held his pistol but pointed it at the ground.
A girl no more than seventeen opened it and stared at Doug's gun.
Behind her, lying on a dirty bed with soiled sheets was a small man.
"Holy shit, you're a midget," Doug blurted. "I knew it from the prints."
The man shook his head. "I'm a dwarf, you inconsiderate bastard."
Doug shrugged. "What's the difference, right?" He walked past the girl but made sure he had her in his vision at all times. It was just the two of them but there were signs of a third in the corner: a mutilated corpse with chunks of flesh trimmed off the body.
The dwarf looked away when Doug caught his eye. "Don't judge me. You have no idea what we've been through. It was either that, or die. I chose to live and keep my daughter alive."
"Biological daughter?" Doug asked.
"Yes, you big fool. Dwarves can have normal-sized kids, you know. Don't you watch TV? I'm Jameson and this is my daughter Lilly."
"Doug." He stared at the sickly dwarf. "I thought you had a gun."
Jameson smiled and lifted the stained covers, revealing a shotgun. "Who are these men and what do they want with you? And don't lie. I'm not the moral police." He glanced at the body in the corner. "Obviously."
"I'm with a group. We're searching for someone. The leader of said group isn't too fond of me. So he's sent two of the thugs to kill me and my buddy."
Doug realized he was wasting too much time talking with the dwarf.
"Do you know the difference between a midget and a dwarf?"
Doug grinned and shook his head.
Jameson returned the grinned. "A dwarf is disproportionate. Like me. I have smallish hands and a large head."
"Good to know," Doug said. He didn't really think so, and wanted to be gone already. If those two were crawling, they would've gotten here by now. "Are we good? I need to dispose of them before they get me."
The dwarf's eyes went wide and the shotgun came up. Doug threw himself to his left and at the man's daughter, trying to use her as a shield before the crazy bastard could kill him. The shotgun roared.
Doug hit the ground three feet from Lilly, who was looking past him. Doug flipped over, aiming at the dwarf but looking at the doorway, where a bloody mess was entering the room.
At first he thought it was a zombie because of all the blood and the smell, but realized it was Cowboy. The dwarf had shot him in the gut and chest with the shotgun.
"Cowboy," Doug yelled. He looked at the dwarf. "Don't shoot."
"Too late," Jameson mumbled, and fell back onto the greasy pillows. "You said someone was after you."
"Shit," Cowboy said, falling to his knees and trying unsuccessfully to keep the contents of his torso from spilling out. He smiled faintly at Doug before seeing Jameson. "Is that a midget? Did a fucking midget kill me? Holy shit."
"He's a dwarf," Doug said, as if it mattered. "Where are the two guys Jeff sent?"
Cowboy smiled. "I saw them coming. I gutted them in the parking lot and dragged them inside the building. I came looking for you."
"Good work," was all Doug could say.
"You called me Cowboy." He coughed once and closed his eyes, and Cowboy was dead.
"Don't kill us," Lilly said quietly.
"I should on principle," Doug said. "He was a good man," he lied. "I don't want to kill anyone. I just want to live. What about you, dwarf?"
Jameson nodded but looked away. "I am riddled with cancer. Eating former friends and family as my dietary staple has not helped me regain much strength. I'm amazed I'm still alive right now." He turned to Doug. "I need you to do me a favor."
"You killed my partner and you're asking for a favor?"
"Are you gay?"
Doug got pissed. "No. How dare you."
Jameson smiled. "Then he wasn't your partner. He was some dude that had your back. Now he's dead because he was too stupid to announce himself before entering a strange room. I'm sorry I shot him, but he didn't seem like he was long for this world."
Doug nodded. "What favor?"
Jameson looked at his daughter. "Can I trust you to keep her safe?"
"Daddy, no," Lilly said. "I won't leave you."
"I need you to take her with you and keep her safe. Can I trust you?"
Doug nodded. "I'll keep her as safe as this world will allow."
"Excellent. I have a store of ammo under the bed. You can have it. There are also a few knives. We're obviously out of food and drink," Jameson said. He turned back to his daughter. "Come here and give me a kiss goodbye."
Lilly began crying and didn't move.
Jameson smiled and waved his fingers at her. "You knew this was going to happen as soon as I found someone to take care of you. I'm holding on as it is, and I'm in so much pain right now. I need this to end. You know it. You hear me crying in my sleep. How long before someone or something hears me? Go. I need to talk to this man."
Lilly hugged her father and Doug went to the bed and pulled a small box of ammo from underneath, taking the shotgun as well. There were three long knives in the bed with Jameson.
Lilly went out of the room and down the hall.
"Kill me and make it quick," Jameson said and closed his eyes.
Doug nodded and slit the man's throat, wiping the blood on the sheets.
When Doug went out into the hall the girl was crying. "Listen to me. We're going to go with some very dangerous men. One in particular. You'll know who he is soon enough. Do you trust me with your life?" Doug asked.
Lilly nodded, still crying.
"Then wipe those tears. Very soon I'm going to ask you to do me a solid. Got it? And you will not hesitate or you will die," Doug said. "You need to turn off your brain and go with the flow."
Lilly wiped her face with dirty hands and nodded.
He grabbed her by the arm and led her to the parking lot. "Grab those two gas cans. Let's go."
They walked back across the street and Jeff frowned.
"Where's Cowboy?" Jeff asked.
"I'm not his keeper," Doug said. He grabbed a gas can and began filling his Harley. "I was told to get gas and I did."
Jeff looked past Doug and Lilly. "I sent two men out to find food."
"Maybe they got lost." Doug handed another man the gas can. "Are we going to wait for them or leave? We have more important things to do."
Doug knew Jeff was pissed but he couldn't blurt out he'd sent the two men to kill him. The two men stared at one another until Doug winked, letting him know he knew the score.
"Who is your new friend?" Jeff asked, breaking the stare-down.
"This is Lilly." Doug gripped her arm and shoved her toward Jeff. "A present from me."
"Why do I want a present from you?" Jeff asked.
Doug grabbed Lilly around her throat and turned her around, pulling up her shirt and revealing her breasts. "Because she has some great tits. Unless you're a fag."
Jeff stared at Lilly before smiling. "You ride bitch with me, bitch."
Chapter Twenty Two
"We're getting out on the count of three," John said.
"Don't… I'll be fine. They have guns," Murph said.
"Then we stay and watch you die, old man," Darlene whispered. "Is that what you really want?"
"Hell no. I just felt I had to say something. Go and find me a Band-Aid. I'm bleeding to death."
John leaned close to Darlene. "You stay with Murph. I can't risk you getting hurt."
"Bullshit," Darlene said.
"I'm serious. Tosha will back me up. No argument, please." John slid the door slowly open.
"What happened to counting until three?" Tosha asked.
John smiled at Tosha but caught the evil eye from Darlene. He turned and slipped out the door, pushing the boxes away as qui
etly as he could. He sat up and looked around but the front room was empty, although he could see people outside.
He dropped back down when he heard a gunshot but it wasn't in the building. He knew he'd need to move fast before the new gunfire would alert the two people inside.
Tosha was up and over the counter, sliding quietly as she moved. She squatted down in front of the door, her eyes watching behind John.
There were at least two people in the store and maybe more.
"I'm going first," Tosha whispered. "You get my back. But don't stare at my ass too long or your wifey will get pissed."
John nodded and watched Tosha as she began moving in a crouch. He kept his eyes off of her backside. When he was sure she was in a good spot, he followed suit, slipping a heavy metal creepy-looking display doll off a table. He tested it with his hands. It was a good weapon to use if he had to use it, and he knew he would.
Tosha was into the next room, moving quickly behind a table. She looked back at John and put two fingers up.
John nodded and pointed to the opposite side of the door Tosha was on, letting her know he would go to that side. Instead, she ran over to it and put her back against the wall. John shook his head but now she looked confused, so he waved at her to forget it.
Which she took to mean run into the next room before he could move.
John sighed and got up, careful not to make too much noise. The wooden floor was uneven, and the room was filled with tables packed with odd items for sale.
The worst thing to do would be to knock something over or step on a loose floorboard and have Tosha lose the element of surprise, but she also might need some backup.
John went through the door and stopped. Tosha was standing at the open back door and staring across the back yard.
"What’s the matter?"
"I'm just waiting for them to come back inside," Tosha said. "I don't know where they went off to. They left everything."
John was about to reply when he smelled the smoke.
He walked outside, not worrying about being spotted, and saw two bodies against the side of the house. They were both on fire, the wooden outside wall aflame as well.
"Shit. We need to get out of here," Tosha said next to him. "We need to grab Murph and Darlene."
"Why would they set them on fire, and the house? With all this stuff in it," John asked. It made no sense.
They got to the front of the store just as a man stepped inside the front door, with a lit Molotov cocktail. When he saw Tosha, he tried to react but she kicked him in the balls and he fell, shattering the incendiary bottle. The flames spread quickly in all directions.
John yanked open the door to the cubbyhole and helped the two out of their hiding place. "We need to move quickly."
"I can't," Murph said. He stood, blood covering his side, grimacing in pain. "Let me be the distraction."
"Shut up and walk old man. You're such a drama queen," Darlene said and began helping him. Tosha led the way.
John grabbed a couple more heavy statuettes from a table. They would be better than nothing in a fight. He heard a few people outside arguing and someone was clapping and yelling about the witch house burning. Even in these dark times, superstitious assholes prevailed. With resources depleted, the smart thing would have been to salvage anything they could from the building. Instead, they were torching it. Ignorant fools.
Tosha was already at a back wooden gate, peering through a gap. Darlene and Murph were slowly moving across the yard. At any moment, a horde of angry people could be coming around to catch them.
They made it through the fence, Murph bleeding profusely.
"We need to find somewhere safe to hide again, and quickly. He'll bleed out soon," Tosha said. "I'm going to run ahead."
John nodded. He took over helping his father from Darlene, who was having a tough time walking on her own. They couldn't go on like this. No food. No weapons. No speed and nowhere to hide…
"I found a place," Tosha said as she ran back. "It's only a couple of blocks. Can you carry him?"
John nodded.
"You aren't carrying me," Darlene said.
"I don't think I have the strength," Tosha said and then grinned. "No offense."
"None taken from you," Darlene shot back.
John felt like it took them an hour to walk to the building Tosha had found: State Street Diner, sitting in front of a torched motel and next to an abandoned gas station.
He could smell the smoke from the fire and see it behind them.
They entered. The windows had been boarded up but the front door was wide open.
"Did you check it out?" John asked Tosha.
She nodded. "Yeah… kinda. I poked my head inside. The place is a mess but everything seems intact. There's no blood or bodies or anyone hiding."
"Did you check the kitchen and bathrooms?"
Tosha grinned. "I'm about to now."
John wanted to argue with her about this not being safe, but Murph was in no shape to keep moving. Darlene helped John get the old man into the dining room area, where they put him in a corner booth.
"I'll find something to staunch the bleeding," John said.
Tosha was coming out of the men's bathroom and had a small hand sanitizer bottle. "Look what I found. It's like Christmas."
"Did you find paper towels or something for Murph?"
Tosha shook her head. "Give me one of your figurines so I have a good weapon."
The pair entered the kitchen. It looked ransacked but there was a pile of dish towels near the sink as well as three cooking pots and a skillet.
John prayed silently before turning the water faucet, and it was still working. He began filling a pot with water. "We can clean up his wounds."
"John, he's not going to make it," Tosha said quietly.
"He'll be good as new. Take this out with towels so Darlene can start cleaning him up."
"John…"
John turned and stared at her. "What the fuck did I just ask you to do?"
Tosha gritted her teeth but took the water and grabbed a stack of dishtowels, walking out of the kitchen.
John sunk down and put his head under the water, letting the grime run off his face before filling another pot. He wiped the dripping water from his eyes, mixed with tears.
Chapter Twenty Three
"Do you want me to get out and talk to him?" Ben asked and laughed at his own joke. "Oh, wait… my legs are broken. Anyone want to carry me?"
"Shut up," Russ said. He gripped the steering wheel.
The zombie tapped the AK-47 with his left hand and kept smiling. "Step out slowly so I can see you."
"I can't do that," Russ yelled. He glanced in the rearview and side mirrors in case another zombie was sneaking up, but it was clear. "And my passenger is in no shape to walk."
"Why not?"
"They broke my legs," Ben yelled. "Bastard humans. You know how they can be."
The zombie looked confused and took three steps forward. "Let me see your hands. All of you. Now."
"Do as he says and he won't shoot you right away. Let him get closer," Ben said.
"Fuck that," Bri said.
Ben put his two hands out the window. "Do it. I'll get us out of this. Trust me."
Russ kept his hands on the steering wheel. "I have no reason to trust you."
"True. But I can take him out and we can be on our merry way. I want to find the preggo just as much as you do. I want to taste her baby. We'll figure out all that when we get there. But we need to get there. Bri, put your hands on the dashboard so he approaches," Ben said. "But drop your pistol to me. Now."
"No fucking way," Bri said.
"Then we all die."
Russ glanced at Bri. "Don't you dare."
Bri moved to the open window and for a second Russ thought she wasn't listening to the insane suggestion by Ben until she heard the pistol hit the floor of the backseat.
"Thank you, ma'am," Ben said. He leaned in and out of the car.
"Buddy, what's your name?"
"Shut up," the zombie said and started walking toward the car. "You're not my friend. Remember that and we'll all get along." He kept a wide angle but went to the driver's side of the car and pointed the rifle at Russ. "Get out. Slowly."
"Are you here to rescue me?" Ben asked. "Will you carry me?"
The zombie shook his head but kept his eyes on Russ, who reached down and opened the door. Russ put one foot on the ground, judging the distance between the car and the zombie. It was too far to make a move and he knew it. The zombie smiled, knowing it as well.
"Maybe we can make a deal," Russ said.
"Get on your knees." The zombie looked at Bri. "Keep your hands where I can see them."
Russ tried to lean against the car. He'd have a better chance of subduing the zombie if he was on his feet.
The zombie pointed the AK-47 at Russ. "Do you want me to shoot your legs out from under you so you do as I say? On your knees."
"Can we talk?" Russ asked, trying to stall.
"Don't be such a pussy. Fall to the ground," Ben said from the backseat. "Now."
Russ threw himself down, dropping onto his hands and stomach as the shot was fired. He rolled over and was about to jump up and attack the zombie when he saw it fall.
Bri had rushed from the car and past him, kicking the zombie for good measure and taking the rifle, searching the zombie's pockets for ammo. "He's holed up somewhere close to here. We can find the rest of his stash."
"Zombies don't need a stash," Ben said.
Russ stood and was met by a grinning Ben aiming the pistol at his crotch.
Bri was still behind Russ, helping herself to whatever the zombie carried.
Russ slowly raised his hands. He knew they'd traded one dangerous foe for another. How stupid to give Ben a weapon.
"Russ, I need to ask you a serious question. Think on your answer but be quick about it before Bri realizes what's going on and we have a Mexican standoff in the street… what is your favorite band of all time?"
"Huh?"
Ben shook his head. "Wrong answer. You only get one. Tell me who your favorite band is. I want to know."
"Zebra," Russ said.
Ben raised an eyebrow. "Who? Did you make that up?"
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