Dying Days 7

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Dying Days 7 Page 3

by Armand Rosamilia


  Mitch settled on the redhead with his scope.

  He couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing from this distance but, it was obvious from her stance, she’d just shot a weapon. Mitch scanned the surrounding area to see if there were any zombies nearby but he didn’t see anything moving. When he turned back to the redhead, she was already walking away with her group following.

  Less one member, who was now dead on the ground.

  Mitch needed to let them move on and disappear. He was looking for zombies and nothing more. It was obvious the redhead was a cold blooded killer and not one of the good guys, if there were any left in this world. She’d killed one of her own group.

  They had no chance of noticing Mitch on the roof even if they were looking for him. He was safe, and, if they did get too close, he could wipe them out before they knew what hit them.

  He was content to watch the group through his rifle scope until they were out of sight. They were just passing through like so many others had done; although, they looked too well-fed and well-clothed to be going too far. They were part of a group or they had a great fortified position.

  Mitch thought maybe they were looking for food. Even the biggest and baddest walls would only help for so long when you got hungry. Edible items were scarce. Even drinkable water was getting harder to find.

  He went back to scanning the area for zombies, sure the parking lot would fill with the undead soon enough after the gunshot. Mitch estimated in another twenty minutes he could freely shoot, the redhead and her group too far away to figure out where he was. By the time they ran back, if they even bothered, he’d stop shooting and hide until they grew bored or the many zombies in the area chased them off.

  A quarter of an hour later he still hadn’t seen anything moving. He switched positions on the roof to the main road side, expecting to see at least a couple of zombies wandering around.

  Nothing.

  Mitch slowly moved around the roof, taking his time looking at all four sides of his viewing world and not seeing a single zombie.

  It was as if they’d gotten on a bus and gone in search of the action, since Daytona Beach was so quiet. He wondered again about smart zombies and what all of this really meant.

  He knew the redhead wasn’t going to find anything worth their time because he’d already picked through most of the buildings on the main road methodically. He’d even snagged ten unopened boxes of NASCAR t-shirts across the street at the racetrack.

  Everything was hidden away in the deep recesses of the mall.

  Mitch didn’t need to leave. He could last quite awhile on his own. He had all the creature comforts he needed in this world: food, shelter, books and ammo.

  He couldn’t remember exactly how long it had been since he’d been with a large group of people. He’d been the protector. The one who watched their six. The one who stayed up all night killing zombies who wandered too close to wherever they put their heads for the night.

  In the end it had been all for nothing. Everyone else was dead, and everyone he tried to protect was going to die unless he rid the world of zombies.

  Mitch knew it made no sense but it was the thing that kept him going and away from other people. He needed to be a loner so he could work better without worry over losing another life.

  All he had to do was spend each day on this roof, going through his daily routine, and eventually there would be no more zombies or no more Mitch.

  The plan seemed to be working today because zombies were getting scarce.

  He changed positions every fifteen minutes out of boredom and to keep his legs moving and his back from stiffening up.

  On the main road, the redhead and her followers were walking past the mall, back the way they’d come. They were empty-handed except for their weapons and backpacks like Mitch knew they’d be.

  Nothing in this part of town. Keep moving. Nothing to see.

  Mitch wondered where they were headed and where they stayed. At this point in the game, most survivors he saw were malnourished and filthy.

  It looked like this group had new clothes on and might’ve had a decent bath lately, as well as new shoes. He thought back to how many others he’d seen didn’t even have footwear or had only one shoe on.

  There was something nagging at the back of Mitch’s neck about this group.

  I’m going to stay right here and find me a zombie to kill once they move out of hearing range, Mitch thought. If I leave the roof I put myself at risk.

  He had everything he needed. He’d outlast anyone. Eventually the zombies would run out of food and fall apart. It had taken longer than he’d thought but it was the probable reason he saw less and less of them.

  Mitch stood and went to the corner of the roof, using his scope to see the last glimpse of the redhead. She was still leading her group down the road.

  She was intriguing.

  She was beautiful.

  Mitch knew she was deadly.

  “Stop thinking with your little head and think with the big one on your shoulders, you asshole,” he whispered and put the rifle down.

  He needed to grab two bags and see where she was headed.

  Chapter Four

  Another pallet of cardboard boxes was dropped outside the bay door to the store and Mimzie sighed. Just when she’d thought her work was done for the day and she’d actually finished before dark.

  “Seriously? I need to run,” her daughter April said. She was smiling. “I have a date.”

  “You have work to do,” her father yelled from the office. “Then you can have your date… once I meet the boy, of course.”

  “Need I remind you both I’m in my twenties?” April asked, looking pissed.

  Mimzie grinned.

  “Need I remind you you’re still our child?” her father yelled.

  The women heard the chair sliding across the floor and both winced. If Tom was coming out of the office, it was to give a long speech about family and danger and a million other things.

  Mimzie loved her husband but when he got on a roll there was no stopping him.

  April groaned and rolled up her sleeves, running to the bay doors and the pallet.

  Tom came out like a bull but he was smiling. He stopped suddenly, nearly falling forward, and grabbed the doorframe. He stared at his wife and daughter with a scowl.

  “No one believes you’re going to do anything but blow hot air, hun,” Mimzie said. “We could use your help out here.”

  Tom bent over dramatically and put his hand on his back with a pained expression on his face. “I really would help but my back is killing me again.”

  “How about if I kick you in the ass? Will that help?” Mimzie asked and swung her foot.

  Tom stood up and clapped. “Fine. Let’s rip into this so April can go on her date with a boy I’m sure I don’t care for and then my lovely wife can cook us a hot meal and we can watch Reign of Fire before bed.”

  Mimzie shook her head. “If you make me watch that stupid movie one more time I’ll scream. We have other DVD’s we can put on.”

  “None of them are better than Reign of Fire.”

  Their other daughter, Carlie, laughed. “I have to agree with dad on this one. I could watch Christian Bale sleeping and be happy.”

  “He’s gross,” April said just to argue with her sister.

  “Let’s at least get all of these boxes inside and we can sort them in the morning. I’m getting tired,” Mimzie said. She loved the work and keeping busy but even she had limits. They might not be collecting actual paychecks but they were all well-fed and had a nice home they shared two blocks away.

  “Who is this guy?” Tom asked April, trying to hide a grin under his overgrown mustache. “Is he a local?”

  April rolled her eyes. “They’re all local. The dating pool dropped about ninety-nine point nine percent, remember? You take what you can get these days.”

  Her father smiled. “Good. I can tell you don’t like him. He’s just some guy who you’ll b
e friends with. My work here is done.” He turned and began walking back to his office.

  “Nice try. Help us unload this pallet or I swear I’ll hide the Reign of Fire DVD where you’ll never find it,” Mimzie said.

  “No need to be so hurtful. I’ll help,” her husband said.

  The four members of the family began unloading the pallet, putting boxes on a dolly and wheeling them into the vast stockroom.

  Carlie opened a box and pulled out a vintage pinup dress. “Ooh, I like this. How cool. Like the stuff we used to carry.” She held it up next to her small frame and it was dragging on the floor. She argued with everyone she was five foot tall but that might be stretching the truth a bit.

  Her sister, April, on the other hand, was close to five foot eight inches and full-figured. You could tell they were sisters despite their different sizes, with very pretty faces, easy smiles and long dark hair. They were also in their early twenties and had turned the heads of more men in The Promised Land than Mimzie or Tom was comfortable with.

  They’d gotten all of the boxes inside and Mimzie was closing the bay door when the redhead appeared with a smile and a rifle over her shoulder. Mimzie couldn’t remember her name but she knew she was trouble.

  Tosha looked around. “I thought this was just the clothes everyone found, where you came if you needed a new pair of socks.”

  “It’s much more than that now,” Mimzie said. Hopefully the woman was just popping in to get some clothes and be gone. The woman scared Mimzie. She had an unsettling look in her eyes and she carried the threat of death with her. Everyone had heard the stories about what she’d supposedly done on the outside with survivors who didn’t want to come peacefully to The Promised Land.

  Tosha started thumbing through the corsets and costumes hanging on the near wall.

  “We should have something in your size. Want to try something on?” Mimzie asked, looking at her family and trying to motion for them to leave while they could. Trying on clothes might take awhile and there was no need for everyone to stay.

  “You got anything in chainmail?” Tosha asked.

  Mimzie was confused at the question.

  Tosha laughed and twirled her red curls around a finger. “I’m a natural redhead. Ever hear of Red Sonja? Conan the Barbarian? No? I’m not just a pretty face. I can actually read.” She grinned. “It was my dad’s comic books when I was a kid but it still counts. Me and my sister would spend an entire weekend reading and rereading the same few issues. One of them had a hot redhead with a skimpy chainmail bikini and a big fucking sword. It would make the perfect outfit for me, don’t you think?”

  Mimzie could only smile. She didn’t know if the woman was joking or not.

  Tosha was scaring the Hell out of her.

  “I think I’d look good in a corset,” Tosha said, more to herself than to Mimzie. “Or would I look ridiculous? I have a big ass and big tits already. I’d look like a cartoon character.”

  “You’d look great. It would accentuate your natural curves,” Mimzie said.

  “I need some loose black t-shirts and at least two more pairs of jeans,” Tosha said. “I’m thinking extra large on the shirts.”

  Mr. Hand came out and rolled his eyes at his wife before making a dramatic gesture of locking the front door and going to the roll-down and standing next to it.

  Tosha grinned. “Am I holding you up from family time?”

  “Well, uh… we were just closing up. Long day today,” Mimzie said.

  “Same with me,” Tosha said and stared at Mimzie. “I had to kill someone on the outside. One of my team. Put a bullet through his fucking skull so he didn’t come back as a zombie. So I feel your pain over having such a rough day.”

  Mimzie felt her face get red.

  Tosha looked past Mimzie. “Which one of you is April?”

  No. Leave my girls alone, Mimzie thought but couldn’t say it out loud. Maybe Tosha was just being nosy. Just curious. Bored. Trying to scare them.

  “I am,” April said.

  Tosha laughed. “Oh, thank God. Nothing personal but the other one is about half your size. She’d be run over by a large cat on the outside.”

  “My daughters are both very special to me,” Mimzie said.

  “I’m sure they are. Both of them are very pretty. I like the goth thing they got going. Really sexy,” Tosha said and Mimzie knew she was doing more than just being nice. She was openly staring at her daughters.

  “Let me get you those black shirts,” Mimzie said and ran to where she thought they’d be. She needed Tosha to get what she needed and get out.

  “April, you put in for recon duty. This is your lucky day. You’ll report to me at first light at the main gate tomorrow. I trust you can handle a weapon?” Tosha asked.

  “No. There’s been a mistake,” Mr. Hand said. “She works with us. Here.”

  Tosha stared at Tom, seeming to see him for the first time. “Her name came up next on my list. She volunteered and she starts in the morning.” She turned towards April, who was smiling. “Wear something comfortable. It’s really hot and really shitty on the other side of the wall. I’ll have a backpack with food and extra ammo for you as well as your weapon. Understood?”

  “Tell her this is a mistake,” Mimzie shouted, forgetting the shirts.

  “It’s not. I did volunteer,” April said quietly. She was still smiling.

  “Why?” Carlie asked.

  “I don’t want to do this forever. I want to make a difference. I know how to shoot and I can take care of myself. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what’s still out there,” April said.

  “I forbid it. I’m your father,” Tom said.

  “I’m not a kid anymore,” April shot back. “I’m ready to go.”

  Before everyone began arguing, Tosha put up her hands and stepped between them.

  “Here’s what I know about this situation: April is an adult. You’re her parents. I get it. Lots of friction. I’m the enemy for taking her away from you, even though she’ll be back well before dinner tomorrow and she’ll have some cool stuff we find out in the real world. She’ll be fine,” Tosha said.

  “It’s dangerous,” Mr. Hand said.

  “It’s the world we live in.” Tosha sighed and turned to Mimzie. “I’ll need those black shirts, if you don’t mind.”

  April put her head down and went to stand next to Tosha.

  “Someone was killed from your team today,” Mr. Hand said. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

  “The zombies had nothing to do with his death. He was weak and a horny jerkoff. That’s all. He had no business being on the other side of that wall. I need someone I can trust. April, can I trust you?” Tosha stared at April.

  “Yes. I’m ready,” April said and smiled.

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll see you early,” Tosha said.

  Mimzie handed the redhead a stack of black shirts in her size, willing her to leave and never come back.

  “I need jeans,” Tosha said.

  “What size?” Mimzie asked.

  Tosha looked down. “Whatever size these are.” She unbuttoned them and pulled her pants down, revealing a teal thong. She smiled at Mr. Hand as his face went hot and he turned away.

  Mimzie wanted to punch the redhead in the face but instead she composed herself and waited patiently for Tosha to take off her pants and check the size.

  “I could also use another few pairs of undies, too,” Tosha said.

  Mimzie didn’t like the way her eyes were now firmly on April.

  Chapter Five

  It can never be easy, The Lich Lord mused as he stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. The other zombie had already spotted him but it was worth keeping still for a few minutes in the hope the other would think he wasn’t a threat.

  “You’re the one they call The Lich Lord. Got yerself a buncha meat-bags in The Promised Land. Word’s spreadin’ fer miles ya know. It won’t be long before someone tries ta take it fer
themself,” the zombie said. He was trying to act casual but The Lich Lord could see he was looking around too much. There were definitely reinforcements in the area, which was never good. The Lich Lord could easily beat any of their kind one on one but a group working together might prove difficult.

  Not that he had any doubt he’d still kick their asses.

  “Call off your dogs and I’ll be quick when I dispatch you,” The Lich Lord said.

  “I ‘member ya from school, ya know,” the zombie said.

  The Lich Lord was annoyed now. Even if this idiot did know him from many years ago, it didn’t matter. Nothing from the past mattered.

  “I’m not going to cut you down quickly now. I’m going to rip you apart over the next several hours,” The Lich Lord said and took a step forward.

  A net fell from the sky and dropped across his body, weights on the ends and chunks of metal to anchor it. It was followed by two more thick nets, all draping over him.

  “Oh, no… you caught me,” he said sarcastically and put his hands up, lifting the net from his face.

  “You was always a jock. Got the gals. Scared people like me,” the zombie said as he cautiously approached.

  The Lich Lord let him, waiting for the right moment to strike. He wanted to end this quickly.

  A dozen zombies came out of the shadows, surrounding The Lich Lord. They were all intelligent; although, The Lich Lord mused a stunt like this might prove that wrong.

  “I don’t know who you are,” The Lich Lord said. “I was also homeschooled so it wasn’t me.”

  The zombie looked confused. “Your name is Mark Peterson. We were in the same homeroom. I’m Cory Peters. I sat right in front of you.”

  The Lich Lord shook his head. “Not me. Sorry.”

  “You were the captain of the football team. Traveled all over Canada senior year playing hockey. Heard you got a scholarship to Minnesota but turned it down to be a doctor.”

  The Lich Lord sighed loudly and shook the netting. “I don’t care who you used to be or who I used to be. I’m The Lich Lord now and I’m growing tired of this chatting thing. I have work to do. Kindly take your net and your lackeys and I won’t harm you. Actually, not true… I’m going to crush your windpipe and yank your head off your neck in front of your lackeys but then they can leave if they want to.”

 

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