“We play every two or three nights. I’m part of the rotating patrol units. Mostly get to stare at the ocean all day. Beats a real job. We get off at dusk and drink a few cold ones. Play some cards when we get enough guys and girls who want to join in.” Terry grinned. “The stakes are high, though… we gamble with hundred dollar bills.”
“I don’t have any cash,” Mitch said.
Terry laughed and slapped Mitch on the back. “We play cards in the old bank. There are stacks of hundreds on the counter. It’s Monopoly money now. Isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. If we wanted to play for actual stakes, we’d use food and gas and ammo. Nobody wants to lose that. Besides, The Lich Lord said no real gambling. This is just for fun. A group of people gathering to have some fun and talk. You in?”
“I’ll have to see what my duties are but it does sound like a blast,” Mitch said.
“Talk to you soon…”
When the man lingered, stretching out his words, Mitch finally got it. “Oh, I’m Mitch.”
“Nice to meet you. Got a place to crash?”
“Yes, he does,” Tosha said as she walked up and put a hand on Mitch’s arm.
She was wearing tight black shorts and a faded Black Sabbath concert shirt, her red hair pulled back in a ponytail. She smiled at Terry, who wished them both a good night and walked away.
“I don’t trust that guy,” Tosha said.
“Why? He seems nice and friendly.”
“Something about the guy creeps me out. Not even the way he stares at my ass, either. I have no problem with that. He just always seems like he has something he wants to ask me but is afraid, and I think it’s because he knows I work directly with The Lich Lord,” Tosha said.
“Speaking of which… that guy creeps me out.”
Tosha laughed. “I get a chill every time I’m near him. He is intimidating. I worked out a system with him so I can get my daily assignment without having to sit down in a dark room and have a chat with The Lich Lord now. It’s a much better way to start my day.”
“I’m sure it is.”
Tosha took Mitch by the hand and they started walking down the street. This had been A1A. The street signs and traffic lights were still intact for the most part, but no one paid any attention to them anymore. Even though it was later at night, the streets were alive with crowds of people. Most of them were in small groups, chatting, and a few kids were weaving in and out.
It was like being at a carnival to Mitch. He hadn’t been near this many people in forever. So much laughing and loud talking instead of everything being a whisper or conversing with some hand signs and nods of the head.
“Are you alright?” Tosha asked Mitch.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’re shaking.” Tosha gripped his hand and smiled. “It’s all good. You’re in a safe place. You’re surrounded by friends now. People who can still breathe and don’t want to kill you. Well, most of them, anyway.”
Mitch laughed. “Didn’t think I’d be acting like this. I never had an issue in Kuwait or when I returned home. I’m just feeling overwhelmed with so many people and the chaotic pattern as they come and go.”
“I get it. Come with me. You can crash at my place. It’s nice and quiet,” Tosha said. “Hold my hand and squeeze if you get freaked out by anything.”
Mitch tried to act normal but kept his head down so he didn’t see so many people at once. As they walked, he heard music playing and sighed. When was the last time he’d heard anything other than his own breathing or the sounds of zombies?
They walked down the road as the music got louder. It was really beautiful to hear.
“What’s that gate?” Mitch asked as they passed by. The music was emanating from the other side and he knew it was an amplified violin. Someone was actually performing.
“This was the original gate when The Promised Land was nothing more than a fortified street. As we’ve grown and expanded in all directions, we no longer need it. But everyone knows, if something bad happens, to get to it and go inside. It’s the fortress within the fortress now. To our left is the ocean. We have the wall surrounding us. You’ll be doing guard duty, but not on this side. To the west overlooking the river,” Tosha said.
“I’m happy to help.”
“My place is right up the road. When we get there, you’ll need to help me out of my clothes,” Tosha said.
Chapter Thirteen
The zombie was moving too fast.
Darlene climbed down off of the antenna and got to the second floor of the building and the zombie was already standing in the parking lot and ready to fight.
“Who are you?” Darlene asked. She could feel the hatred emanating off of the zombie. Something was very wrong.
She noticed the arms and shook her head, thinking she was seeing things.
The zombie had wicked-looking hooks for arms, black metallic curved weapons spiked with barbs. His body had been fashioned from pieces of many other dead bodies like a Frankenstein monster. It was all unsettling, even to Darlene.
He was intelligent but the anger and hate overrode his senses. He was a killing machine and, as Darlene easily surfed through his rambling thoughts, she knew he’d been sent here with a purpose.
To kill her. By her son.
Darlene knew he wasn’t going to speak. Might not be capable of speech once he opened his mouth and she saw the razor-sharp teeth. Two rows jammed into the mouth.
The zombie advanced, slowly and methodically. It wasn’t a dumb hungry beast. It definitely had an attack plan in mind as it started to circle slightly to Darlene’s left.
Darlene didn’t want a long, drawn-out battle. She wanted to end this quickly.
When she tried to get inside his mind, she wasn’t surprised to find she couldn’t, typical in her kind. They could read the living’s thoughts easily but not those of one another. She figured she had nothing to lose by trying.
“Hopefully my son is watching,” Darlene said and sent what she assumed would be a ray of energy to blow the zombie’s head off. She wanted to make a show in case her son was nearby.
Nothing happened, other than the energy bounced off of the zombie.
The zombie smiled before clicking its thin lips together, clanking the teeth in its overfilled mouth.
It advanced slowly.
Darlene decided to use her powers to rip one of its arms off and beat the zombie with it, amused at the idea.
She felt a slight tug on the arm and it briefly moved but then the zombie stopped walking and the arm went back into place, a tug of war Darlene knew she couldn’t win. She released it.
Darlene searched for other zombies in the area. Maybe she could get them to do her dirty work or at least distract the zombie.
She knew it was pointless. There wasn’t a zombie for miles and miles, and, even if she could search and find them, they’d be too far away and moving too slowly to help.
Darlene searched through the arsenal she knew about in her head and searched for something she hadn’t used yet.
The zombie advanced, moving faster with each step and swinging its arms as it moved, cutting through the air before it. The hooks made whistling noises as they were swung.
“I’m going to guess there’s no talking you out of this, right? I can’t make you an offer you can’t refuse,” Darlene said.
She took three steps to her left, getting away from the building. She didn’t know the range of his arm-hooks and didn’t want to get caught with her back to the wall and no escape.
Darlene knew even thinking about escape and a defensive position was going to get her killed. She wasn’t worried about getting bit; although, those teeth would do some damage.
The zombie took a step forward and swung his hooks, missing Darlene by a full foot, but she knew what he was doing: trying to fake her into thinking he didn’t have even more range with them.
She had to smile. “What were you before, I wonder? Some super Navy SEAL or a hitman? Something even deadlier
?”
The zombie made a disturbing sound, deep in its throat, which sounded like a chuckle.
Darlene shook her head, her fists up as she tried another psionic attack that failed. She didn’t know if the zombie was immune or had help blocking from her son but she needed a new strategy.
She decided talking to him, even if he didn’t respond, would give her some time to think. Darlene moved quickly three steps to her right, amazed at how fast the zombie responded and shadowed her move.
“Can I keep guessing what you were before my son did this shit to you?”
The zombie didn’t respond, other than to inch forward swinging the hooks.
“Since you technically didn’t say no I’m going to keep guessing. Military? I’m thinking Marines or Army. Possibly a police officer,” Darlene said.
The attack came fast and furious, and it was all Darlene could do to put up a mental shield in front of her body in time to feel the hooks pounding against it, ripping minute holes where they landed. She wouldn’t be able to hold it forever.
After nearly fifty glancing blows, the zombie stepped back and smiled again.
Darlene went through her inventory of offensive weapons, throwing two or three together at a time. It pushed the zombie back once or twice but he absorbed the attacks.
She was about to put half a dozen together, feeling herself getting tired, when the zombie put up a hook as if to ask a question.
Darlene stopped and stared.
“Before I kill you… he told me to tell you… what I used to be,” the zombie growled, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.
“Did I guess right?” Darlene asked, readying a few things to toss at him if it was a trick or he immediately attacked again.
“I was a mall security loser,” the zombie said.
It was like a slap in the face to Darlene.
John Murphy, the father of her son and the only thing that had ever really made sense to her, had been a mall cop. They’d often joked about it.
“Fuck you. I wish I’d never given you his name. Even thought about it, you fucking piece of shit. I’m going to enjoy killing you now, fucker. Blood or no blood,” Darlene said and pushed out every ounce of energy she had at the zombie.
It looked like a truck had hit the zombie as it crumpled back and fell to the ground, chunks of flesh flying in all directions. One of his hooks had fallen off, still twitching.
Darlene pulled her Desert Eagle, which she still had at all times, and stepped on the chest of the zombie.
“I’ll see you in Hell, bitch,” Darlene said and aimed the weapon at the zombie’s face.
The zombie was no longer smiling. Most of its teeth had been punched out and its lips were shredded.
“I was a shoe salesman,” the zombie slurred.
“Then your life has always sucked,” Darlene said and shot it twice in the face.
The zombie stopped moving.
Darlene was exhausted but she knew if she dropped her guard she’d be in trouble.
“I hope you’re happy. I don’t know what the point of this was or why you’re trying to kill me, but it needs to end,” Darlene yelled. She turned in place, expecting to see her son materialize and confront her. Once and for all. Finally.
Nothing.
Darlene went back to her antenna and surveyed the area for more zombie assassins.
She was alone again.
Music, faint and far away, teased her. She listened more intently to find the source.
Someone was playing an electric violin in The Promised Land.
People were enjoying themselves, as if nothing outside the walls mattered.
Darlene wanted to feel that same naive safety.
She didn’t know how it was possible but Darlene hugged the antenna and began to cry, long and hard.
Chapter Fourteen
Mitch woke but didn’t open his eyes. He could feel the presence of someone close to him and, at first, he didn’t know where he was or if it was a zombie.
He heard light snoring. He relaxed and remembered the great night he’d had with the redhead, who was now sleeping in the bed.
Tosha.
Mitch knew she was a bit loose but she was also a lot of fun, and, in this day and age, you couldn’t be too picky. The fact she had a great body and she had shown him a thing or two was a bonus. He also knew she was extremely dangerous and he couldn’t drop his guard around her. Being her boy toy would allow him to get ingrained in The Promised Land quickly, which was a good thing. He’d need to get in line and be as helpful as possible because he wanted to stay here. Mitch wanted to be a part of something again, like he’d been with the military.
He slipped a foot off the bed and Tosha was immediately awake, her hand reaching under her pillow.
“Relax. Just me. I need to go to the bathroom,” Mitch said.
Tosha smiled and pushed the knife back in place, rolling onto her side. “Hurry up. I have something for you.”
Mitch went to the bathroom, marveling, like he’d done last night, at how nice her residence was. She’d lured him to spend the night with the thought there was currently no housing for him; although, he thought she’d set it all up. Tosha lived in a two story house overlooking the beach. A thick stone wall had been built, four feet high, with a nasty barbed wire running over the top of a chain-link fence. When he looked out the window, now that it was light out, he could see the trenches dug in the yard and sharpened sticks jutting at angle towards the water. Clearly, Tosha wasn’t going to have people over to grill in the yard anytime soon.
When he got back to her bedroom, Tosha was on her stomach with her ass in the air and a smile on her face.
She was even hotter than he’d first noticed now that she was naked. She was lean and tight and sexy.
“See anything back there you like?” Tosha asked.
“Yes,” was all Mitch could say before he slid his hands up her thighs.
“Fuck me real quick. We have a lot to do today,” she said.
“Like what? I thought we could get to know each other a little bit better today,” he said.
Tosha laughed. “I need to take out another patrol.”
“Where are we going?”
Tosha rolled over onto her back and spread her legs. “We aren’t going anywhere. I have a full team. You’re going to be assigned to the wall patrol. You know how to shoot a weapon and there aren’t enough people who can do it. Don’t worry. I’ll conveniently forget to get you a housing allowance and you can crash here for a few days. Maybe a week. We’ll see if you annoy the shit out of me. I’m not the kind of girl you take home to mom or play house with, though. Don’t get any stupid ideas.”
“I have no preconceived ideas,” Mitch said.
“Good. Now shut up and fuck me.”
* * * * *
Mitch was antsy. When Tosha had dropped him off like a parent sending her child to his first day of school, more than a few of the men and women on the wall above had openly laughed.
“Fuck them. Ignore their bullshit. Just get up there and do your job. Your shift ends at five. Walk back to my house and we’ll have dinner. I only have this car because I have to do a quick run up the road for something,” Tosha said.
“You sure I can’t tag along with you?”
Tosha frowned. “Don’t be Needy Mitch. Be Fun Mitch so we can keep fucking and enjoying the company. Got it?”
Mitch nodded and got out. She drove away and he scaled the ladder quickly.
Tosha had given him his weapons back and he had one of his bug out bags with him. He didn’t really need it but he thought it felt safe.
The wall itself was over ten feet high, with a wooden four foot wide path. Sheets of metal rose another five feet as a shield, with a stand ten foot by ten foot every three hundred feet or so. It reminded Mitch of a castle wall. He remembered seeing The Lord of The Rings movies and loving the battle scenes. He hoped there wouldn’t be a battle while he was up here. He glanced over the side and
saw the wall was built only a few feet from the river. There wasn’t much room below for someone to stand.
A few rotting bodies could be seen, just offshore in the water, riding the gentle waves.
“Hey, new guy… over here,” a giant of a man shouted from down the line.
Mitch knew there was going to be trouble. He’d be tested right away, by the biggest bully on the block, because he knew he looked like a threat. All he wanted to do was walk back and forth on the wall for his shift and go back to Tosha’s and do some more exploring of her body.
A few of the other people on the wall grinned and got into positions against the wall, waiting for the confrontation.
The giant man, at least eight inches over Mitch, who stood at six foot, was standing in the middle of the next platform. He’d put his weapon and gear down and was flexing his muscles.
Mitch didn’t bother to put down his gear. He knew a bully like this, with an audience, wanted to have a long, drawn out chat to scare his victim first. He wanted to show off like this was a pro wrestling event and he was the big, bad villain.
There was no time for any of it. Mitch was already hot standing out here and needed a pair of sunglasses. The giant had a pair of expensive-looking ones on top of his head.
“You’re really wearing a wifebeater in Florida? Your big arms are going to get sunburned. That’s not pleasant when all you want to do is sleep at night. It’s also unpleasant when you have a broken finger,” Mitch said as he approached with a smile.
The giant opened his mouth to speak. The next sound out of it was a groan, as Mitch used his quick reflexes to reach out and grab the man’s hand, immediately attacking his pinkie finger.
It didn’t matter how big you were, if someone could get control of your finger, preferably the pinkie, he could bring you to your knees.
Mitch pulled and snapped the finger backwards with such force he thought he’d broken the bones through the skin. The giant went down on one knee, stunned, and Mitch elbowed him across the face, using the advantage of the man being so big to strike from below and break his nose.
Dying Days 7 Page 7
