“Where’s Brownie when we need him,” Bubba muttered. “If ever there was a time for a Taser toting kid to be around, this was it. It ain’t like that kid to miss a prime opportunity.”
“Shut up,” said the person with the gun. “Hands up, everyone!”
“I’m holding a baby,” Miz Demetrice protested.
“Then hold the baby’s hands up!” the person with the gun said illogically.
Bubba sighed. “I guess we don’t need to go looking for the person who done Kristoph in, then.”
The person with the gun snarled, “No, we don’t, do we?”
Miz Demetrice looked around the room. “You mean the killer’s in here?”
“Of course,” the person with the gun snapped. “Are you all stupid? The killer is right here!” The gun pointed down at the living room floor. Five pairs of adult eyes followed the gun’s barrel as it pointed. The two pairs of baby eyes didn’t follow because they didn’t care much.
“The killer is the living room floor?” Alfonzo asked.
“Shut up!” the person with the gun said again.
Precious came trotting in, holding a T-bone in her mouth. For inundating herself into a dangerous situation, she looked remarkably happy.
“Did you give my dog a steak?” Bubba demanded.
“She was barking at me and it’s Angus beef,” the person with the gun said. “That piece cost me $11.99. Your dog’s eating good.”
“Did you flatten my tires?” Bubba asked. “And cut my phone line?”
“I did, and I would do it again!” the person with the gun said.
“That truck dint do nothing to you,” Bubba said. He patted Blanca, or maybe it was Blanco, (but no one could do that to a child, could they?) on the belly.
“Miz Adelia will be calling the po-lice right now,” Miz Demetrice said firmly.
The person with the gun laughed. “Your housekeeper went to town a half hour ago. She got a call from the hospital about her mother. She won’t be back until she finds out that her mother isn’t in the hospital.”
“Very diabolical,” Miz Demetrice approved. “You don’t intend on killing all of us, do you?”
“No, not unless I have to,” the person said. “All I want is him.” The gun’s barrel directed itself at Bubba.
“What’d I do?”
“Bubba killed Kristoph,” McGeorge announced to the group at large, “and I’m going to kill him.” They all stared at McGeorge. She was still short with blonde streaked hair that was equally short. Her blue eyes were icy as she stared back. She wore a t-shirt that said “WARNING! If the zombies chase us, I’m tripping you.” The gun she held was a large one with a six inch long barrel. Some kind of .44, if Bubba knew his mother’s weapons. It might have been his mother’s gun. McGeorge could have been wandering through both of their houses looking for potential weapons to use in framing other people. In fact, his mother probably gave guns away to wandering homicidal psychopaths because they looked like they might need one.
It was funny that McGeorge didn’t really look like a homicidal psychopath. It was even funnier that Bubba had an idea what a homicidal psychopath should look like.
“Wait,” Miz Demetrice said, “I thought the killer was you.”
McGeorge stared at Miz Demetrice and then she said, “You think I killed Kristoph? I loved him. I never would have killed him.”
“Bubba didn’t murder Kristoph,” Willodean said.
“You’d say that, you’re his girlfriend and the police,” McGeorge snapped.
“Really, Bubba didn’t murder—”
“If you say anything else, I’ll shoot you,” McGeorge said.
Bubba rose up from the baby. “You might shoot her but a second after that you’ll be sorrier than I kin say.”
The fury in Bubba’s face must have registered with McGeorge because she took a step back. The end of the gun wavered. “I’ll shoot you first,” she warned. “There’s…uh…a bunch of bullets in this gun.”
“There are six rounds,” Miz Demetrice said helpfully. “That’s a Colt Anaconda. You should watch out for the kick.”
“Ma,” Bubba said warningly.
“What?” his mother protested. “A person should know about the gun they’re carrying.”
“Is that one of yours?” Bubba demanded. “Jesus wept, Ma.”
“Yes. Apparently, the young lady was digging around the mansion.”
“People around town said you had a lot of guns,” McGeorge defended herself, “and I didn’t have time to file paperwork and wait two weeks.”
“I think we need to get you a gun safe, Ma,” Bubba said.
“Shut up,” McGeorge said again, glaring at the group of people before her. “Jesus, who smells like pee?”
Someone charged down the hallway and Precious yipped as someone stepped on her paw.
Bam Bam and David Beathard came to a stop just in front of McGeorge and seemed to have their eyes locked on the weapon in McGeorge’s hands. McGeorge backed up marginally and turned halfway in order to get them all in her sights at the same time. “Stop!” she screamed but they were already stopped, frozen into place by the sight of a big bang-bang thing.
“I think we be in the wrong house,” Bam Bam said conversationally to David. “We’ll just head back to—”
“No one’s going anywhere!” McGeorge yelled. The end of the gun wavered. Then it went back and forth between Bubba and Bam Bam, who stood next to David.
Bam Bam knew an opportunity to talk himself out of a situation when one arose. “We came in the back way on account that them DEA peeps are—”
“Bam Bam!” Bubba said before Bam Bam could say more. It was possible that the DEA agents would figure out something was amiss and save their collective sets of bacon, but not if Bam Bam spilled the beans. “They dropped the charges.”
McGeorge’s brows knitted together into a fierce frown.
Bam Bam nodded weakly. “They did. And that fella, Gus, I tole you about, well, his big secret was that illegal cockroach racing after hours. Can you believe that shizz? I couldn’t get you on the phone.” He glanced at McGeorge. “Say, darling, is that a gun or you just happy to see me?”
“That gun isn’t as big as Nancy’s .50 caliber Smith and Wesson,” David remarked. “Nancy said hers would take down an elephant.”
McGeorge glanced down at the revolver. “It’s not? I didn’t see a .50 caliber Smith and Wesson in the big house. Who’s Nancy?”
“He’s talking about a gun that belonged to another woman who tried to murder another group of people, dear,” Miz Demetrice said accommodatingly.
“So you’re planning on shooting Bubba,” Alfonzo said, “and only Bubba?”
“He murdered Kristoph,” McGeorge snarled.
“Kristoph wasn’t—” Willodean’s mouth slammed shut when McGeorge rotated the gun’s barrel in her direction.
“Uh-uh-uh. What did I tell you?” McGeorge said. “No more talking from the deputy who likes to grab a girl’s finger.”
Willodean sighed.
“Okay, then just leave all these people be, and I’ll go with you,” Bubba said, “wherever you want to take me. No need to involve them or them babies.”
McGeorge frowned again. She plainly didn’t want to take a suggestion from Bubba. “You are coming with me,” she said slowly, “but I can’t leave them here. I could tie them up.” She took a moment to consider the plan.
“You can’t tie up little babies!” Pilar said.
Clearly McGeorge hadn’t taken into account the presence of toddlers. Blanca (or was it Blanco?) took the moment to say, “Barfloo!”
“They might suffocate or something,” Pilar went on. “I promise I won’t call the police. I don’t like the police, you know. They always think we’re doing something illegal. It’s terrible to have la policía looking at you funny all the time.”
“I can’t…” McGeorge said and stopped. “I can’t trust you to do that. I’m not that stupid.” She brighten
ed suddenly. “I have a company van. Everyone’s going. Then when I’m done with Bubba, it doesn’t matter. You can tell whomever you want. Tell it to CNN or maybe Joan Rivers.”
“You can’t have the babies watch!” Miz Demetrice said as if it were fine that McGeorge was going to kill Bubba in front of them, but God forbid she did it in front of small children. Murdering Bubba was okee-dokee, but not in front of the kids.
“Thanks, Ma,” Bubba said dryly.
“They won’t have to watch,” McGeorge promised. She got very serious again, “but you all are coming with us.”
“Dang, Bubba,” Bam Bam said, “don’t you know no body who ain’t a stone cold killer?”
* * *
In an uneasy group, they shuffled into the Pegramville High School gymnasium. The film crew had been busy setting up the scene for the day’s shooting. Reflective sheets had been set up to maximize the lights in the room. Cameras were in place, along with microphones, boom poles, and rigging equipment. Marks had been made on the floor for the various actors to take their cues from. But no one was around.
Bubba held the door open and said, “The lights are over there.” The only thing he had been happy about was that Precious had been left at the caretaker’s house, content to chew on the remnants of the T-bone steak. Precious hadn’t cottoned to the fact that she was being left behind until the front door had closed and she was on the wrong side.
McGeorge pressed her gun to the back of Willodean’s head and had one arm wrapped around the deputy’s neck to keep her in place. Willodean looked less happy about the whole thing than Bubba did. Willodean had come to see him out of uniform and her service weapon was likely in her Jeep locked in the safety box in the back of the car, along with her night stick and her handy cans of mace. Bet she don’t do that again.
“You get those lights on,” McGeorge said, “and no funny stuff. Everyone else inside.”
“This is what a brotha gets,” Bam Bam said, “when he try to be good for a change. All I was trying to do was help Bubba out and get this film on track so I could get my quarter percentage point.”
Bubba got the lights on and illuminated the entire gym. The previously prepared equipment lay all over the gym’s floor, ready for whatever Risley Risto was going to do on this particular day of filming. The school had been closed in response to the filming and everyone was happy that money was falling into their coffers.
“Oh, my goodness,” Miz Demetrice said loudly, “I cain’t believe we’ve been kidnapped and held at the Pegramville High School gymnasium!”
Everyone looked at her oddly for a moment.
McGeorge indicated that Bubba should go to the podium on one side of the gym. When the school had its weekly group meetings, it was in the gym that all the students gathered, and the podium was used by the various people who needed to speak at those functions. It was the podium that Risley was using in the big finale shots. They made their way across the glassy floor, avoiding the various accoutrements of the film industry, until they were next to the podium, waiting for McGeorge’s next move.
“Here,” McGeorge said. “Kristoph would want it that way,” she added solemnly. She wiped a tear away from her eye.
The doors to the gym suddenly banged open and people started flowing inward. Bubba looked up and saw Risley, accompanied by Marquita and the redhead. Then there were some of the actors including Tandy North and Alex Luis. They were followed by Schuler and Simone Sheats. They were all talking at once as they poured in, not even paying attention to what was happening on the other side of the gym.
Risley said loudly, “And then the midget said to the preacher—”
“Well, crap on a popsicle stick,” Tandy said just as loudly, looking at McGeorge and accurately taking in the new situation. A cigarette dangled from the side of her mouth and she puffed on it as she stopped.
“No, the midget didn’t say that,” Risley said. “He said—”
“Crap on a pogo stick?” Alex Luis asked.
“No, he said…is that a gun?”
There was a momentary lapse in conversation.
“That isn’t funny, Ris,” Marquita said. “Why would a midget say ‘Is that a gun?’ It doesn’t even make sense. The preacher didn’t even have a gun.”
Risley pointed at McGeorge, who was gaping at the director and the rest of the film crew. “No, that’s a gun? What are you doing with a gun, McGeorge? I don’t remember a .44 from the script? Did we add a .44 in the script? And are these extras?”
“No one move!” McGeorge shrieked.
It finally dawned on Risley that McGeorge was serious. “That’s a real gun,” he said to Marquita. “McGeorge, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to kill Bubba, the man who killed Kristoph,” McGeorge announced into the wide open area of the gym. The words echoed around the room for a long moment. Then she felt compelled to fill in the silence. “I might not have seen it, but he was there and it was his knife. He must have done it!”
“But—” Risley said and then abruptly stopped.
Marquita looked at Bubba. “You said you didn’t kill Kristoph.”
“I dint kill Kristoph,” Bubba said tiredly. He saw Willodean shaking her head and frowned at her. He didn’t want her trying to overpower McGeorge and getting shot in the process.
“Move over to the middle of the gym,” McGeorge ordered. Risley and the rest moved uncertainly toward the middle of the room.
“Just let the police deal with Bubba,” Tandy suggested. “That way you don’t have to go to jail, McGeorge. You don’t have to go through that agony. I’m pretty sure that Kristoph wouldn’t have wanted you to go to jail.”
“The police aren’t dealing with the problem!” McGeorge shouted. She shook the gun at Willodean. “She’s the police! She’s his girlfriend! They’re covering it up!”
“They’re not covering it up,” Risley said. “I got a call from the sheriff this morning. They’re going to make an announcement about Kristoph’s death and it isn’t what you think it is.” He held up his iPhone and showed it to McGeorge.
McGeorge sputtered indecisively. “What kind of announcement?” Then she perked up and said, “Everyone put their cellphones in the middle of the room! Take them out of your pockets and throw them down! Right now or the deputy gets it!”
Risley threw his on the gym floor and it cracked ominously. It was followed by a few others. Then everyone got into the act. Bam Bam tossed his like he was making a basketball score through a hoop. “I needed a new one, anyway,” he said.
Tandy threw an Android down. Then she threw an iPhone down. She followed it with a Blackberry. “What?” she asked, with a quick puff on her cigarette. “I like phones.”
“Okay,” McGeorge said, looking at Bubba. “No one move. Only Bubba needs to get hurt. He’s responsible for Kristoph’s death, so he has to pay. Move over by the podium, Bubba. That’s where Kristoph would have stood and—”
That was when the DEA broke into the door. Bubba had seen them as he had driven the company van past the entrance to the Snoddy Estate. They had seen him too. McGeorge had made him drive while she held the rest of the people hostage in the back. Bubba had been hoping that he hadn’t messed with the DEA agents too much and that they would follow him again. Perhaps they would even think he was up to something new since he was “illicitly” driving a film crew van.
Voila. DEA agents in the thick of things.
Agent Warley Smith variously pointed his weapon at Bubba, Risley, and then Miz Demetrice. He yelled, “NO ONE MOVE! DEA!”
“Could this get any better?” Tandy asked sarcastically.
“No one move, I said!” Smith yelled again.
“Boofarg!” Carlotta yelled although Bubba was wondering if Carlotta was a Carlos.
“There aren’t any drugs in here!” Risley shouted. He glanced at Tandy. “Tandy?”
Tandy looked at the ceiling and then at the floor. “Nope,” she said, “no H. Not at all.”
“
What’s going on?” Smith yelled.
“She’s got a gun on the sheriff’s deputy!” Miz Demetrice shouted. “Shoot McGeorge!”
“Who’s McGeorge?” Smith asked. He pointed his gun at various females until several people pointed at McGeorge, who was trying to hide behind Willodean. “PUT THE WEAPON DOWN!”
“I will not!” McGeorge screeched. “I’ll shoot her if you move! Put YOUR guns down! You’re making a mistake!”
“Ma’am, we’re the government,” Smith said. “We don’t back down and we don’t make mistakes!”
“Bubba killed Kristoph!” McGeorge screamed. “And he smells like pee! He doesn’t deserve to live!”
“I tried to explain that—” Risley said.
“We won’t be having any killing in here!” Smith yelled. “Everyone get out who isn’t a hostage or a federal agent!”
“NO BODY MOVES!” McGeorge pointed the weapon at Bubba.
But of course, that was when Sheriff John and Big Joe burst into the same doors as the DEA.
“NO ONE MOVE! POLICE!” Big Joe yelled. He swung his cannon sized pistol around at various targets, systematically targeting Special Agent Warley Smith and his men as well as Bubba and McGeorge.
“We got a call from someone with a cellphone,” Sheriff John said. “Mary Lou Treadwell said ya’ll was being kidnapped and held at the high school gym.”
Bubba glanced meaningfully at his mother, who shrugged.
“Shoot the woman with the gun who is STANDING RIGHT BEHIND ME!” Willodean screamed.
“Shut up!” McGeorge said forcefully and poked the end of the revolver into Willodean’s neck.
Bubba said, “No, don’t shoot Willodean! Shoot me!” He rushed forward and McGeorge pulled back in alarm. The executive assistant wavered in her attempt at homicidal behavior. The barrel of the gun went back and forth between Bubba and Willodean. Bubba stopped about ten feet away and said, “You don’t have to shoot her, McGeorge. I dint kill Kristoph but ifin you think I did, then don’t punish no one else for it. Just let her go and you kin have me.”
Willodean groaned loudly and said, “Oh the hell with this.”
Bubba and the Zigzaggery Zombies Page 25
