by David Rogers
“Gather, walk them over here, then we just use dogs to distract the dumb bastards when we get to the drop off—”
The man broke off as Happy hauled off and hit him. Hard. Right in the face, with one fist that just came up and slammed into his nose. Candice gasped as the man toppled over backwards like he’d been smacked with a brick or something. She watched as the man hit the ground on his back and lay motionless, but Happy wasn’t watching. By the time she tore her eyes off the man on the ground, she saw Happy had tackled two more of the foursome, taking them down to the ground in a tangled tumble of flailing arms and a lot of cursing.
“Fucking motherfucking bastards … kick your fucking ass … pull this shit … fucking take it … yeah not so fucking fun now … fuckers.” she heard amid the yells of pain coming from the two Happy was taking on. The fourth was apparently as caught by surprise as she was, but when he started unlimbering the rifle he had slung on his shoulder she looked at him. Then at Happy and the other two, still fighting on the crushed grass with zombies getting closer. Then back at the man with the rifle.
“He’s going to shoot Happy.” Candice realized in a burst of fear.
She fumbled for her pistol, jerking it out of the holster and using both hands to rack the slide to load the first round. Then she tried to point it out the window at the man with the rifle. The seatbelt, car seat, car door, and window were in the way of just about everything Austin had taught her about how to properly aim the gun. The man wasn’t looking at her. He was focused on the fight, trying to aim at Happy. Either he didn’t know how to use the rifle very well, or he didn’t want to hit the two people Happy was fighting with.
Whatever it was, he hadn’t shot yet. That gave Candice time to get her pistol ready. Rolling the window down some more, she got it down enough that she could bring the Shield to bear and put her other hand on it along with her right.
“Calmly. Slow down, remember to aim. Don’t hold your breath. Just aim, be sure, and squeeze.” she whispered as she aligned the dots on the man with the rifle. The trick was to put all three green sight dots in a line, straight and true, on the target. She was supposed to shoot at zombie’s heads, but zombies were slower and easier to aim at even though they staggered a lot.
And she didn’t want to miss the man. Somehow she figured shooting at him and missing would be bad. So she aimed at the biggest piece of him; his chest.
The gun in her hand went off with a bang, startling her despite having squeezed the trigger to make it shoot. She saw the man jump too, and his head looked in her direction. At her. Her eyes widened as she realized she’d missed. He started to turn, and she fired again, then again, then again; as fast as she could bring the gun down between shots. Bang, bang, bang.
One of them hit, she wasn’t sure which. The man cried out. A red splotch started spreading across his shirt, and he dropped the rifle. Then he fell to his knees, and looked down at himself. His hands came up slowly, feeling at the blood.
“If you have to shoot someone, either a zombie or a bad person, you have to keep shooting.” Austin’s voice said in her head. “Until you’re sure, until you’re absolutely sure, they’re not going to be able to hurt you. If you start shooting because you need to, you shoot until you’re sure you’re safe.”
Candice reaimed, this time at the man’s upper torso, made sure she was lined up correctly, and fired a fifth time. The man fell over, and lay twitching on the grass like the zombies Happy had been running over on the drive. She studied him with the gun still in her hands and pointed at him for a moment, making sure he wasn’t going to get up. It sure looked like he wasn’t.
The first time mom had shot a zombie, she’d thrown up; and Candice had been terrified. That hadn’t been the only time though, and mom had been pretty unhappy the next several times she’d used a gun. This wasn’t the first time Candice had shot someone, but that time had been when mom and Austin were there. And they’d handled things after her one shot had hit the bad guy who was keeping them from leaving Knoxville.
This time, it was just her. She stared at the man lying on the ground, twitching and jerking like his body wasn’t working right, and it was like her eyes were glued to him. He’d been a person, a real person, just a moment ago. Now he was … well, he wasn’t dead yet, but it really looked like he was going to be pretty quick.
She knew what guns were for, even before Austin and mom — mostly Austin — had started teaching her. They were dangerous. They were for emergencies, for when there was no other choice. This had been an emergency. There had been no other choice.
But, as she stared at the man she’d just shot, her tummy was squeezing and turning over inside her. Suddenly her hand was shaking some as she held the gun pointed at him, and she was both glad she was done shooting, and scared that she just had.
“Remember the rules.” she told herself as she stared at the man on the ground. “Rule 1, do whatever you have to so a zombie doesn’t get you. Rule 4, people can be bad guys.” Over and over she chanted them silently, and it helped. Not much, but a little.
Abruptly she remembered Happy, and the zombies, and just as abruptly she noticed them all again. Everything had seemed to slow down and vanish when she aimed the gun at the man with the rifle, but now it all showed back up. The zombies were much closer, now only seconds away from Happy.
He was winning; one of the men was lying motionless and barely visible in the grass, face down with one of his arms at a very strange angle that made her stomach turn over some more. She opened her mouth to yell at Happy, but he rolled over on the last man with his hands on the man’s head and twisted savagely. The man went limp suddenly, and Happy scrambled off him.
“Happy!” Candice screamed, her voice high and thin with fear and fright. “The zombies!”
Happy didn’t answer, but he was staggering to his feet. Then he went closer to the zombies. She started to shout again, then saw he was taking the leash off the first man’s arm, the one he’d laid out at the beginning of the fight. The dog was barking even more than it had already been, as the zombies came closer.
“Happy!”
The drunk straightened with the leash in his hand, and he appeared to say something to the dog. It sort of looked at him for a moment, still barking, then came with him when Happy lurched into a half-jog that made him look just like a zombie. Worse, in fact; zombies didn’t usually sway back and forth quite so much as Happy was. The dog was trotting alongside him though, without pulling at the leash like it had been.
“Come on boy. I know, I know.” Happy was saying as he came around the front of the car and opened the door. “I know, come on, let’s go. In the car, there you go. In the car, yes, that’s a good boy. Such a good boy, those fucking assholes won’t be bothering you no more.”
The dog leapt up in the driver’s seat, then came across and into Candice’s lap as Happy squeezed in behind it. Candice jumped in alarm. Then again as the dog began barking again, facing out the window at the zombies that were just now beginning to reach the four people who’d led them over here. As she looked, wincing from the dog’s volume as it continued barking right in front of her, she saw the first zombies fall to their knees before the four men lying in the grass and start eating.
Candice shuddered and averted her eyes. “Happy, let’s go!” she said loudly over the dog’s barking.
“We’re fucking going. Fucking assholes, fucking deserved it. Fuckers.”
The car lurched into motion, tires squealing, and pulled away from the scene. Candice considered the dog in her lap, then looked at her pistol and made sure the safety was on before transferring it into her left hand. Tentatively she held her right out in front of the dog’s face so it could sniff her. It stopped barking, looked at her, then at her hand, then licked her palm. She blinked at the dog, and very carefully did not look back at the zombies. Or the man she’d just shot.
“It’s all over boy. Don’t you worry. It’s all over now.” Happy said as he drove north. Glanci
ng at him, Candice watched as he reached out and patted the dog on its back. It was a pretty decent size, much bigger than she’d be able to pick up. Brown fur with black splotches in places, and pointy ears. It looked at her excitedly, then she winced as it turned abruptly in her lap so it could look at Happy; it was heavy too. Its tongue was dangling floppily from its mouth, as it panted heavily.
“He’s thirsty, probably hungry too.” Happy said, still patting the dog with one hand. The car was swerving a little, but for the first time all day it was actually driving more or less straight. More than it had been before now anyway. “Did you bring anything he can eat? Got any water, or just more Coke?”
“Uh, yeah.” Candice said faintly. “In my bag, in the back seat.”
“Just hang on a minute boy, and we’ll fix you up. How’s that sound? Huh? How’s that sound? Yeah, I know.” Happy said, rubbing the dog’s ears. “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay now.”
Chapter Fourteen — Making friends and plans
“This’ll work.” Happy said, and braked carefully. Gently. Candice had noticed that his driving had improved markedly since the fight, and she wasn’t sure why. But he’d been more attentive, and the random and regular changes of course and harsh turns, the jerking as he accelerated or slowed, were markedly reduced. Now he drove more like mom did. Not all the way, he still wove a little, but it was all more smoothed out.
She looked around, but there were no zombies in view. According to her reading of the map, they were somewhere sort of north of South Bay, but west of Belle Glade. Clear of both towns. Happy had turned off onto a little farm road after circling the zombie infested Belle Glade. Now he brought the car to a stop right in the middle of the dirt-and-gravel access running between two more overgrown fields.
“Okay, what’ve we got?” Happy said, setting the car’s brake and turning to her. He was still petting and rubbing the dog, now focusing on its neck. “What have we got for him, hmm Candy?”
“Uh, let me check.”
Candice looked around again, making sure it was clear, then opened her door. She got out, checked the area still again, then opened the back door on her side and unzipped her backpack. “What can he eat?”
“Water first.” Happy said, opening his own door. “And what have you got?”
“Here’s water.” Candice said, removing a liter bottle she’d filled from the water tote back at the house. She’d brought three, along with three Cokes; now two since Happy had wanted his coffee-and-Coke. “And I’ve got, um, granola bars, Pop Tarts, a bag of cereal, and some cans of Spaghetti-O’s.”
“Perfect.” Happy said.
“What?”
“The can. There’s fucking meatballs in it? Or something?”
“Uh yeah.” Candice said, looking at the label.
“Get that, and open it.”
He was doing something with his foot, kicking at the ground with his heel. Candice went into one of the backpack’s little pockets and found the can opener she’d brought, and started removing the Spaghetti-O’s lid. She drew the dog’s attention, and it watched her from the backseat as she worked on the can. Watched her intently.
“Okay … aw shit. I don’t guess you got a bag or something?” Happy said as she got the lid off. “Like a garbage bag or something?”
“Just this.” Candice said, reaching into the pack again and removing the Ziplock of cereal she’d brought.
He leaned down and looked at her through the car from the other side, then nodded when his bloodshot eyes focused on what she was holding up. “That’ll do. Dump the cereal out.”
“But—” Candice started to say
“On the ground over here. He’ll eat it too, don’t worry. He’s hungry, aren’t you boy? I know, those fuckers just wanted to use you up, didn’t treat you right. I know, I know, fuckers.”
“Okay.” she said, glancing at the dog. It was watching the can in her hand like it was magnetic, its eyes and head moving to stay fixated every time she shifted or changed position. And it jumped up against the window with its paws to watch her as she got out of the car and closed the door.
Going around the car, she saw Happy had created a shallow depression in the road surface. He half-snatched the bag out of her hand, fumbled it open, and poured the Cheerios out next to the hole before kneeling down and carefully spreading the bag out to line the bottom of the hole.
“Water?” he said as he finished smoothing the bag into place.
“Oh, hang on.” Candice said, opening the driver’s side rear door. The bottle she’d readied was on the seat. When she handed it to him, he twisted the cap off and tossed it over his shoulder, then poured water into the plastic covered hole.
“Okay boy. Dinner time.” he said, setting the bottle — carefully — aside before turning to the car. He beckoned to the dog. “Come on boy, it’s okay. Dinner, chow time.”
The dog scrambled across the front seats and dropped to the road, circled around Happy, and bent to begin lapping at the water. Happy sat back on his heels watching for several moments before looking up at Candice. “Give me that.” he told her, pointing at the open can.
Candice surrendered it to him, looked around again, then back at Happy and the dog. Then she mentally shrugged and went to the back of the car and used the bumper, then the trunk, to climb up on the roof so she could see better. As soon as she was there, she drew the pistol and ejected the magazine so she could replace the bullets she’d fired from the extras she’d put in her jeans pockets.
It took her some time to orient and press the bullets into the magazine, since her fingers weren’t as strong as she’d like for the task. While she worked on it, she looked around to make sure she wasn’t missing a zombie that was close enough to bother them. By the time she got the magazine topped off, the dog had moved on from the water to the can, which Happy had set down in the middle of the scattered cereal next to the hole. She watched the dog wolfing down the pasta in big gulps, its nose and snout going further and further into the can as it ate.
“Yeah, hungry weren’t you?” Happy said to the dog, still sitting and watching. “Those mean sons of bitches were mean to you, didn’t give you anything. Fuckers. Well don’t you worry, Happy’s here now.”
Sliding the magazine back into the butt of the pistol, Candice chambered a round, checked and rechecked that the safety was on, and put it back in her holster. The area was still quiet; though she did see a few very distant zombies. Off in the fields. They didn’t seem to have noticed her or Happy or the dog though, but she reminded herself to keep an eye on them.
The dog swallowed all the Spaghetti-O’s, licked the can for a minute, licked its nose and chops, drank some more water, then investigated the cereal for just a moment before beginning to crunch on it too. Candice kept an eye on everything around them until the dog finally slowed down and stopped eating.
“How’s that? Better, right?” Happy said. He held his hand out to the dog. It licked it, then moved closer, and Happy began petting and rubbing the dog’s fur. “Yeah, that’s better. All better now, right?” The dog’s tail was wagging as Happy petted it.
“Happy, if those people were leading zombies into the town, what’s that mean?”
“It means those fuckers are crazy.”
“Well, okay, but what if mom and Austin were in the town when the zombies started showing up?”
“Wouldn’t be good.” Happy said, continuing to fuss over and play with the dog.
“Can we look around in the town?” she asked, thinking about Ocala. And Atlanta. When zombies became a problem, mom sought shelter away from them. And it always worked. The zombies left eventually, when they decided — or forgot, or whatever — they couldn’t get at the humans they wanted to eat.
Mom and Austin would have run from zombies, she knew. Maybe they’d gotten trapped somewhere though. If that had happened, then they’d be in the town and waiting for the way out to get clear. That was something she and Happy could maybe help with.
&nb
sp; “Could we do the same as the people were?”
“What?” Happy asked, his head lifting suddenly. He fixed her with a sharp look. “What?”
“Lead the zombies out?” she said, not sure why he seemed so tense all of a sudden. “But with the car?”
“Candy, we go into a town with that many zombies in it in something like this little foreign piece of shit, we’re not coming out.” Happy said, jerking his head at the Toyota.
“Right, it’s like the SUV we lost.” Candice realized. Mom had gotten a lot more careful after that, and not just because Austin had split off to make sure zombies weren’t around to bother the two of them while they got away from Ocala. The SUV had been tough, zombies couldn’t get at anyone inside. Regular cars, they could. Mom had been much more cautious than she’d already been once they’d lost the SUV. “So we need a better car?”
“A bigger one.” Happy said. He was back to playing with the dog. “Much bigger.”
“What about a truck?” she said, thinking. An idea was starting to form.
“Hmm, maybe, but most of’em aren’t big enough.”
“What about one of those moving trucks we saw back in Clewiston?”
Happy glanced up at her again, and a smile started to spread across his face. “A moving truck. Yeah, especially one of them big ones. Twenty footer would be nice, if we can get it running.”
“They’ve all just been sitting there, right?”
“Yeah, but the gas is all bad by now. I used to have a hell of a time explaining that to some of the fucking tourists who’d bring their fucking boats over here, after lettin’em sit all winter and shit. Sometimes they had to put it into the shop. It’d fuck up the engine to have gas in it going bad for so long.”
“But we’ve got gas.” Candice said.
“Candy, let me tell you. Siphoning gas out of a car is kind of a fucking pain in the ass.” Happy said.
“No, in the trunk.” Candice insisted.
“What?” he said, blinking up at her.
