by Logan Jacobs
I saw that the pack was still gathered around the door, though a few had moved over to investigate the display window as well. I leaned out as far as I could and fired indiscriminately into the seething red mass. Several dinos dropped immediately, and it took the rest a moment to realize that there was a new sound and something was attacking them from above.
The buzzing changed pitch and several of the dinos at the back of the pack started to sprint away. Others turned to follow, but I was able to pick them off with the rifle before they made it too far away. The stego’s body was soon joined by a pile of small raptors, though a good number of them had managed to escape. I took a few more shots at the last stragglers when I heard the glass finally give way in the door downstairs.
“Shit!” I cursed as I jumped back from the window and ran back toward the stairs.
I had hoped that the whole pack had run away when I started to open fire, but apparently, at least one of the dinos had decided to seek shelter inside. As I ran down the stairs, I could hear Hae-won yell something, and then the boom of the .308.
“Nailed it!” Becka cried triumphantly as I hit the ground floor and ran into the pharmacy.
“Two more!” Hae-won warned.
The automatic rifle came to life and fired off four quick shots. It was quiet then as I stepped toward the counter where my two ladies still stood, loud and proud in their armor with their guns raised and ready to fire. I peered over the counter and spotted three more dino bodies sprawled out across the linoleum floor.
“Are there any more?” Becka asked.
“I’ll check,” I said as I jumped over the half-door again.
I inched up to the door and past the body of one of the dinos that looked like it had been crushed underfoot by its fellow raptors. Still, I wasn’t entirely sure that it was dead, so I fired one quick shot into the head, then slipped past it and leaned outside what was left of the door. There were plenty of red dino bodies scattered around, but the survivors had all run away.
“They’re gone,” I called out as I stepped away from the door. “Let’s get what we need and leave before they come back.”
I heard a couple of soft thuds, and when I looked back, I saw that the girls had jumped from the counter and were picking through the items on the shelf.
“Amoxicillin,” Becka called. “And flu symptoms packages.”
“Take those,” I said as I headed back toward the stairs. “Any antibiotics are good.”
The girls nodded and started to fill the backpack as I ran back up the steps. I checked the back door on the landing, but it was still locked tight, and I didn’t feel like wasting the time or the ammunition trying to open it. There was no telling how long the red dinos would stay away, and whether they would return with an even larger pack. Best to get away before they returned.
I placed my t-shirt over my nose again and stepped into the front room. I noticed the pharmacy degree on the wall, along with several awards for charitable work, all made out to a Hiram Fenwick.
“Sorry, Mr. Fenwick,” I said as I approached the desk. “But we could use the extra protection now.”
I picked up the handgun and studied it for a moment. It was old, though someone had maintained it down through the years. The stamp on the side indicated it was a Webley Mark 6, and I vaguely recalled that this was the sidearm of choice for British officers in both World Wars. The one I held had probably been in Fenwick’s family since at least the second World War, and might have even been a participant in the first war.
I hated to disturb the corpse, but I hoped that the pharmacist might have more ammunition to go with the gun. I moved the body as carefully as I could toward one side, but since rigor mortis had passed, it flopped to the side and then hung over the arm of the chair. I nudged the chair away from the desk with my foot, then tugged the first drawer open. I found plenty of pens, an old desk calendar, blank order forms, and other items that were all business related. The next drawer was nothing but pamphlets from various pharmaceutical companies touting their latest products. In the third drawer, though, I found a nearly full box of ammo beneath a box of old black and white photos, and a small kit for cleaning the revolver.
“Thank you, Hiram Fenwick,” I whispered as I grabbed the ammo and the kit.
I tucked the handgun into the waistband of my jeans and pulled the t-shirt over it. I tried to tuck the ammo into one of the pockets, but it was awkward at best, so I swung the rifle onto my shoulder, nodded to the body, and stepped back onto the landing. I trotted back downstairs and found that the girls were still going over the rows of drugs. They were near the end, though, and I noticed that the backpack was nearly full.
“We’ve grabbed everything that looked useful,” Becka said when she saw me. “We had to check the internet to see what some of this stuff does, and we decided to leave the heart medications and such.”
“Did you remember to grab what we came for?” I asked as I opened the half door and moved toward the front window. It was scratched but still in one piece, and I scanned the road for any signs of the dinosaurs.
“Ohhh, yessss,” Becka replied in a syrupy voice.
Hae-won giggled, then hefted the backpack.
“We have plenty of medicine for us and if we need to trade,” the Korean announced. “This was a good trip, after all.”
“Well, we couldn’t find any Levonelle or ellaOne or any other morning after pill, but--”
“It is fine,” Hae-won interrupted Becka. “I found my brand of birth control, and some for Becka to start using if she wants.”
“Okay, good,” I said.
“Why’d you go back upstairs?” Becka asked as she and Hae-won moved toward me.
“I found the pharmacist,” I said as I pulled the gun from my waistband. “I guess he decided he didn’t want to live in a world filled with dinosaurs.”
“Oh, fuck,” Beck murmured as she and Hae-won took in the revolver.
“Here,” I said as I held up the box of ammo and the kit. “We can put them in the backpack for now.”
Hae-won nodded and opened the backpack so I could add the gun, the kit, and the ammo. The Korean studied the gun for a moment before zipping the pack closed.
“It looks like an old gun,” Hae-won noted.
“It’s a Webley Mark 6,” I replied. “British soldiers carried it during both world wars. Someone in Mr. Fenwick’s family was probably a soldier during either one or both of the wars.”
“That makes sense,” Becka said. “The only people who usually have guns are retired military who keep their revolvers or such. And farmers. Farmers are allowed to have rifles to shoot pests.”
“Will it still work?” Hae-won asked.
I glanced toward the ceiling and nodded.
“As long as we keep it clean, it should be fine,” I replied.
“So, are we ready to head back to campus?” Becka asked as she glanced toward the ceiling as well. “I’m starting to get a little spooked, knowing the owner’s just upstairs.”
“He won’t be coming down to yell at us for breaking in,” I assured her.
“Says you,” Becka replied. “How do you know they won’t send zombies next?”
“Oh, I hate zombies,” Hae-won said with a shudder.
“There aren’t any zombies,” I said as I took another look at the street.
It still looked quiet but now that Becka had mentioned zombies, I found myself staring at the stego as well as the batch I’d just shot and wondering if I’d just seen a limb twitch. I shook my head and told myself that there was no such thing as zombie dinosaurs, then waved the girls to the door.
We stepped around the flattened dino, picked our way past the mass of blood splattered bodies, and tiptoed past the massive stegosaurus. Tim was where we had left him, and after scanning the streets again, I unlocked the doors and let the girls climb in first before I tucked the rifle and claimed the driver’s seat for myself.
The engine growled as we made a tight turn, and we n
arrowly missed driving over the sharp spikes on the end of the stego’s tail. When we were finally free of the scene, I picked up the pace while Becka called out directions. We found ourselves on an unfamiliar street, which Becka insisted would keep us clear of the blocked road and bring us out close to the west gate of the campus.
“Stop!” Hae-won shouted.
I slammed on the brakes, and Timothy stuttered to a halt. Becka’s phone flew from her hands and was lost somewhere on the floor.
“Shit!” Becka muttered as she ducked down to find her phone.
“What?” I demanded. “Do you see a dinosaur?”
“No, not a dinosaur,” Hae-won replied as she started to open the door.
“Wait!” I said. “Where the hell are you going?”
“Back there,” Hae-won said as she pointed behind us. “That alley we just passed.”
I started to back up until we were in front of the alley. It was dark and narrow, with a long line of fire escapes along both sides. Garbage cans littered the ground and a dumpster sat at the far end. But what had caught Hae-won’s eye was about halfway along, almost impossible to see in the darkness, except for the bright blue and yellow checkerboard pattern that everyone in England knew so well.
Police motorcycles.
Hae-won grinned and dropped from the carrier before I could say anything else. Becka, who had finally found her phone, sat up and looked down the alley.
“Oh, bugger,” the Brit sighed. “Are we adopting motorbikes, then?”
Chapter 18
“Looks like.” I checked the street again before I opened my own door and climbed outside.
Becka sighed but slid across the seat and followed me out of the carrier. Hae-won was already investigating the two police motorcycles, and then I heard her squeal. For a moment, I thought she had encountered another dino and brought the rifle up to take a shot at whatever lizard was about to appear, but the Korean girl turned around with a look of excitement on her face and motioned for us to join her.
“Oy, what do we want motorbikes for?” Becka sighed as we started down the dark alley.
“Hae-won thought they might be more useful if we leave the city,” I explained. “And I might have said it was a good idea.”
“There are many motorbikes back here,” Hae-won said when we caught up with her.
The Korean was right. It looked like someone had raided the local motorcycle shop, though that didn’t explain the two police bikes. The rest of the bikes were lined up behind the garbage cans, carefully positioned so that someone passing by wouldn’t notice them if they happened to glance down the alley. I wondered why they hadn’t done the same for the police bikes, then realized the bulkier size and bright colors would be hard to conceal even in the dreary alley where we were.
“Maybe we should leave,” Becka suggested. “In case whoever set all these bikes here comes back soon. Or decides they don’t like us poking around.”
The Brit was right, and I scanned the surrounding windows and fire escapes for anyone who looked like they were ready to defend their ownership claim over the motorcycles.
“Maybe they will trade?” Hae-won suggested as she looked over the options. “Perhaps they will give us three bikes for Tim?”
“We’re not trading Tim!” Becka snapped, apparently appalled at the idea.
“But we cannot take him if we leave the city,” Hae-won replied. “The roads are all blocked with traffic. It will be faster and easier on a motorbike. Don’t you want to go north?”
“I do, but…” Becka stammered. “How will we carry everything we’ve collected?”
“We will wear our backpacks,” Hae-won replied. “And see, on the police bikes? They have places to store equipment. We will be able to carry everything we need.”
I was only half-listening to the discussion as I moved slowly along the alley with my rifle raised. I still hadn’t spotted anyone at a window, but the darkness made it hard to be sure. I wondered if the owner had gone hunting for supplies as well, and counted on the Brits’ natural dislike for disobeying the rules to keep people away from the police bikes. Most people, on seeing the familiar checkerboard pattern, would have assumed that the cops must be nearby and kept going, even in this upside-down world. But if that were true, that person or persons could be back at any moment.
“We should get out of here,” I announced. “Someone’s bound to come check on the bikes. Or they could come back from wherever they’ve been.”
“They have many bikes,” Hae-won replied. “If we take three, they will still have plenty.”
“I’m not sure I like this idea,” Becka said. “Riding bikes around the countryside. I’d feel safer in Tim.”
“Tim is too big, uses too much gas, and there are too many cars blocking the roads out of the city,” Hae-won pointed out. “These are faster and more maneuverable, and we can take them places where Tim cannot go.”
“How will we get them back?” Becka asked.
“We can ride them,” Hae-won replied.
“But Tim…” Becka started to protest.
“Ah,” I cut in, “I’d rather not learn to ride a motorcycle at this exact moment.”
Both girls looked toward me, but I still couldn’t see their faces well enough to see their expressions.
“Oh, right,” Hae-won mused. “I think we can fit one police bike and one of these others in the back of Tim. I will ride the other police bike back to campus.”
“Then pick another bike and let’s get out of here,” I said.
“I’m still unsure,” Becka reiterated, but Hae-won was already moving along the line of bikes.
“This one!” Hae-won said with a note of triumph. “A Bonneville!”
“Isn’t that a Pontiac?” I asked in confusion.
“It is a motorbike as well,” Hae-won replied as she started to push one of motorbikes out of the line. “By Triumph. It is beautiful. Classic styling. They are very popular in Asia.”
“So let’s get two into the carrier,” I said as I glanced at the bike. It was red and black and really did have a modern classic look that reminded me of a James Dean movie. “And you can follow us on the third. Becka, open the back door, and I’ll grab one of the police bikes.”
Becka stood still for a moment, then moved slowly toward the back of the carrier. I was rather amazed at how attached she had become to Tim, but I felt Hae-won was right. We needed something lighter and faster to make it to the north, and Tim was just too easy to see and too difficult to hide. We still hadn’t solved the fuel issue, either, but at least we could make it further on a tank of gas with the bikes than with Tim.
Hae-won was already rolling the Bonneville toward the carrier, and after fussing with the kickstand, I finally managed to set one of the police bikes on its wheels and roll it toward the carrier as well.
“How do we get them inside?” Becka asked.
I tried lifting one of the police bikes, then shook my head.
“They’re too heavy to lift into the back, even with the three of us,” I said. “We need something we can use as a ramp.”
The three of us glanced around, and then Hae-won pointed toward one of the storefronts. Someone had nailed a pair of four by four pieces of plywood over the window, much like we had done at the gallery.
“Right, but we still have to pry it off,” Becka pointed out.
“I’ll bet Tim has something we can use,” Hae-won replied.
I climbed inside the back of the armored carrier and poked through the tools we hadn’t looked at since we’d adopted Tim. It was mostly military equipment for repairing the carrier and other bits and bobs I had no clue about, but I found something that looked very much like a crowbar near the bottom.
“Here,” I said as I climbed down. “Let’s get one of those boards down, and then we can load the bikes.”
We darted across the road and stopped in front of the window with the boards. It was a smaller store, barely wide enough for the door and the window,
but the owner must have been around recently because the boards looked brand new. I hated to destroy their hard work, but if we wanted the bikes, we had to move fast before the owner returned. I started to pry at the plywood, and as I pulled nails from the wall, the girls helped by tugging at the corner.
Finally, the bottom board fell onto the sidewalk and Hae-won carried it back to the truck. It was a steep ramp, but it would work well enough to get the bikes into the back. I hopped inside, then waited for the girls to push the first bike up the ramp.
Hae-won selected the Triumph first, and with one of the girls on either side, they pushed the bike up the ramp until I could grab it by the front and pull it the rest of the way inside.
“This really is a great looking motorcycle,” I said as I studied Hae-won’s new ride. The dark red color on the front cover highlighted by the glossy black finish on the rest of the bike made it look fast and mean, and I couldn’t wait to see my exotic girlfriend straddle it.
While the girls went to retrieve the other police bike, I lowered the Bonneville’s kickstand, then used the seatbelts to try to rig something that would keep the bike in place in case we had to do some fancy driving on the way home. It looked a bit ridiculous when I was done, but I felt confident that the bike wouldn’t move that much unless we got knocked over.
“Okay, this one is heavier,” Hae-won said. “But I think the ramp will hold at least until we get it inside.”
The blue and yellow checked bike was heavier, and the plywood sagged a bit as the girls pushed it forward, but the wood held, and we soon had it in the back of the carrier with the sleeker Bonneville. It looked a good deal bigger than the Bonneville, though I suspected that was simply because of all the extras, like the storage compartments, the windshield, the blue police lights, and the rather impressive communications array.
“Maybe we can use the radios on these to talk to someone,” I noted as I moved the bike into position. “Or at least to each other.”
