“If we’re going to die I think I have a right to know,” Kourtney said.
“We’re not going to die.”
She studied him in the pale moon light creeping through the window. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who loses interest in a girl as soon as he sleeps with her.”
Hooper’s gaze inadvertently dropped to the perky breasts hiding beneath her Doc’s Bar and Grill tank top. He cleared his throat and turned back to Alex. “I just…didn’t want to screw things up.”
She cocked her head and stared thoughtfully at him, her long brown ponytail dangling over her toned shoulder.
He lowered his voice. “Listen, I like you guys…you, Alex and Doc. And I like coming in here…”
“But?”
He took a drink of water and sat up straighter. “I didn’t want this place to become one of those places you have to scratch off the list because of something that had gone south in the past.”
Her jaw hanged in the air. “So…you never thought about it?”
Reluctantly, he met her eyes again. A short laugh escaped his lips. “Of course I have. You’re a beautiful woman with a great kid, but…” He trailed off with a grin sliding across his face. “But you know I have a boat out here at the lake and there aren’t many holes in the wall like this one.”
“It’s the only hole in the wall out here, unless you count the burger stand at the marina.”
“And I don’t want to screw that up either. I like their burgers.”
She chuckled and shook her head, growing silent. The rain beat against the roof, almost drowning out the rolling death moans outside. “What makes you so sure you would have screwed anything up?”
“Precedent.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Ryan, Becky was six years ago. You have to stop being afraid to live your life again. She moved on and you need to do the same.”
“I’m not afraid.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Then why do you keep taking those chunky skanks home from the bars in town?”
His jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“Uh-huh, I hear the stories.”
“I’m sorry but those girls are not chunky,” he gasped. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information from.”
She slapped his bicep and pulled her knees up to her chest and grew silent again. Hooper followed her gaze to where Alex was sleeping. “I’m so worried about him,” she whispered. “This is too much for a child.”
“Hey listen,” he said, wrapping an arm around her. “I’m not going to let anything happen to him.”
She turned to him with melting eyes.
“Or you.”
Kourtney dropped her head between her knees and let it hang. “If anything ever happened to…”
“Nothing is going to happen,” he said firmly, squeezing her against him tighter.
She looked up and met his resolute stare. Lightning throbbed inside the bar, lighting up his lean face. “You promise?” she whispered.
He was about to nod and decided to lean in and softly kiss her instead. Their warm lips gently mingled the taste of Coca-Cola and sour cream and onion potato chips. Slowly, they pulled apart and stared at each other through the dim glow, the moaning corpses outside drifting a million miles away. Hooper brushed a long strand of dark hair from her face, returning her warm beam. “Ms. Bowen, would you like to go out to dinner with me this weekend?”
She stifled a giggle with her hand. “Why, I would love to, Mr. Hooper.” She smiled bashfully. “We may be dead, but we’ll make it work.”
He grinned, showing off years of regular dentist visits that penetrated the gloom. “I was thinking we could try out this new little Italian joint over by…”
Kourtney leaned in and planted a firm kiss on his lips, his words dying in the air. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His arms hovered in the air for a moment and then stingily returned her passionate embrace. They kissed fervently, their heads tipping back and forth as their hands tenderly probed each other in absolute silence. A jagged bolt of lightning sliced through the darkness and quickly plunged them back into the shadows.
“We used to be like that,” Rachel whispered. “Didn’t we?”
Rory turned to her and smiled without responding. He stared into her dark eyes for a moment longer before turning back to the ceiling and putting his hands behind his head.
A long sigh seeped from her lips. The rain and lightning continued its assault and Rory prayed it would just stop.
“So…how did you manage to sneak your cell phone past Kate anyway?”
He turned back to her shadowy face. “Secret pocket in my backpack.”
Her face wrinkled. “Secret pocket? For what?”
“Secrets,” he said flatly, turning back to the ceiling.
“So that whole everything I see reminds me of Facebook was all a ruse?”
He laughed lightly.
“You should’ve been an actor,” she said, growing silent. “Kate would’ve been so pissed.”
Rory listened to her sneak in a quick sniffle as the rain fell outside. He thought of Kate and Ashley and wondered if it had hurt. He hoped it hadn’t but how could it not? They were eaten, for God’s sake.
“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” she whispered, changing the subject.
Rory jerked his eyes to her and was amazed. Their blanket smelled like dirty feet and dead people were walking around outside but somehow she still managed a smile. “I am, too.”
They held each other’s soft gaze for a moment, the rain beating a dull drum against the rooftop above.
“No you’re not,” she whispered, poking him in the ribs.
He chuckled and took a deep breath. “Yeah, this was pretty much the biggest mistake of my life,” he said, turning to see if the old lady in a powder blue dress was still at the window staring blankly at her grisly reflection. Rory’s smile faded. She had been standing there for the past forty-five minutes and he wondered if the ghastly image staring back at her had triggered something deep down inside. Something that even being dead couldn’t completely expunge, like leaving church on Mother’s Day and stepping into the warm May sunshine, on her way to a fancy brunch with her doting husband and two pretty girls flaunting pink dresses with white, lacey trim. Or the crisp fall day her eldest daughter married inside a church with its white steeple poking through clouds of yellow, red and orange splashing the treetops above.
Rory let out a drained breath and turned back to the ceiling. “Well, the second biggest mistake of my life anyway,” he whispered.
She turned to him with a nonplussed look and leaned on an elbow. “What was the first?”
A thunderstruck silence followed that he didn’t bother interrupting with an answer.
She tilted her head. A burst of lightning lit up Woody’s bare feet hanging out a nearby booth. Doc’s white New Balances seemed to glow in the booth on the other side while Mick snored loudly from the next one down, his black boots dangling over the end, toes down and dead still.
Rachel shook her head. Her matted blond hair didn’t move. “That wasn’t your mistake.”
He watched the lightning flash, lighting up the water stains on the ceiling, without responding.
She dropped her gaze and picked at the scratchy blanket. “I should’ve gone with you, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” Her eyes found the .357 Magnum lying next to him. “We wasted so much time,” she said gravely. She blinked, sending a tear tumbling down her ashen cheek. Lightning sputtered again and Rachel swept her gaze to the window, where Powder Blue stood swaying gently on her bare feet. “And who knows how much…”
“Hey,” he said, leaning up and wiping the tear away with his dirty thumb. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault; it was just…bad timing. The job, you, me, everything, and there’s no going back. We need to keep looking ahead.” He took her hand and squeezed.
She stared into his eyes. “Nothing was ever the same after you left.”
“R
achel,” he said, putting a finger to her lips.
She pulled his finger away and held onto it. “There was nothing for me here without you. I tried to prove that wrong, but...” Her watery eyes dropped to the blanket. “I know I didn’t fool my father.”
Rory watched her pick at pieces of lint, his mom flashing through his mind. At one time, Laura had been young and in love with Rachel’s father and he had loved her back. But they had separated over something so stupid that to this day, Laura refused to talk about it. It had been the kind of thing most couples would have resolved in a few hours, which is exactly how long it took Christopher to get drunk with his buddies one hot summer night and impregnate a cocktail waitress with Rachel. After settling with other people, Laura’s and Christopher’s unfulfilled love haunted them to this day and every time Rory’s mom ran into Christopher or Maria at the Miracle Mart, or Dakota Square Mall, or the one Olive Garden in town, she would drink wine that night.
Rachel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly into the stale air. “I just wish we could go back in time and…” She trailed off, struggling to find the right words.
Rory bailed her out by leaning in and kissing her on the lips, sending an explosion of fireworks shooting through his mind the storm couldn’t touch. Reflexively, she pulled back and then pressed forward, rolling on top of Rory and cradling his face with soft hands as their lips danced in the dark. His hand slid under her shirt and worked up her smooth back, unhooking her bra strap with one snap of the fingers. She sighed when his hand cupped her breast and pressed her lips into his even harder.
“Hey,” Woody whispered. “You guys awake?”
Rachel and Rory froze with their lips locked.
“What’s up, Wood?” Rory asked, watching a sly grin creep across Rachel’s face.
“I think Hooper and Kourtney are gettin it on, and I’m not even kidding.”
Rory and Rachel held their breath, fighting the urge to laugh.
Woody snorted. “Man, who does something like that at a time like this?”
Chapter Sixteen
Woody woke up again and rolled over onto his other side, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard wooden bench that didn’t exist. Every few minutes, he would rotate his body to a side that hadn’t gone numb. He cracked his eyelids and yawned, thankful to see the faint light of dawn just beginning to kiss the trees outside. His lengthy yawn quickly died when he noticed a silhouette standing at his feet. His heart fluttered as he tried to blink away the darkness. Lightning flashed, lighting up Rob’s pasty face. He stood there, silently studying Woody with a keen expression gripping his sunken face. His skin sagged, leaving droopy jowls and gaping dark holes where black eyes lurked somewhere deep inside.
Woody scuttled backwards against the wall, his breath catching in his throat. He was about to scream when Rob pounced, scaring it from his lungs. Sharp rows of teeth sunk into Woody’s chest, cutting through the flesh and meeting in a pool of warm blood inside. Woody finally released the scream. Rob yanked his head back, taking a twisted chunk of flesh and t-shirt with him. Woody howled and pushed with everything he had, sending Rob sprawling backwards onto the tiled floor with a soft splash. Rob sprang to his feet, dripping with water and hissing like a pissed off King Cobra.
A gunshot rang out, piercing the night like a sharp dagger. Rachel screamed and Mick rolled off his booth, falling into four inches of water now covering the floor. Doc popped his nappy head up over a booth and stared at Rory with large eyes. Rory kept his gun trained on Rob’s motionless body, his heart hammering inside his chest, and hopped off the pool table.
Hooper sprinted across the bar with sleepy eyes, splashing through the water and smoothly pulling his gun out along the way. He joined Rory in covering Rob, whose head was leaking a black liquid into the floodwater. “What the hell?” Hooper cried, trying to shake the sleep from his eyes. He glanced back at Kourtney on the small stage. The look on her puffy face matched the way his head felt inside. He turned back to the water covering his boots.
“Shit!” Woody wailed, clutching his chest. He pulled his hand away and stared at the blood in absolute horror. “He got me good, Rory!”
Rory turned to him, keeping his gun on Rob. “How bad is it?”
“Fucking bad!” he cried, unable to tear his horrified gaze from his bloody hand.
Rory turned back to Rob, his chest rising and falling faster and faster. “Fuck!”
“Let me see, Woods,” Kourtney said, coming over to him.
“Get back!” he screamed, trying to scoot further into the wall.
Alex poked his head up over his booth, blond hair sticking out in all directions, and stared at them with ample eyes.
“Get me a towel, Dad!” Kourtney yelled.
“Get away from me!” Woody cried, pushing past her and sliding out of the booth.
Rachel leaned forward and grabbed him. “Woody!”
He yanked his arm away and stomped over to the darkened jukebox, applying pressure to his wound with his right hand and grimacing with each step he took.
“I thought he was dead!” Mick said.
Doc followed Mick’s baffled gaze to Rob’s crumpled body. Hooper knelt down and picked up Rob’s arm, squinting at the white bone poking through the mangled wrist. “The water brought him back,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Deep creases lined Mick’s brow. His hands went to his hips.
Hooper dropped Rob’s limp arm and watched a forearm tattoo of a skull slowly disappear beneath the water. “He wiggled free,” Hooper said, getting to his feet and turning to Woody.
“Don’t come anywhere near me!” Woody screamed, backing into the front door. Lightning crackled outside, briefly turning Woody into a black shadow. “I’m infected!”
“Woody!” Rory said, stuffing his big gun in its holster. “Just take it easy!”
Woody held up a bloodstained hand. “Stop!” he said, spitting blood. “Just stop,” he said, lowering his voice. He stared at the frightened eyes staring back at him, his racing heart making his chest bleed even more. He glanced to Powder Blue and the other stiffs slogging across the sloppy lot outside and shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do now but get hurt,” he whispered. “I’m one of them now.”
Kourtney took a step towards him, a white bar towel in her hand. “No-you-are-not!”
“Please!” he shouted, pressing himself against the glass door. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the snot flowing from his nose. “What’re you going to do? Save me with a goddamn bar towel?” He laughed and spit more blood into the rising water. “I don’t want to hurt you!” His eyes bounced from person to person. Lightning flashed again and made their glassy eyes sparkle. He swallowed hard and took a labored breath, the color already draining from his tanned face. “You have to kill me.”
Rory’s frown deepened. “Woody, come on, man!”
“Rory, you come on, man! You saw what happened to that diver and Rob. It’s over for me and I refuse to turn into one of those fucking things!” He paused to clear his throat and take a deep breath which he had to work at. “We don’t have much time and if you don’t shoot me…I’m going to hurt you,” he said gravely.
Alex ducked back down behind the booth and quietly pulled the BB gun from its holster.
The group of survivors cast sideways looks at each other while heavy rain pattered against the roof. No one seemed to know what to say or do next. Woody hunched his bony shoulders and began coughing up blood.
Rory spun in the water, squeezing his head with both hands. “Shit!”
Kourtney nonchalantly backed away and ushered Alex from his booth.
“Woody, for Christ’s sake, we can’t shoot you,” Doc groaned, waving a hand through the air. “No way in hell!”
“You have to!”
“Give me a gun and I’ll do it!”
Rory glared at Mick. “Nobody’s shooting anyone! We’ll figure something out.”
“There’s no
thing to figure out!” Woody yelled, spitting blood droplets. “Listen,” he panted, trying to lower his voice and pulse. “There’s no time to figure anything out. I’m screwed and you know it.”
“Maybe it won’t happen,” Hooper said, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. “Maybe you’re immune.”
“Come on, Hoop! This isn’t Contagion and I’m not Matt Damon. I can already feel it happening,” Woody said thickly, his eyes already sinking further into his skull. “And if I shoot myself, I’ll go to Hell…so you have to do it.”
They stared at his solemn expression with their mouths hanging open. Silence swarmed the bar like sinister Dementors infesting the darkness.
Floodwater Zombies Page 18
