Just my luck, thought Floyd. I finally find someone who’s not a walking corpse, and she’s some kinda psychobitch from hell. Still, she was pretty damn smart and resourceful. Sure, she was incredibly hot to look at, but her attitude killed any potential lust there might have been. Meanwhile, her brain seemed to be working overtime. As much as he tried to resist it, Floyd found himself respecting her more and more.
“So is it just you then?” he asked. “You all on your own?”
“I told you, Mister...”
“Yeah, yeah! I know! Fish bait! Don’t flatter yourself, honey. You ain’t my type.”
Now Mikki was insulted, and she showed it. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Well, I like a spirited woman, but I ain’t exactly turned on by one who threatens to cut my balls off!”
Mikki looked stunned for a bit, then burst out laughing. “OK, fair enough. Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Mikki.” She held out her hand, introducing herself again in a more amicable fashion.
“Nice to meet you Mikki. I’m Floyd.” He shook her hand politely, if a bit warily. He wasn’t sure if he’d get all of his fingers back.
“There! Now we’re all friendly like.”
She threw away the finished lollipop stick and lit up a cigarette. She offered one to Floyd, but he waved it away.
“I don’t smoke.”
“Well, I do!” she said, taking a long drag and holding it in before slowly blowing out a long stream of smoke. “So what are you supposed to be, some kinda Knight in Plastic Armor?”
“Something like that,” Floyd replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “I’d rather look goofy wearing a ton of plastic than get bitten by one of those brain-eaters.”
“Zombies don’t really eat brains, ya know. That’s a myth.”
“Of course I know! I call ‘em brain-eaters after all those old monster movies. You know? Where they wander around going, ‘Braaaaaiiiiins!’”
“Yeah, them movies never made a lick o’ sense. I mean, why would you need to eat if you was dead? And what happens after? Can you imagine a bunch of zombies takin’ a poop? Now there’s a thought for ya! No, they loves to bite to spread the infection, but they don’t eat nothin’.”
“How do you know so much about zombies anyway?”
“This.” Mikki tossed a weather-beaten book at Floyd. He caught it in midair and looked at the title. The Zombie Apocalypse Survival Handbook: How to Live with the Undead.
“You’re kidding, right?” Floyd asked.
“Hey, that’s my bible!” Mikki snarled, snatching it back. “Kept me alive all these years.”
“What about your family? What happened to your parents?”
“Dead,” she answered, coldly.
“Oh, sorry. I should have guessed that.”
“Oh, stuff yer pity! Momma died givin’ birth to me, and I killed my bastard old man when he tried puttin’ his hands on me when I was 12. Stuck him like a pig, the drunken asshole. He was always callin’ me a whore, tellin’ me I wasn’t no good. Then one day he grabs me from behind and tries pullin’ my clothes off. I grabbed a steak knife and turned him into a prime cut of beef. Right in the tenderloin. Haha!”
Well, that explained a lot! Floyd thought, as Mikki continued.
“I ran, hitchin’ rides wherever I could. Found work in diners or gas stations along the way. Of course, the cops found my pa’s body and started right after me. Sooner or later my face would turn up on the news, or some cop would show up looking for me, and I was off and runnin’ again.
“Didn’t help that a few other guys tried to make me pay for a ride their way. I didn’t even kill none o’ them, but by God, I left my mark on ‘em. Cops called me the ‘Psycho Teen Hitchhiker.’ How do ya like that? These perverts try havin’ their way with a defenseless girl on the interstate and all of a sudden I’m the psycho! Then these zombie creepers start appearin’ outta nowhere and everyone else ends up dead—or worse. Crazy-ass world.” Mikki took another drag on her cigarette as she finished her story.
Yup. Crazy-ass world, indeed. Explains a LOT, Floyd thought again. He couldn’t really blame her, either. Although “defenseless” was NOT a word Floyd would ever use to describe her!
Chapter Five
Mikki sat on the couch watching Floyd squirm in his chair. She had to laugh inside. No, she had nothing to worry about with this one. Besides, he was kind of cute, in an outdoorsy, redneck sort of way. And he knew how to handle his weaponry. In this day and age, that was a big plus in a man.
Of course, he was still more than twice her age. He had to be in his forties. He was about six foot tall and fairly skinny, but built solid and strong like a pack mule to carry all that crap on him. And it was good crap, too. He clearly had modified the shotgun and put that strappy bandolier thing together himself. He was a good shot and was nobody to mess with, yet he hadn’t tried anything funny with her. Not yet, anyway.
“So how about you?” It was Mikki’s turn to ask some questions. “What brings you out this way? Leave a wife and 10 babies back East somewhere?”
“No. What brought me out here is my truck. Parked it just outside of town. Turned all the lights off so the brain-eaters will leave it alone. No wife, no kids. Was an auto mechanic back in Texas ‘til the whole town went zombie on me. Haven’t seen anyone alive for over a year now. How about you?”
“Nope, me neither. Had one fellah I wandered around a bit with for a couple months. Older fellah, like you, but he wasn’t too smart. He got sloppy and got bit, so I had to put him down. Made it through the woods, sleepin’ in the daytime and killin’ anything in my way at night until I stumbled on this place about a week ago. It ain’t on any map.”
“I know. I woulda blown right by this place, but I took a look through my binoculars to check it out and I saw your light flashing on and off. Had to check it out. You think there are any more of those creatures out there?”
“No doubt. Found a sign on my way in that said, ‘Welcome to Jackson Town, population 275.’ I’ve taken out about 50 of the local residents so far, including tonight, so I figure there’s about 225 more wandering the town and the woods somewhere. Assuming they ever updated that sign. I figure this was a speed-trap town. Found a zombie cop in a police cruiser near the interstate. I blew his brains out with a pistol and took his shotgun.”
“So why didn’t you wait until morning to go ‘shopping,’ when it’s reasonably safer?”
“Had to test out the new addition to my shotgun. Strobe lights don’t spook the creepers in bright daylight, ya know. Besides, it ain’t much safer in the daytime. Whoever lived here is still in these buildings. And you gotta admit, it was damn fun tonight!”
The look on Floyd’s face made her laugh out loud. “Oh, come on! You cain’t tell me you don’t love it, blowin’ zombie brains all over creation.”
“No! I don’t love it. I hate it. It scares the living crap out of me! I do what I gotta do to stay alive, but I’m scared to death that any moment one of those creepers is gonna bite me and then it’s game over.”
For once, Mikki turned deadly serious. She even looked...a little scared. “I know. I try not to think about that. Promise me something, will ya, Floyd?”
Floyd wasn’t sure he should answer, but he hesitantly replied, “What’s that, Mikki?”
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, “If I ever get bit...promise you’ll kill me, Floyd?”
“On one condition, Mikki.”
“What’s that, Floyd?”
“You do the same for me.”
Chapter Six
Floyd opened his eyes to see a faint crack of light streaming in from between the heavy storm cellar doors above. He had slept on a surprisingly comfortable old couch. Mikki was still sleeping in a small bed loaded with pillows, blankets, and a large pile of stuffed animals. Her favorite was clearly a plush Hello Kitty doll, to which she had fiercely clung all night. He didn’t dare take a closer look, but he thought certain she sucked her thumb.
Mikki was still snoring softly.
Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket, Floyd took the opportunity to look around the place. On a table by the bed was a huge mirror, plus a wide assortment of makeup. Mikki clearly had a fondness for deep red lipstick and nail polish, while her eye shadow colors spanned the entire spectrum of the rainbow.
She also had a fondness for weaponry and tinkering. Several books on electricity, mechanics, and even medicine were stacked sloppily on a makeshift workbench, along with a hodgepodge of tools, wire, string, screws, and everyone’s favorite: duct tape. Her arsenal included a set of brass knuckles, a variety of knives, a machete, several handguns, and boxes of ammunition. Her shotgun was within arm’s reach of her pillow, leaning against the wall next to her bed.
The room wasn’t too large and there were no dividing walls, but there was one door that led to a toilet. The water was rancid but functioned well enough for its purpose. Water treatment plants had ceased functioning along with the rest of civilization. Floyd was lucky. The water at his recent base camp must have come from an underground well or spring or something because the water was actually drinkable.
One set of stairs led up to the outside cellar doors, while another set at the opposite end of the room led up to a door that presumably opened into the building. The door was heavily barred with wooden planks nailed over it and metal bars propped against it. Given what Mikki had said last night, some of the town’s residents were likely still on the other side of that door. Floyd didn’t blame her for being cautious.
The surprise of the morning was the box of dynamite tucked into one corner, complete with a roll of fuse wire. Mikki must have learned somewhere that you need to turn the sticks every so often to prevent the explosives from degrading, because everything was still in good shape. Floyd wasn’t sure which was more unstable…Mikki or the dynamite. She also had several boxes of firecrackers and a few unopened boxes of glow sticks.
A loud groan came from Mikki’s bed, followed by an even louder yawn. Several bones in her young body creaked and popped as she stretched. “Mornin’ already?” she asked wearily, glancing in Floyd’s direction.
“Yup,” Floyd answered.
“So what’s the plan for today, Sherlock?”
“Same plan as every day. Shoot anything that moves and don’t get bit,” Floyd answered grimly.
“Good plan,” she said, sitting up with a big smile on her face. “Hey! Wanna help me clear out some of these buildings? There’s a hardware store with some great tools we can use, plus some bear traps…huntin’ knives…”
“What, no chainsaw?”
“Oh, come on! You know chainsaws ain’t no good for creepers. Too damn loud. Bring every one of those freaks down on us.”
“Yeah, I guess. Well, I gotta be heading out. Left my truck at the top of the hill. Best to make my way back to it while the sun is out.”
“And go where? There ain’t nothin’ out there.”
“I heard a radio signal a while back about a safe area in California. I’m making my way there now. Gotta get back on the road. Thanks for the couch—”
“Take me with you!” Mikki cried, jumping up from the bed and bounding over to Floyd.
“What?” he stammered, “Sorry, I can’t. I got no room in the truck. I barely make it when it’s just me.”
“Oh, come on! You stopped off here for a reason. Why’d you come lookin’ if you didn’t want to find no one?”
If things had been different, Floyd would have jumped at the chance to have such a hot chick tag along with him, but he knew this chick was nothing but trouble. Psychologically unstable with a real bad attitude—not a good combination. The last thing he needed was some tenuous teenager who loved combat knives and corpses. OK, the last thing he needed was to be bit by some brain-eater. The second-to-the-last-thing he needed was some tenuous teenager who loved combat knives and corpses.
He wanted to get as far away as possible from this chick as soon as possible. He was frankly afraid of her, and he was too afraid to tell her he was afraid of her. Besides, a human being needs to drink about a gallon of water a day. Another person meant double the required water, which meant double the weight to carry. Not to mention additional food, etc. No. It just wasn’t worth it, but he couldn’t tell her that. He stumbled and fumbled for an answer.
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t even know if this place is there. It’s too dangerous to bring a girl along.”
“Oh, but it’s not too dangerous to leave a defenseless girl alone in a town fulla creepers?”
“You’re hardly what I call defenseless. Besides, you don’t want to miss all the fun around here, remember?”
“But you just got here! Cain’t you stay just a day or two?”
“No, I really gotta go.”
Floyd was torn. He didn’t want this whack-job of a girl tagging along, even if she was pretty good with a shotgun. On the other hand, he couldn’t really leave her alone in a town full of zombies.
“Wait a minute! I have an idea,” he said, heading over to a stack of papers near the workbench. He pulled out a large paper. “You drew this?”
“Sure did.”
“Is it accurate?”
“I ain’t the greatest artist but I draw a mean map. Yeah, it’s pretty accurate.”
“So all these doors on here are in the right place? And these walls?”
Mikki looked over Floyd’s shoulder at the map and nodded. He was clearly interested in the old city hall. It was a fairly big building for such a tiny town, no doubt to host the parade of unlucky drivers caught trying to speed by the place in the past. It had a front reception area, a clerk’s window and rather large courtroom on the upper floor.
“Where’s the roof access?” he asked.
“Don’t know if there is one,” she answered.
“Oh, there is one. It’s got a dome. There’s always roof access if there’s a dome. Someone has to get up there to get to the flagpole.”
“OK, so what?”
“So, maybe we can find a way to get rid of these brain-eaters. All of ‘em. Then you’ll have the town all to yourself.”
Mikki smiled. “What you got in mind?”
Chapter Seven
There were no signs of danger as Floyd and Mikki headed up the hill to the truck. The road was pretty wide with no place to hide. Other than the billboard with the dormant cop car behind it. Speeders had nothing to worry about from that cop anymore. Of course, any number of undead freakazoids could be wandering the woods, but the leaves and branches were dry, so any approach would be heralded with plenty of warning. So far, there was only silence.
Floyd popped up the bed lid of his truck and pulled out a five-gallon gasoline can he had recently filled at home base. Then he pulled a couple of handguns (both equipped with silencers) and several spare high-capacity ammo clips off the dashboard and passed them to Mikki. They headed back down into the town, moving as slowly and quietly as possible.
Floyd put the gasoline can on top of the box of dynamite they had stashed outside the door to city hall. It would be safe to leave everything there for now. Zombies wouldn’t know what to do with the stuff, anyway. Being no longer human, they had lost the ability to reason.
The undead weren’t very smart and usually weren’t very fast, but they were extremely quiet, could hide in the tightest spaces making no sound, and were quite dangerous in numbers. The more stimulated they were by light, sound, or the smell of living flesh, the faster and more dangerous they became. When they gathered in a group or sensed danger, they called to each other in a low, resonant, creepy moan that traveled quite a distance. Floyd planned to use all of this knowledge against them.
Of course, he could have just snuck out, jumped in his truck and hit the road. Or, he could have rearranged his truck and taken Mikki with him. Mikki, however, was not his responsibility and he didn’t want her to become his problem. She was unstable and unpredictable. If the apocalypse hadn’t happened, she’d be sitting in a
jail somewhere awaiting execution for murder.
Still, she was really just a kid lost in a world where a hideous death lurked around every corner. If he left her here alone, he’d always wonder what had happened to her, and he’d always blame himself. Besides, if he did sneak out, she might find a way to follow him, hunt him down and kill him. He had to leave her as safe as possible. Then whatever happened to her would be up to fate.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Ready as ever,” she replied resolutely, donning her helmet.
Floyd put on his mask and made some adjustments. He had left Ol’ Faithful in the truck, as he would use only silenced weapons for this operation. He didn’t really trust Mikki, but she offered two more hands for two more pistols, which meant additional firepower. If they ran into a situation where that wasn’t enough, Ol’ Faithful would have been useless anyway. Besides, the two didn’t want to wake up the whole town (yet).
Their objective was the city hall, an overly pretentious, two story-building. Once the model of overly effusive civic pride, the former glory of its exterior had been long ago erased by time and neglect. Neither Floyd nor Mikki knew how many creepers might be in there. If the town had been hit over the weekend, the building would be completely empty. If the outbreak had occurred on a weekday, it was anyone’s guess as to how many people might have been there at the time to appear in court, pay traffic fines, apply for a marriage license, or whatever.
Light streamed in through the front windows, so at least the lobby would be clear. Floyd tapped Mikki on the shoulder and pointed to a smashed light fixture. Both tensed up and heightened their awareness as they moved to the large double doors guarding the building’s interior. Smashed lights meant they would not be alone.
The plan was to head straight to the dome on the roof and find a safe way down the outside wall, so they shouldn’t have to kill everything on the ground floor. The two had circled the building and found a fire escape, but it stopped at about 10 feet above the ground, so the trip up would have to be made from the inside. There was a stairwell on the east side, but they had to be careful. If the doors locked automatically, they could be trapped inside forever.
Floyd & Mikki (Book 1): Zombie Hunters (Love Should Be Explosive!) Page 3
