“Oh, curiosity got the better of me and I did poke my head out a couple of times. Turned out there was nothing for me out there but death. So I just holed up in here. Then you found that goddam button and popped open the door. I thank God those raiders didn’t find it, or you mighta found two dead bodies in the store.”
“So those men who came through the town, they took everything?” Floyd asked.
A bright glint appeared in Zeke’s eyes. “Oh, no! I never said they took everything. They just took what was out there. What was out there…was nothin’!”
Chapter Fourteen
Zeke put his weapon down on a cot in the middle of the room where he obviously slept and moved over to a chair in front of the security monitors. He sat down and swiveled around to face Floyd and Mikki. “Can I see your shotguns?” he asked.
“Hell no, you cain’t see our shotguns!” Mikki roared.
“Mikki, he’s unarmed,” Floyd said, annoyed.
“So? How do you know he ain’t got this place booby trapped?”
“It ain’t booby trapped or we’d be dead already. He just wants to see your shotgun. Show him your shotgun!”
“OK, there!” She held the shotgun out in front of her with both hands momentarily. “Now you seen it.”
“Damn, I can’t believe you sometimes!”
“You cain’t believe me? You want me to just hand over my shotgun to some stranger? What the hell’s wrong with you Floyd? Seriously?”
Mikki would have continued ranting but Zeke broke out laughing again. He asked, “How long you two been married?”
“We ain’t married!” the pair asserted in unison, shocked that the question would even be asked.
“We barely know each other about a week now,” Floyd explained.
“Well, you fight like an old married couple. That’s a good thing, in a way. You both speak your minds. Don’t care what anyone else thinks. And you obviously trust each other to express your feelings. I like that about you. Makes you real people, in my book.”
Floyd handed Ol’ Faithful to Zeke. Mikki took a bead on Zeke with Lucy, just in case he tried anything funny. Zeke just looked at her and smiled.
“Ah! I thought so,” he said after examining the shotgun from every angle. “Browning Maxus Millennium. I see you added the magazine extender and made a few other modifications. Crude but effective. You like movin’ in close quarters, Floyd?”
“Don’t like it, but it’s necessary sometimes.”
“I’m sorry, what? Gotta talk in my good ear. Can’t hear nothin’ in the right ear and miss half of everything else with the left.” Zeke angled the left side of his head toward Floyd to hear better.
“I said, I gotta go through tight spaces sometimes,” Floyd repeated, a little louder.
“Oh, no doubt. No doubt. As for you, Missy…” Floyd leaned back in the chair as Mikki took a tighter grip on Lucy. “Remington Model 870. Standard police issue, or used to be. Interesting modifications you’ve made there. Those batteries you’ve got taped to the side can’t last you very long, though.”
“Don’t need ‘em to. I only use it in short flashes. Zap a creeper in the eyes when it’s dark and they gets confused, but only for a second or two. Any longer than that and it gets ‘em mad.”
“Zombies smash any lights they find,” Floyd added.
“Ya don’t say now,” Zeke mused. “Well that explains why the whole town went dark soon after they started showing up. I thought it was a problem with the power, but as you can see, power’s fine in here.”
“Yeah, how is that?” Floyd asked.
“Remember I told you we had government-type customers? I designed, maintained and repaired firearms for government security folks. Up on the hill to the north is a small building. Small, but heavily fortified. We were the guinea pigs for some new mini nuclear power plant. ‘Pebble-bed reactor,’ they called it. Supposed to be totally automated. Enough juice to power a small town at a fraction of the cost of a big plant. No pollution and safer too, according to the people there. Unless you cranked up the power to maximum for more than an hour or so.”
“Then what happens?” Floyd asked.
“Don’t know for sure, but it probably wouldn’t be good. But, since the town’s still here after a couple years with no one up there manning the switch, I’d say it’s running on autopilot just fine. We get our water from an underground spring, too. Always fresh.
“So you kids are welcome to stay here with me if you want. I can set up a couple more cots. I can point you to a couple of places around town you might be interested in, too. And of course, when it comes to weaponry, I got the best. I got just one little favor to ask of you.”
“And what’s that?” Floyd asked warily.
“Don’t sit right with me having Mr. Gregory out there on the stone cold floor. He was a good man. Deserves better. Could you take him out by the old church and bury him for me? I’d do it myself, but you know, bum leg and all.”
“You sure that’s all you want, old man?” asked Mikki.
“That’s all I want.”
“Well, I reckon we can do that. Right, Floyd?” For the first time, Mikki sounded civil.
“Sure. Why not? We got quite a bit of daylight left. How far to this church? I got a truck I left on the freeway overpass up there, but the streets are too clogged with smashed cars to use it.”
“Oh it’s not far. About a mile and a half straight up this street on the left. It ain’t very dignified, but I got a little wagon you can use to take the body. You can load it up with anything good you find on the way back. Ain’t no zombies left in this area that I seen after them raiders went through here. At least something good came out of that.”
Chapter Fifteen
It had to be an interesting sight: Floyd in his battle armor and Mikki with her cutoff jeans, short top and football helmet, pulling a bright red kid’s wagon with a dead body on it. Well, half on it…sort of. The body was wrapped in a blanket with the torso in the bed of the wagon, but the legs were hanging off the back and dragging on the ground. Mikki carried a shovel Zeke had given her over her left shoulder and had Lucy propped up on her right shoulder. Floyd pulled the wagon with his left hand and carried Ol’ Faithful in his right, occasionally changing hands as his muscles got tired. Zeke had neglected to mention that the church was close, but up a freaking hill. At least the return trip would be much easier.
Mikki looked in the windows of all the little shops that lined the way. Or rather, the gaping holes where windows used to be. Down one of the wider streets was a building that caught Mikki’s eye. It was a school building surrounded by overgrown grass.
“Hey, Floyd, I gotta make a pit stop.”
“Goddammit, I told you to do go before we left.”
“I didn’t have to go before I left. I gotta go now!”
Actually, she didn’t have to go. She just wanted an excuse to get into the schoolroom to look for books. Science books, chemistry, mechanics—anything. Of course, she knew better than to tell Floyd that. He could argue with her, but not with nature.
“Just leave the wagon there for now,” she continued. School’s only a block away and it ain’t like he’s goin’ anywhere without us.”
Floyd was too tired to argue with her. He knew she was up to something, but frankly, he had been looking for any excuse to ditch the wagon for a while now. It wasn’t yet noon and they were close enough to the church that they could afford to take a quick break. Floyd parked the wagon against a wall on the corner so it wouldn’t roll away and Mikki leaned the shovel against the wagon.
“What the hell is that?” Floyd asked.
“What?”
“What’d you do to your hand grenades?”
“Oh! That’s us,” Mikki answered with a big smile.
She pulled a grenade from her waistband and held it up. She had used nail polish to draw a big red heart outline on it. Inside the heart, she had painted “F+M.”
“With love from Floyd and Mi
kki,” she explained proudly.
Floyd broke out laughing. Then she started laughing with him. Suddenly neither one could stop laughing. It was way funnier than it should have been, but the absurdity of it wouldn’t let them go. Floyd leaned against the wall, laughing and laughing as Mikki nearly doubled over. Every time they stopped for a second, they burst out laughing again.
“With love from Floyd and Mikki,” Floyd repeated through fits of laughter. “Oh, that’s great!”
Eventually, the laughter subsided and Mikki said, “Wow, Floyd, I don’t think I never laughed that hard in my whole life!”
“Me neither. Certainly had nothing good to laugh at for quite a few years. ‘With love from Floyd and Mikki.’ Damn, girl, you are something else.”
“Glad you like it.”
“Like it? I love it! Will you do me a favor?”
“Maybe, whatcha want?”
“Paint mine when we get back to Zeke’s? Hell, let’s paint ‘em all. That’ll be our thing. Like ‘Kilroy was here.’ We can paint our symbol on the walls when we clear a building. Or just to say we were there. Or just for the hell of it.”
“That’s a great idea, Floyd! Sure, we can do that!”
They made it to the schoolhouse pretty quickly. Two big glass double doors led to a long hallway inside lined with lockers. The glass in the doors was all shattered and broken, so they stepped through the frames to enter. The lights in the hallway were still on, however, indicating a lack of zombie infestation, so Floyd and Mikki relaxed a little. A little.
“There’s the girl’s room,” Floyd pointed out.
“What?”
“The girl’s room. The toilet. You said you had to go.”
“Oh, right! Thanks Floyd.”
Mikki gently kicked in the door, with Lucy ready to fire. The lights were on inside here as well. She breathed a sigh of relief, but kicked open each stall and inspected every corner before lowering her shotgun, just in case. Well, I’m here. I might as well use the facilities.
Floyd stood guard outside. He didn’t know what Mikki was really here for, but he was smart enough to know he had been had. Whatever she was doing, he’d learn soon enough.
He was glad to be rid of that damn wagon for a little while—and out of the sun. His plastic armor was effective but it got hot and sweaty after a while. Floyd heard a toilet flush and he knew his break was nearly over.
“Damn!” Mikki complained as she came out. “What did they give these kids for toilet paper? More like sandpaper. Damn!”
“TMI,” Floyd responded. “Let’s go.”
“Hang on, I wanna check something out.” She turned and headed up the hall, opening lockers and inspecting the contents as she went.
“What are you looking for? You need a protractor or something?”
“Haha! Very funny. No, I’m looking for books. Anything I can use. Science books, chemistry. Books can keep ya alive, Floyd!” She continued her quest down the hall.
Floyd looked into the lockers. “Ha! You ain’t gonna find books like that here. Look at the size of these sweaters and jackets. They’re all tiny. This is a grammar school.”
“Oh, shit!” Mikki exclaimed. She had just figured out for herself that this was a grammar school by opening one of the classroom doors. She burst into the room and found she wasn’t alone.
About 20 little heads turned towards her. Roughly a third were seated politely in their desks. The rest were scattered about the room. 20 pairs of dead, filmy eyes stared at her. A couple of seconds later, the students started moving.
“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Mikki cried, as she jumped out of the room and slammed the door. Soon a crowd of tiny dead faces was gathered at the door, trying to push it open to get to her. Fortunately, the concept of a doorknob had long since left their little undead brains.
Floyd understood at once what she Mikki cursing about, looking through the little window in the classroom door. “OK, that has got to be just about the creepiest ass thing I have ever seen in my life,” Floyd said dryly. Then the moaning began.
“Goddam little bastards!” Mikki screamed, as she ran out of the schoolhouse.
Floyd followed her, but instead of running back to the wagon, she ran around the outside of the building to the wall of windows alongside each classroom. They were the kind that opened outward and upward. For some reason, none of the windows on this side were broken, but several were partly open.
“Hey, you little SOBs! Auntie Mikki got a present for you!”
The miniature army headed to the window, stacking up against the wall, just as Mikki had expected. She pulled the pin on a grenade and dropped it in through the open window, shouting, “With love from Floyd and Mikki!” The kids were so crammed together it never hit the floor. It landed on a jumble of shoulders.
Floyd came running around the corner of the building just in time to see what Mikki had done. Yelling, “Oh, Shit!” he turned tail and headed back the way he came as fast as he could.
“Fire in the hole!” Mikki shouted as she ran past him, a huge smile on her face.
BOOM!
Mikki didn’t hesitate. Before Floyd knew it, she was gone again, laughing like a crazy woman. There were three more classrooms. Three more grenades. Three more explosions.
“Are you done now?” Floyd finally asked.
“For now. I’m outta grenades. Luckily there were only four classrooms. Hey, Floyd, can I borrow some of your…”
“No! We only have a limited number of grenades, Mikki. You can’t waste them like that or we won’t have any left!”
“Shit, Floyd, what’s the point in havin’ grenades if we don’t use ‘em?”
“I don’t mind using them, but I want to save them for when we need them most!”
“Well, I needed ‘em most,” she said as she headed back to the building. She looked inside and said, “Eeeeew! OK, you do not want to see this. Zombie kid stir fry.”
She came back to Floyd, who merely said, “With love from Floyd and Mikki.” The two began laughing hysterically again, all the way back to the wagon.
Chapter Sixteen
They made it to the church without any further incidents. It was a little, old-fashioned church on the far side of a tall hill…maybe 150 years old. Probably could seat about 300 people. Whitewashed wood with a steeple topped by an ornate metal cross. There was a small graveyard off to one side. All the gravestones were from the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. There had to be a bigger graveyard somewhere else in the town, but Floyd was in no mood to look for more dead people. A big sign in front said, “Saint Margaret of Antioch Roman Catholic Church.”
Just to be safe, they decided to check out the church first. There were two large wooden doors in front, but a sign said, “Enter using the side entrance.” An arrow pointed to the right, the same side as the graveyard. The side door was locked (a good sign), but Floyd kicked it open and they entered, ready for anything.
After the schoolyard and everything else the two had been through over the past couple of years, the scene was almost surreal. The place was completely silent. Light streamed in through the stained glass windows, filling the place with colored light. Everything was quiet and peaceful, like the outside world had ceased to exist.
A man in black seemed to be kneeling at a low rail around the front of the church. The two approached as silently as possible. They needn’t have worried. After poking the body with their shotguns a couple of times, they realized he was dead. Not undead. Really dead. And his back was covered with dust. A string of rosary beads was in his hands and he wore a white collar. Must have been the priest who ran the place. Clearly, no one had visited in a while.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” Floyd mused out loud.
“And a helluva lotta dust, at that. We gotta bury him, too, Floyd.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Cain’t just leave a holy man like this. He’s gotta be buried. Who else is gonna do it?”
“O
h, come on, Mikki! I already got one grave to dig. Now you want me to dig two?”
“Yeah! It’s the right thing to do, and you know it!”
“So what, are you getting religion now, in your old age?” Floyd joked.
“Maybe. I just don’t want to leave him here like this, OK? Please, Floyd?”
Floyd looked at her, shocked. Mikki had never said ‘please’ for anything before. Except when she begged him to take her with him in his truck, and that was a trick. Floyd saw that she really meant it this time, and he had to admit she was right. To himself, anyway. He would never admit that to her.
“Alright, Mikki. I’ll get the graves dug. We only got one shovel, so you stay here. I’ll call you when I’m done. But you gotta help me get the bodies in the holes, got it?”
“Yes, sir! Mister Man, sir!” she said with a smile and a little salute, again. Only this time, Floyd noticed she was a little less snarky and had a little more of a smile.
Floyd began digging the holes outside while Mikki looked around. She had never even been in a church before. Her momma died early and her dad was no church-going man. By the time she knew what a church was, she was 11 and he was trying to grope her every chance he got. Not that Mikki ever let him. She had bloodied his lip more than once. Then one day, he got stinking drunk and tried a little too hard. It was the last thing he ever did.
Mikki liked the church. It was really pretty. There was a big white marble altar in front, covered with pretty green and gold cloth, and about a quarter inch of dust. Several statues looked serenely down at her from all around the place. One was an angel dressed like a roman warrior stepping on the devil’s neck and sticking a spear into his back. A little sign said, “Saint Michael the Archangel.” Mikki didn’t know where he’d been the last two years, but the world sure coulda used him. She’d been doing his job for him.
Another statue on the side had a plaque that read, “St. Margaret of Antioch, Patron Saint of the Dying.” How appropriate, Mikki thought to herself. Sure been a whole lotta dying goin’ on around this town.
Floyd & Mikki (Book 1): Zombie Hunters (Love Should Be Explosive!) Page 7
