“Cool!” responded Mikki. “Of course, creepers don’t shoot bullets.”
“No, but they do bite. A flock of zombie bats couldn’t bite through this body armor.”
“Ah! You thinking of going back to that truck and getting’ more fun stuff?” Her face lit up.
“Maybe. Still gotta figure out how to get outta there without bringin’ a dozen or so bats back with us.” Floyd looked at the price tag. $1,499 for one jacket. Good thing the economy collapsed. He could never have afforded this before. Now he could take as many as he wanted.
He tried a couple of jackets that weren’t quite right for one reason or another. Then he found a perfect fit. It felt like it was tailor made for him. He had total freedom of movement and he didn’t have to worry about his pieces of plastic paintball armor slipping down the arms of his flannel shirt. It felt really comfortable. The high neck of the jacket was a thick leather strap that wrapped around and snapped at the side.
“Damn, Floyd! You look really sexy in that!”
“Don’t tease me,” Floyd said, only half joking. He looked in a mirror and had to admit the cut was very flattering. He transferred the holy card Mikki had given him earlier, a pen, a small notebook and a couple of other bits of junk from his shirt pockets to the inside pockets of his new jacket.
Mikki, however, was having major problems. None of the jackets would zip up over Mikki’s Ds. “I can’t find nothin’ that fits me,” Mikki pouted. “Nothing fits over my chest. I cain’t get nothin’ zipped up!”
Floyd broke out laughing at her and said, “That’s because you’re looking on the men’s rack. Try the one over there that says ‘Women’s Jackets.’ Damn, girl! I though you women knew how to shop!”
“Sexist pig,” Mikki retorted before sticking her tongue out at him. She held up a blood red jacket in one hand and a beautiful turquoise blue jacket in the other.
“Stick to all black,” Floyd cautioned. “We need to blend into the shadows.”
“I know,” she said sadly. “I was just thinkin’…in better days…”
She left the thought unfinished, then threw the jackets to the floor, a few feet behind her. She scanned the outside world with her eyes and looked back at the dressing rooms, just in case. Still no sign of trouble—yet. She was learning from Floyd to be a little more cautious. OK, a lot more cautious.
Next, she held up a black outfit with red pin striping, and a hot pink one with black pin striping. Gorgeous, but not practical. She nearly wanted to cry as she threw them in the pile with the others. She thought maybe she could keep the pink one, just for fun, but she still couldn’t get it quite zipped up over her chest. Not and be able to breathe, anyways. Finally, she found a black one with dark grey accents. It was stylish and just what she needed.
“Damn, Floyd! You wasn’t kiddin’! This thing fits like a glove. I love it!”
“Find another one…or two,” he suggested, not even looking in her direction. He was too busy looking for another jacket for himself. “We got the wagon. Might as well put it to good use. Don’t wear it home though. Get a shower first. Then we can burn these old clothes, for all I care. Please tell me you got more than one pair of underwear.”
“Of course! Panties is easy to pack. I got about six of ‘em in my bag and a spare bra. Bras is kind of hard to find in my size.”
A dozen crude comments went through his mind, but Floyd decided to keep all of them to himself. Too bad. Several of them were really funny. But none were worth a knife in the gut or a tongue lashing. He was far enough from Mikki and on the other side of a couple of racks, so he dropped his jeans and started trying on pants. The pants were perfect except for one thing: the pockets were really tight. No biggie. He could carry whatever else he needed on his belt and custom bandolier.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, when he finally looked over at Mikki.
“What? Something wrong?” Mikki asked.
“No! Nothing! Never mind! Sorry.”
Mikki was confused, but let it go. She went back to admiring herself in the mirror. Floyd admired her from where he was. Down, boy! That’ll get me nothin’ but trouble. And I got enough trouble.
Still, she was amazingly hot. Like that Mrs. Peel chick from the old TV show, the Avengers. Or like some space warrior in one of those Sci Fi movies. The complex pattern of webbing and Kevlar accentuated every attribute of Mikki’s curvaceous body. Especially her two best attributes.
Floyd moved over to the wall and debated whether to keep his paintball mask or switch to one of the helmets. He finally decided on a helmet. Much better than a bowl stuck on the back of his head, and the high neck of the jacket fit perfectly into the bottom of the helmet for total neck protection. That meant he could lose the dorky neck brace, as well. He also chose a pair of boots that buckled up over the pants and were extra padded on the sole. They felt like walking on air. He could drop from 10 feet to the ground with no problem.
He looked over and saw Mikki trying a pair of ladies’ pirate boots. “Are you sure those are gonna be comfortable enough?” he asked.
“Oh hell yeah! Bottom is made outta some kinda rubber. They gotta flat sole and they feel all bouncy!” To prove her point, she bounced up and down a couple of times, squealing with delight. Parts of her kept bouncing after she stopped. Good parts. Floyd looked away, embarrassed, unable to say anything.
“This was a great idea, Floyd. Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it.”
Chapter Nineteen
“So how’d it go? Zeke asked as they entered, pulling the fully loaded wagon.
He had quickly thrown a blanket over something as soon as the door cracked open. Zeke spun around in the chair at his workbench to face them. His smile said he was up to something. He looked like a parent trying to hide Christmas presents from a nine-year-old.
“Went great! Mr. Gregory is safe where he belongs,” Floyd answered.
“Got a two for one deal,” Mikki added.
Zeke looked confused, so Floyd explained, “Found a priest in the church. Been dead a long time. Real dead—not zombie dead. Buried him, too.”
“We got you a holy card!” said Mikki, handing him one of the Saint Margaret cards from her bra.
Zeke smiled and thanked her. “How ‘bout that other thing?”
“Just like you said,” Floyd answered. “Absolutely perfect. See for yourself.”
Floyd pointed to the pile of clothes on the wagon.
“Good! Good! I figured that was just what you needed. Glad I could help.”
“Hey, what’s that?” Mikki asked, pointing to something on the workbench.
“Oh, that’s my old iPhone Nova. Pretty useless without any cell signal. I used to play Angry Birds on it, but after a while—”
“Can I play?” Mikki interrupted. Floyd had never seen her eyes so big. Mikki knew all about the iPhone Nova, but her dad, of course, would never buy her one. When Apple decided to stop using numbers to identify the iPhone, it released the Nova. At the time, it was the most advanced cellphone available.
“You can have it,” Zeke said. He pulled the charger out of the wall and handed it to her, along with the phone. Mikki pounced on it like a crack addict hungry for a fix.
“Thank you! Thank you!” She kissed him on the forehead and turned on the phone.
“No problem. I went through every level more than a dozen times, sittin’ alone in here. There’s a couple other games there you might like, too.”
“Does that work?” Mikki asked, pointing to a bulky old desktop computer.
“Yes and no. Ain’t been no Internet for more’n a year, but it runs. That was Mr. Gregory’s machine. I used it to surf the Web and keep track of inventory when we was in business. Ain’t touched it for quite a while.”
Mikki sat down in front of the computer dinosaur and turned it on. Zeke and Floyd shot the shit for a bit about what had happened that day and what plans they could make for tomorrow. They were interrupted by a high pitched scream from Mikki
.
“Zeke, I love you!”
They turned to see what had made her so happy. She had found an old copy of the original Doom game on the PC and fired it up.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Floyd asked.
“What? This was my favorite game when I was a kid.”
“That game was over and done before you were even born!” Floyd insisted.
“What can I say? My dad had an old crappy computer. This was on it.”
“Are you seriously telling me that we live in a world of zombies, and you’re gonna play a game blowing away zombies on a video screen?”
“Hey, I can’t get bit by these! There! Take that, you son of a bitch! Haha! Hey, look, Floyd! I’m a Space Marine!”
Floyd and Zeke stared at each other for a moment, then smiled. Whatever made her happy! She might have grown up fast the hard way, but in some ways, Mikki was clearly still a kid at heart. Result of a childhood she never got to enjoy.
“Well, I’m gonna take a shower,” Floyd announced, rummaging through his backpack for a clean T-shirt and underwear. Then he grabbed one of the new outfits he had scavenged, including a nice new pair of thick black socks with extra padding in the soles and no seam across the toes.
“Just a warning,” Zeke advised. “Don’t flush the toilet if one of you is in the shower, unless you want to burn your buddy. Water gets real hot.”
“Good to know. You hear that Mikki?”
“No flush. Got it!” She never took her eyes off the computer screen.
Floyd smiled and headed through the door to the bathroom. The toilet was in the center of the far wall. Big shower on the right (enclosed by semi-translucent glass). Washer and dryer on the left. There were about six lockers on the wall next to the door, none of them padlocked. Floyd opened each one to find an assortment of towels, washcloths, bottles of shower gel, shampoo—even laundry detergent. The place was pretty well stocked. He hung up his new outfit in one of the empty lockers.
This was like a dream come true. Almost like a normal life. After two years of sponge baths with water from any dirty sink he could find, Floyd couldn’t wait to get into the shower. And hot water? Are you kidding me?
He turned the handle and cold water blasted out. Floyd was disappointed at first, but within a minute or two, steam started rising and coated the inside of the shower glass. Floyd threw off his clothes and jumped inside.
It was heaven on earth! Soon, all his concerns melted away. The events of the day. Plans for tomorrow. Questions about the future. All washed down the drain by the blissful hot water.
He washed his hair and body, reveling in the glorious steam. He couldn’t hear or see Mikki as she snuck in, but he knew she was there soon enough when she flushed the toilet.
“What the hell!” he screamed as the water burned him. It wasn’t that bad. More surprising than anything else, but unexpected and unpleasant, all the same. He heard Mikki howling with laughter.
“Goddammit, Mikki! What the hell’s wrong with you?” he yelled.
“I’m sorry, Floyd! Couldn’t help it!”
“Well get outta here! I’m taking a shower, goddammit!”
He heard the door open, then shut, and soon he was once again lost in the steam. Then he got an even bigger surprise, and he wasn’t sure if one was worse than the toilet flush.
Before he knew what was happening, the shower door flew open and he was attacked. He had no way to defend himself. Mikki was completely naked and wrapped herself around him, knocking him back against the shower wall, her tongue plunging deeply into his mouth.
She stopped long enough to breathlessly whisper, “Damn hormones!” Then, she assaulted his mouth with her tongue again.
A million thoughts collided in Floyd’s head. He wasn’t even sure this was real. If this was a dream, it was a helluvalot better than the one where she turned into a zombie. He knew it was real enough, though, when she wrapped her legs around him, threw her arms around his neck, and lifted herself up to ease him inside of her.
Every circuit fried in his brain. He was aroused, terrified, elated and panicked. He hadn’t been touched by a woman in nearly a decade and never before like this! She was like a wild animal. Passionate. Desperate. Hungry. Needy. Ravenous. And it was Mikki, for God’s sake!
Mikki? Oh shit! Finally, Floyd decided that if his dick was going to end up on her belt tomorrow, he might as well get as much use out of it as he could tonight. Or, if this was a dream, he might as well make it a good one before he woke up.
Floyd took control. Decades of hatred for his ex-fiancée evaporated along with the steam. He grabbed Mikki and spun her around, pinning her against the shower wall as he gave her what she longed for. He looked at her face as he drove into her hard. It was an odd, yet elated, mixture of shock, surprise, wonder, awe, and sheer delight. She gripped him tightly, moaning loudly. For a moment, Floyd was worried that Zeke would hear them, which would be incredibly embarrassing. But Floyd remembered that Zeke couldn’t hear shit, so he plowed into her even harder. They finished together with a powerful mutual crescendo that left them both drained.
“Damn, Floyd,” Mikki said eventually, gasping for breath. “Finally! Somethin’ better than killin’ zombies.” She gave him a quick kiss on the mouth and she was gone, shutting the shower door behind her.
Floyd’s mind was reeling. He leaned his back against the tiled shower wall, letting the hot water wash over him. He saw a tiny current of blood in the water, swirling its way down the drain, indicating she really had been a virgin. He could hear Mikki puttering away with something outside the shower. At this moment, he didn’t care what she was doing.
“What the hell just happened?” Floyd muttered aloud to himself.
Chapter Twenty
Floyd put on fresh underwear and suited up in his new gear, leaving the helmet off for now and the jacket unzipped. The pants and boots felt really comfortable. The boots would take too long to pull on in an emergency, so he would sleep with them on. By the time he combed his hair [why the hell not?] and left the bathroom, Mikki was heavily back into playing Doom on the computer, fully dressed in her new gear, as well.
She sat there like nothing had just happened. She didn’t even notice when he entered the room. Part of Floyd was hurt and insulted and part of him was relieved. He couldn’t figure Mikki out, and had no idea how recent events would affect their relationship—if they even had a “relationship.” Part of him was worried that they would never make love again and part of him was terrified that they would.
At least Zeke acknowledged his presence. “Well, I must say you two look a damn site better than when we first met! Thanks again for taking care of Mr. Gregory for me. You two done the right thing. You’re alright by me.”
“Glad to help,” Floyd responded, somewhat distractedly.
For some odd reason, Floyd felt completely out of place. He had lived alone for more than a year and a half, after his brief time with the gang in Amarillo. Now that he was here with two other people, he realized just how much his social skills had atrophied. They had never been terribly strong to begin with.
It was also hard for his brain to accept that he finally had a safe place to stay, with no cupboards or closets for anything to hide in or jump out from. Brain-eaters and rogues had ploughed through this town repeatedly, yet this little oasis had remained safe. There was electricity, clean water, a shower, microwave oven, refrigerator—even a washer and dryer! Yet Floyd couldn’t shake the feeling this would all turn to shit and be taken away from him in a moment, just like everything else in his life.
Then there was the other problem: Mikki. He barely knew her, and now they had been intimate. Part of him wanted to love her and part refused to let her in. What good is love if you only get your heart broken or have to watch the person you love turn into some kinda creepy-ass undead monster? It was much easier before, when the only person Floyd had to worry about was Floyd.
But he knew he could never leave her. For whatever reas
on, God or fate had brought them together. They were so vastly different and yet so much alike. They were a team, and for all the aggravation and arguing, they were turning into a pretty damn good one.
Zeke had set up two more cots with pillows and blankets. After a while, Zeke said good night, laid himself out on one of the cots, and covered himself up with a blanket. He turned off all the ceiling lights in the room, but a night light from the bathroom and the glow of the security monitors lit the room enough to move around without running into anything. The last thing Zeke did before heading to bed was to put a big note on top of the blanket he had used earlier to cover up his secret project. It simply said, “Don’t touch!”
Not long after that, lack of sleep caught up to Mikki. She saved her game, turned off the computer, and made her way to the last empty cot. She looked over and said, “Night Floyd,” with a slight grin. Like the Mona Lisa, Floyd couldn’t even guess at the meaning behind that enigmatic smile, but she went straight to bed. No goodnight kiss tonight, anyway.
Soon Mikki was completely out, while Floyd vainly struggled to capture the elusive butterfly of sleep. He tried counting sheep, but they only gave him the finger. And sheep don’t even have fingers.
Floyd turned and tossed, always on the verge of sleep, but never quite there. His internal body clock was off. He usually slept during the day, when zombies generally didn’t wander, and he stayed awake at night so something couldn’t sneak up on him. Lately, he had been traveling and working during the day and sleeping at night.
Noises in the room kept him from sleeping soundly, as well. Mikki was snoring in her cot. She wasn’t quite as loud as a truck driver, but then, that depended on the truck driver. At other times, they were a girly kind of snores that were actually kind of cute and hellafunny.
But there was something else. It wasn’t Zeke, who kept snorting and mumbling in his sleep. Floyd kept looking around the room, but couldn’t place it. He heard a tiny hum from the security monitors, but that wasn’t it, either.
Abandoning all hope of sleep for a while, Floyd got up and wandered a bit. It was about three in the morning. The Witching Hour, he once had heard. The Devil’s High Noon.
Floyd & Mikki (Book 1): Zombie Hunters (Love Should Be Explosive!) Page 9
