“She’s gone. It’s over,” he said from a million miles away. “She looked so peaceful at the end. I know Little Eddie was there to meet her.”
Jennifer woke up to hear the news, and both women expressed their heartfelt condolences.
“Jennifer, please promise me that if I don’t return, you will honor my wife’s dying wish and have her buried in the park with our son. Do you know where that is, Jennifer?”
“Uh, yes, I know the spot. I, uh, yes, I promise,” Jennifer replied, more fearful at that moment of Eddie’s complete lack of outward emotion than any of the brothers’ frequent tantrums. His face was like the deceptively cool, bland exterior of a nuclear weapon.
Becks knew the actions of the next few hours were inevitable, so she didn’t bother arguing. But as her life would also be on the line, she would do her damnedest to not go about it half-cocked and rage-driven.
“No one needs to know we were ever here, Jennifer, so don’t worry. And if things go well and you want to leave with us, then that’s okay with me,” Becks added, actually getting the woman to make eye contact for a moment and smile. She then addressed Eddie. “We go in quietly. No shooting unless we have to. We kill the two brothers and get out. We take Jennifer and Donnie, and we run.”
Eddie remained silent, but Jennifer spoke up.
“It’s very nice of you to offer, but I just couldn’t go with you,” she said, eyes downcast. “I’m not treated well here, I think you know that, but I just don’t have the courage to go out there with all those horrible creatures. I’m a coward, and I’m not ashamed to say it.”
Becks often forgot that not everyone had the intestinal fortitude to look a zombie in the eye and then drive a knife through it. To people like Jennifer, the tyranny of New Ridgelawn was heaven compared to the alternative of fending for yourself and fighting for your life. The New Hampshire motto of “Live free or die,” was just not everyone’s cup of tea. Becks wasn’t about to waste her breath or her time trying to convince Jennifer of the benefits of risking her life for freedom, because it was either a desire you had, or you didn’t.
“What’s the best way in and out of The Capitol? Where do the brothers sleep?” Eddie asked in a steely tone that indicated he wanted all the information, and he wanted it now. Or else.
Jennifer’s voice trembled as she divulged the necessary information about the doors, room layout, and placement of guards. To her way of thinking, this was a no-win situation. If the plan failed and the brothers discovered her role in the plot, she would be fed to the zombies.
If the plan succeeded and the brothers were killed, the community might fall apart and she would be on or own, or someone else even more despotic and deranged might take charge. The possibility that someone benevolent might form a true, democratic society, actually making life better, never entered her mind. She was someone born into disappointment and never failed to sink below the level of any challenge.
At least Jennifer wasn’t so cowardly that she would actually turn in Becks and Eddie to score some major brownie points with the brothers. Even she had her limits. She also didn’t want to see any of the good people in town get hurt, so she found the courage to speak up and ask that they limit their killing to the brothers and their personal guards, who were truly the only genuinely cruel and ruthless people in town. But then she went too far with her next suggestion.
“You know, the brothers don’t know you’re alive, so you could just leave now and everything would be okay.”
This ruptured the first crack in Eddie’s stone-faced exterior, but before he went ballistic on the woman, Becks took her by the arm and hurried her to the kitchen. She explained all about Little Eddie’s murder, Isabella’s kidnapping, and the raid on Eddie’s house. Becks even told her about Angie’s death, although she left out the part about shooting Reggie. Jennifer held a hand over her heart as Becks spoke, and said, “Oh my,” several times, but couldn’t think of anything else to say. When they went back into the living room, Jennifer apologized to Eddie and “quite agreed the brothers should be punished.”
Jennifer then got the cleanest and least tattered sheet she had to place over Isabella’s body, and Eddie placed the dried marigolds on top of the sheet. He whispered a few words, stood up, and blew a kiss toward the body of his wife. Then he began a systematic check of all the weapons he was carrying.
“I’m going to be the one to actually kill those two bastards,” Eddie stated in an end-of-discussion manner.
“I have no problem with that,” Becks said as she conducted her own weapons check. “Just so long as it’s quiet and fast.”
They both thanked Jennifer before slipping out the back door. Adjusting their night vision goggles, the two hopeful assassins began retracing their path through the yard and onto the apartment house property. As they passed the bedroom window where the amorous couple had been making such a racket, the same loud moans and groans could plainly be heard. They were either still at it, or at it again—either way, it was impressive.
The town was still and quiet, except for the constant rustling of garbage from all the rats. Even though the brothers had initiated an aggressive rat trapping campaign—which coincidentally saw a simultaneous increase in the availability of meat stew rations—the rodent population continued to grow in leaps and bounds. Rat bites were now more frequent that zombie bites, and while not nearly as fatal, they did spread their share of disease in the community.
Cleaning up all the garbage should have been the obvious first step in eliminating the infected rodent problem, and god knows what other diseases that were lurking in the wide variety of filth mixed with human waste that lined the streets. But other than the well-fed brothers and their personal guards, the rest of the population of New Ridgelawn appeared to be seriously malnourished, depressed, and apathetic. They were alive, but they certainly weren’t living. Other than going on patrol or carrying out their work assignments, their days consisted of nothing more than eating, sleeping, and huddling in their cold, dirty homes in a sort of zombie-like state. And apart from that “marathon couple” at the apartment building, no one had any desire or energy for anything else.
Becks thought of the contrast between this town and Cam’s compound up in Saugerties, NY. Cam knew the value of keeping everyone engaged physically, mentally, and emotionally. They had all certainly faced many dark days, but through his leadership, the people all managed to rise back up and persevere. Becks would have given anything at that moment to be back at the compound with Cam, and she couldn’t help the unpleasant twinge of wondering if she would ever see him again. Presently, however, she did not have the luxury of entertaining any memories of the past or hopes for the future. She had to focus solely on the mission goals—kill and escape.
One at a time, they raced across the intersection that was just two houses away from The Capitol. No one seemed to notice their movement, so they continued to creep behind trees, piles of trash, and long-dormant cars caked in thick layers of dirt and leaves. Their planned route was to once again approach from the rear. There were a few small houses on the street behind The Capitol, and these places were occupied by members of the personal guard and were in much better condition. Obviously, it was someone’s job to keep the ruling class’ yards and homes in good order.
As they were about to go between two of the houses, Eddie spotted a large doghouse in the backyard to their right.
I wonder, he thought, but before he could voice his concern a huge Doberman launched out of the doghouse to the end of his 8-foot chain like a tethered rocket. And his ferocious barking seemed just as loud as a rocket launch. Eddie withdrew his machete and started running toward the dog, but Becks was two steps ahead of him.
She was reaching for something else—her “emergency” chocolate bar she always kept with her for those days when she just had to have a bite. This particular candy had been part of the old Halloween stash of Dylan and his brothers in the first house she had broken into after the accident. She h
ad eaten all the other stale mini Snickers and Mounds, and this was her last one—partially crushed and half-melted Twix bars that nonetheless would have made her feel like she had died and gone to heaven. But now it was needed to keep her from literally dying.
Rushing toward an angry Doberman wasn’t the safest thing, but Becks had a way with agitated dogs—much more so than people—and she prayed her “dog whisperer” skills would not fail her now. The dog was clearly surprised that his fierce barking had not made the people run away, and had instead caused them to run toward him, and he actually fell silent for a moment and stepped back as Becks raced over to him and slid down onto her knees, while thrusting the candy bar package under his nose.
“Who’s a good boy? Oh, what a sweetie pie you are,” Becks cooed softly as she dared to rub the mighty watch dog behind his ear, while keeping the candy bar under his nose. Eddie could have silenced the dog with one swift blow, but Becks was such a sucker for animals, especially dogs—so much so, she was willing to risk her neck, and even sacrifice her last chocolate bar.
The brute of an animal immediately started drooling and his demeanor instantly transformed to one of I’m-a-good-boy-who-deserves-a-treat, as the little stump of his tail wagged wildly. Eddie stopped short, machete raised, and just watched in wonder as Becks unwrapped the Twix bars and actually got the dog to sit and give her his paw before she fed him his treat. She then got several appreciative licks in the face, before she unfastened his collar and let him go running happily off into the night to chase rats.
However, before they could move on, they heard other animal sounds from the oversized doghouse. This was more pathetic than threatening, and the whimpering sounded oddly familiar. Becks leaned over to look, and there were Buttons and Smidgey, huddled together and trembling in a back corner of the doghouse. Their hair was dirty and matted, and the brightly-colored bows were gone, but at least they were still alive, and had made a big, powerful friend.
It took a little coaxing, but Becks was able to get the frightened animals to come out. It was a moment or two before they recognized her, but when they did it was like a little explosion of nervous energy which resulted in frantic licking of Becks’ face. Twice, she had to wipe dog licks off her night vision goggles.
“Do you have any more energy bars?” Becks whispered to Eddie.
“You want me to waste them on these dogs?” he replied, incredulous.
“Just think of it as bribery to buy their silence.”
Eddie reluctantly pulled another energy bar from his pack, and broke it in half. Smidgey and Buttons practically took off his fingers grabbing their shares, and then ran back into the doghouse with their feast.
Fortunately, the commotion with the dogs didn’t rouse anyone from their beds, so Becks and Eddie continued their approach to the back of The Capitol, where they trusted no more noisy surprises awaited them. There was one guard sitting on a stool by the back door. The barking had momentarily awakened him, but after a few minutes he dozed off again.
“You want to give him a box of candy and rub his ears, or can I take care of him?” Eddie whispered.
Becks looked at the greasy-haired, middle-aged man whose tattooed belly was hanging out from under his jacket and spilling over the top of his jeans, and she quickly gave Eddie the go ahead to do his thing. That thing happened to be silently creeping up on the man and cleaving his skull in two, right down to his neck. Eddie then calmly wiped off the blade of his machete on the man’s pants. Becks’ only thought as she watched this was that she wished she possessed that kind of strength.
The door was unlocked, but it creaked and groaned just a bit as it opened. They entered the former kitchen of the house, which had been turned into an office for the funeral home. It was now used as a storage room for boxes of food and supplies—only a small fraction of which would ever be distributed to the community. Becks caught sight of a cardboard box labeled M&Ms, but she resisted temptation and followed Eddie to a back staircase that Jennifer said led up to a hallway between the brothers’ bedrooms.
Mr. Reggie’s had been the first bedroom on the right, with the other two brothers having their bedrooms on the left. What Jennifer forgot to tell them was that the Big Gorilla—inappropriately named Ned, of all things—had moved from his sleeping quarters in the embalming room in the basement into Reggie’s room to be closer to the other brothers in case of an emergency. But if all went according to plan, that oversight wouldn’t matter.
They paused in front of the first door on the left, and Becks pressed her ear against the cool, white, glossy paint. Someone inside was snoring, and she gave Eddie the thumbs up. Turning the doorknob ever so slowly, there was a sharp click, but the snoring didn’t change its rhythm. Becks stayed by the door as lookout while Eddie silently tiptoed across the thickly carpeted floor toward the bed. As he approached, he raised his machete and thought, This one is for you, Little Eddie. And the next one will be for Izzy.
Beck expected the distinctive crunch-slurp sound of metal slashing through bone and brain, but seconds ticked by. Glancing in the room, she saw Eddie standing beside the bed, machete at the ready, but not moving. And even with his eyes covered by the goggles, Becks could see his expression was one of that volcano about to erupt.
Oh, no, no, please, NO! Becks thought as she wasn’t sure what she should do, but that decision was instantly taken out of her hands.
“You SICK SON OF A BITCH!” Eddie roared, as if he wanted all of northern New Jersey to hear him.
Plans A, B, and C went right out the window when Eddie discovered that this brother was not alone in bed. There was also a girl—maybe 10 years old. She could have been a classmate of Little Eddie, and now was a plaything for this vile man. That just broke everything loose inside of Eddie, who had lost his son just a few months earlier because of the brothers, and his wife, less than an hour ago.
Becks pulled out both pistols and faced down the hall to the second bedroom on the left, expecting the other brother to come out of his room. What she didn’t expect was Ned, the Big Gorilla, to come hurtling out of the door behind her, like a freight train hitting a box of crystal glasses. Both guns flew out of her hands, and as she hit the floor, with the beast on top of her, all the wind was knocked out of her lungs. The incredible impact actually made her ears ring, and her head imploded with pain and dizziness. She didn’t quite black out, but she was so dazed and out of it she couldn’t function past a few involuntary twitches.
By the time Ned got up off of Becks, rushed into the first brother’s bedroom, and switched on the light, he saw a sight that shocked even him. With his left hand, Eddie had the brother by his fat, sweaty neck, pressed against the wall about three feet above the floor. With his right hand—the hand that gripped the machete—he was just completing a sternum-to-pelvis gutting, which resulted in a rush of sliced intestines and organs spilling onto the floor in a sickening plop, plop.
The young girl shrieked and then fainted. Eddie let the brother drop to the floor, onto the pile of his own guts, where he made a couple of gurgling sounds until his breathing stopped forever. Whether savoring his kill, or stunned by his own brutality, Eddie paused long enough to give Ned the opportunity to plow into him from behind. Eddie was a big man, but Ned had several inches in height and at least 60 pounds more weight, and the massive collision brought both men down hard onto the bloody and gooey remains of the brother.
Eddie’s right arm bent at an awkward angle, thrusting the tip of the machete into his left thigh. It barely missed severing an artery, which quickly would have been fatal, but it still bled profusely as the two giants grappled with one another. Furniture splintered, glass shattered, and iron fists connected with stone jaws as this clash of the titans seemingly threatened to turn the entire house to rubble. Despite being the smaller man—in relative terms, of course—Eddie was the better fighter, and was slowly but surely pummeling the bigger man into submission.
Becks could only surmise what was going on, and her eyes
flickered open just long enough to see a pair of chubby bare feet, with dirty, yellowed toenails that desperately needed clipping, come rushing out of the second bedroom on the left, hesitate, and then none-too-gently step over her prone body. Then a gunshot rang out, which made her ears and head pound even more, and her eyes closed once again as she sank back into a twilight state.
The bullet from the only remaining brother’s gun had passed just inches from Ned’s and Eddie’s heads. Ned dropped to the floor, and before the brother could pull the trigger again on his now unobstructed target, Eddie launched himself Superman-style toward the lace curtain-covered window, his bulk easily smashing the strips of wood that held the six, large panes of glass. The roof of the side porch broke his fall and held his plummeting weight, and as the brother stuck his pistol out the window and started emptying the clip, Eddie rolled off the roof and dropped to the ground, quickly disappearing into the darkness.
Guards came running from every direction, and were dumbfounded and appalled when they came upon the barely conscious stranger in the hallway, the battered and bloodied Ned whimpering on the floor nursing his wounds, an unconscious pre-adolescent girl in the bed, and one brother crying hysterically over the gutted corpse of the other brother.
Minutes passed before the sobbing brother was able to blurt out, “Eddie Tasi did this! Find him and kill him! Kill him, kill, him, kill him!”
“Uh, what…what about the girl…and that woman in the hall?” one of the guards sheepishly asked, having no clue about what had transpired.
“Never mind the girl, and bring that woman to my office!” the brother shouted, and then walked over to Ned and gave him a swift kick. “Get up, you big baby! We need answers.”
The glass of cold water thrown in Becks’ face didn’t quite bring her back to full consciousness, but the potent ampule of smelling salts—something funeral homes had in abundance—finally did. She was sitting in a chair, surprisingly not tied up, and as the scene came into focus she saw the Big Gorilla, both eyes blackened, nose broken, and two or three teeth knocked out, and one of the brothers, clad just in his boxer shorts and covered from bald head to ugly toes in his brother’s blood. The brother was obviously half out of his mind with grief and rage, and the gun pointed at Becks’ head shook like a leaf in his trembling hand.
HVZA (Book 2): Hudson Valley Zombie Apocalypse 2 Page 15
