Badass Zombie Road Trip

by Tonia Brown

  “Reno?” he asked.

  Candy nodded.

  Jonah Orville Benton was not a cussing man. Sure, he let a little one slip now and again in frustration or sometimes in joy. But for the most part, he tried to watch his mouth. He felt it was unbecoming to a man, or anyone for that matter, to use such uncalled for and uncouth words. His mother often said there was a time and place for everything, and when one cussed all the time, it lowered the impact of such language. Then, when it came the proper time to cuss, no one would care. Jonah often wondered when, if ever, he would find it appropriate to cuss.

  Now he knew.

  “Mother fuckers!” Jonah screamed.

  Candy’s jaw dropped as Jonah hammered the mattress beneath him with both fists, while releasing a torrent of foul and nasty words.

  “Goddamned cuntbag sonsabitches! Two-bit, cocksucking cum dumpsters! I’ll kill em! I’ll break their fucking necks! Ass-fucking, teabagging, ball-licking pieces of total shit!”

  “Jonah!” Candy yelled. “Calm down.”

  “Calm down? Calm down!” He turned his seething anger on her. “I will not just calm down! Do you have any idea how fucked I am? Do you? Do you?”

  “I know, and I’m so sorry—”

  Jonah cut her apology short with a high-pitched maniacal cackle. “’Sorry’? You’re sorry? You have no idea what you’ve done! Well, fuck you, little Miss Thing, and fuck your ‘sorry’!”

  Candy recoiled from his fury, her look of sorrow draining into confusion. “I deserved that.”

  “Damn right you deserve it!” Ignoring the stabbing pain of his knee, he swung his legs to the edge of the bed and tried to stand. “Get them muscled-up Nancy boys in here so I can give them a piece of my fucking mind. I’m gonna break them in half and shit on their innards!”

  Candy pulled on his arm, drawing him back down to the bed, trying to keep him from falling on his ass. “I know you’re upset about Dale, but if you don’t calm down, they’re just going to put you out again.”

  “For fuck’s sake, I hope they do. I hope they fucking kill me while they’re at it. Then I won’t have to spend the next thirty goddamned hours wondering where in the hell I went wrong on this whole stupid trip!”

  “Please, hun—”

  “Don’t you ‘hun’ me, Candy!” Jonah snorted. “If that’s even your real name!”

  “It is!”

  “Why should I believe you? Why not lie about it? You lied about everything else!”

  Candy released him again, this time moving off the bed and away from him. She trembled against the far wall, on the verge of crying again, as she stared at him from hurt-filled eyes. And as much as he wanted to return to that guilty state of close proximity, holding and cradling and soothing her, he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for her anymore. Sure, this Jack guy had made her life a mess, but she had not only made Jonah’s a mess—she had condemned his very soul to Hell.

  Jonah lay back on the bed, exhausted from his emotional outburst, and said to no one in particular, “We’ll never make it now.” He rubbed his tired eyes, wincing, as—too late—he remembered his broken nose. Dabbing at the dried blood, he considered his options.

  There were none.

  He considered the bright side.

  Again, none.

  “Dorothy,” Candy said.

  Jonah leaned up on his elbows and looked across the room, where she had slumped onto the floor with her knees drawn to her chest. “Who?”

  “My real name. It’s Dorothy.”

  “Really? I would’ve expected Candice or something like that.”

  “No, I’m afraid it’s plain old Dorothy.”

  “Then why—”

  “My grandmother always called me Dot. It turned into Candy Dot when I was in high school, and that sort of stuck. Then folks just started calling me Candy when I came out here. I didn’t correct ‘em, since I was after a new life anyway.”

  “Huh.” He rested against the mattress again. “I guess that’s one thing you didn’t lie about after all.” Twirling his finger in the air, he added, “Huzzah for you.”

  “I didn’t lie about you, either.”

  Jonah lolled his head toward her. “And what does that mean?”

  “I said you were a nice guy, and I meant it. Dale was an asshole, but he didn’t deserve to be shot like a damned dog on the side of the road. And you don’t deserve this. So go ahead and hate me. I’m the only one here who’s earned any of this.” She buried her face in her knees.

  It’s not her fault you lost the bet, his subconscious whispered to him.

  How? If they hadn’t picked her up, they’d almost be there.

  True, his subconscious agreed, but she didn’t make you stop and pick her up. She didn’t invite herself to lunch instead of just parting ways. She didn’t force you to offer her a ride all the way across the states. She wasn’t the one who forgot that you couldn’t use a GPS and lost you all that precious time.

  Why was his subconscious defending her?

  Because I hate to see someone get blamed for something she didn’t do. If you’re gonna get mad, get mad at Dale. He’s the one who dragged her along. She’s only guilty of three things here. Lying and thievery and …

  And? The third thing? What was the third thing?

  “That’s for her to know,” Satan said, “and for you to find out.”

  Jonah sat up and eyed the Lord of Darkness. “How long have you been here?”

  Satan stood with his arms crossed, leaning back against the door. “Long enough to know you screwed up pretty bad this time.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.” Jonah waved at Candy. “It was hers.”

  “I know it’s my fault!” she yelled. “Now just leave me alone.”

  “Cute kid,” Satan said. “Some issues with her temper, but nice tits.”

  “Shut up,” Jonah said.

  Candy sank lower into her own lap.

  “Aw, come on now. It’s not like you want her anymore.” Satan crossed the room and crouched in front of Candy. “Personally, I like a big set of knockers. And a big ass. Gives me something to hang onto when I’m playing hide the salami.”

  “Leave her alone,” Jonah warned.

  At his warning, Candy looked up, worry dancing in her damp eyes.

  “What do you think, Jonah?” Satan asked, as he stood again, still staring down at Candy. “You reckon she blows on the first date? Or does she strike you as easier than that? Because I think she just might be.”

  Jonah got to his feet and growled, “You better back the fuck off of her. Now.”

  “Who are you talkin’ to?” Candy asked, looking back and forth between Jonah and the space to her left.

  The space Satan was occupying, at least as far as Jonah was concerned.

  Jonah glanced down at Candy, then back up to the Devil, then back down to Candy again. He should have known better. Should have expected something like this.

  She couldn’t see the Devil. She couldn’t hear him either.

  “Yeah, hun.” Satan asked, in a mocking Southern twang. “Who ya talkin’ to?”

  “Oh, no,” Jonah said. With wincing limps, he took a few steps forward as he shook his fist at Satan. “No! No! No! You’ve led me on and tripped me up and forced me to drive halfway across the U.S. only to have some hired goons drag me back again. You stuck me with that… that… thing you call Dale. You’ve lied to me and used me, and you stole my soul! I’ve been shot at and wanted by the law and almost choked to death and beaten down and knocked back! But you will not make me look like a lunatic in front of her!”

  Satan never stopped grinning. He was obviously enjoying himself. “What are you asking?”

  “I’m not asking anything! I’m demanding you make yourself known to her, you two-bit, sleazy, double-dealing son of a whore!”

  “For the last time, I’m not a two-bit anything. It will serve you to know I have more bits than you can shake a stick at.”

  “Just do it.”


  “Are you sure it’s wise?”

  “I’ve never been so sure about anything in all my days.”

  “Who am I to deny a friend his dying wish?” Satan asked.

  Without warning, Candy gasped, then scrambled backward along the baseboard and away from Lucifer. She came to a cowering rest against the dresser and stared up at the Devil. Her eyes went wide with shock for exactly ten seconds, then the surprise was replaced by a burning hatred.

  “You!” she hollered, and lifted an accusing finger at Lucifer.

  “Hello again, my lady,” Satan said, and gave a slight bow.

  “Don’t you ‘lady’ me, you jerk wad!”

  “You know him?” Jonah asked.

  “Know him? I’ll never forget him!” Candy rose to her full height and fury, seething in quick breaths with a righteous anger, her nostrils flaring wide enough for one to see straight into her sinuses. “He’s the asshole who sold me that car!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Reno, NV

  26 hours: 27 minutes: 55 seconds remaining

  “You said that Stanza would get at least three thousand miles!” Candy shouted.

  “No,” Satan said. “I told you it would get up to three thousand miles. You should have paid more attention. But you were in an awful rush to get on the road. Weren’t you?”

  Candy growled. Not just a grumble of words. The woman actually growled like an animal. “You know, it makes perfect sense that you’re working for Jack. What’d he do? Call you and let you know I was coming? No wonder I got that lemon so cheap.”

  “Him?” Satan gave a low laugh. “Sweet cheeks, I hate to destroy your big, scary image of the man, but he’s a small dog. A very small dog. I like his style, but he still has a long way to go before he starts dealing with the likes of me.”

  Candy cut her eyes at the Devil. “Then what are you doing here?”

  Satan glanced at Jonah.

  Candy followed the Devil’s glare. “You know him?”

  “Well …” Jonah floundered for an answer before settling on the truth. “Yes?”

  It was a matter of seconds before she started connecting whatever dots she thought she saw. “I get it now. It was set up from the start. You’re all working together. You planned that whole breakdown.”

  “No. We know each other because… well… it’s hard to explain.”

  “I’ll bet it is,” Candy sneered. “And you had the nerve to call me a liar?”

  “I haven’t lied. I just didn’t tell you everything.” Jonah reached for her. “Just give me a chance—”

  “Don’t touch me!” She pushed Jonah away, heedless of his injuries or lack of balance.

  Jonah tumbled backward, landing on the bed with a huff, his knee shooting signals of fire and brimstone straight to his brain. What the fuck? She was the one who got him shot. She was the one who lost him almost three days. She was the one who fucked up his life. Why in the hell was she pissed at him?

  “Did you know I had the money the whole time?” she asked. “Or were you just trying to get into my pants?”

  “Candy—” Jonah started.

  “Well screw you, Jonah. If that even is your real name!”

  “Keep it down in there!” Murray yelled from the hallway.

  “Fuck you, Murray!” Jonah and Candy yelled together.

  A muffled snicker drifted through the door, followed by retreating footsteps as Murray left them alone again. Candy stared hard at Jonah, but thankfully she had stopped hollering.

  “Please,” Jonah said with as much gentleness as he could muster. “Let me explain.”

  “Sure,” she snapped. “Go ahead. Explain yourself. Tell me how you and this two-bit used car salesman just happen to know each other.”

  “What is it with the two bits?” Satan asked.

  Candy turned on Satan, rabid and wild, poking her finger in his chest with every word. “You stay out of this! If you so much as open your mouth again, I swear to God I will kick you so hard in the balls, come will shoot out your nose.”

  Satan lifted his hands and backed away from her. Jonah had to admire a woman who could put the Devil in his place.

  “Now,” she said, returning the focus of her ire to Jonah. “Tell me. And this better be fucking good.”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, and ignoring his griping knee, Jonah gave her an abbreviated version of his tale, from Point A to Point Fuck Up, with the occasional noncommittal nod from Satan to back him up. He left out some of the less desirable details, including the details of Dale’s bodily functions, the zombie’s need to feed on living things, the incident with the clerk, and of course the fact that he was still totally in love with her even though she had almost gotten him killed.

  “That’s when we stopped for you,” Jonah said, wrapping up his tale of woe, “and you know the rest. Mostly.” There was little need to tell her more. Aside from the thumb escapade, she really did know the rest. After all, she had been there. This condensed tale took less than two minutes to explain, and when he was done, Candy had lost her look of abject anger. Instead she watched him with mild amusement.

  “Let me see if I understand this,” she said. “You expect me to believe that that man is Satan.” She pointed at Lucifer, who gave another half bow.

  “Yeah,” Jonah said.

  “And you’re going to lose your soul to him if he wins this bet of yours?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And …” she paused as she gripped her forehead, “I can’t believe I’m even asking this… you think Dale was a zombie?”

  Jonah hesitated on his agreement for that one, because when another person said it aloud, it sounded even more ridiculous than it did in his head. “Well, from what I understand, he’s undead.”

  “I see.” She smirked.

  And with her smirk, he knew he had lost her. There was no way she was going to accept it. Jonah had a hard time believing it was true; how could he make her believe? “Trust me, I know how it sounds, but I swear it’s the truth. You have to believe me.”

  “Believe you? Why not? It’s easy to believe you were stupid enough to make a deal with the Devil. What I’m having a hard time with is that Dale was already dead before he spilled his guts all over the highway.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s really hard to swallow, but—”

  “I find it even harder to believe that you have seven days to win your soul back from this moron.” She thumbed in Satan’s direction.

  “Had seven days,” Lucifer said.

  Candy rolled her eyes at his interruption. “Oh, what now?”

  “Go on.” Satan nodded to Jonah. “It’s your story.”

  “Thanks for that,” Jonah grumbled. He wrung his hands, doing his best to ignore the fireworks going off in his ruined knee. “We had seven days, but …”

  “But?” Candy asked, an eyebrow arched in question.

  “But… when you used a GPS, you broke a rule and cost us a few days.”

  “Of course,” Candy said, her body language returning to shutdown mode as she crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “That makes all sorts of sense.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. I’m sorry—”

  “No, no, no. Don’t apologize.” Then she surprised him by smiling again. “I appreciate you including me in this little fantasy of yours. It’s kind of sweet.”

  “Is it?”

  Candy lost the smile as she yelled, “No, you dumb ass!” She moved toward him, her voice expanding in volume and anger. “I know I fucked up by dragging you into this bullshit situation, and if you say you aren’t working for Jack, then okay, you aren’t working for Jack. But why this stupid song and dance? Huh?”

  “It’s not—”

  “Are you having fun with this cockamamie story? Huh? You havin’ a good time trying to make me look like a fool?”

  “What?” Jonah was mystified at her talent for table turning. Once again, despite her being the complete villain—the liar, the thief, t
he consumer of his precious time—she had somehow placed him on the receiving end of the guilt. “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know, Jonah. You tell me.” Candy stopped a few steps from Jonah and huffed. “You know, you West Coast assholes are all the fucking same. You think just ‘cause a girl was raised in the Deep South, she’s spooked by every little mention of the Devil. Well you know what? I ain’t afraid of Satan. I’ve had run-ins with men much worse than the supposed Devil ever claimed to be. Men who’ll rip out your heart for a buck, then spit on the fucker for free. Men who say they love you …” Stopping her own tirade short, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked away as if ashamed.

  Jonah found himself suddenly embarrassed of his soft existence and easy life.

  “The things they make you say,” she whispered. “Make you do. God, it makes me sick thinking about it.” Candy drew a deep breath, seeming to regain control of herself, before she finished with, “So don’t go waving around your little biblical story time at me and just expect me to roll over and show my belly. I stopped worrying about the Devil years ago, when God stopped worrying about me.”

  Jonah didn’t know what else to say. What else to do. He looked up to Satan, seeking a word of advice from the Lord of Darkness. Satan shrugged, flustering Jonah with the simple gesture. “Say something!”