“It’s moving,” James said.
“Can you tell if it’s a zombie?” Nikki inquired, trying to get a better look.
Barry pushed himself up off the ground and limped towards the car. He clutched his right arm and hobbled up to the vehicle. He slipped on the icy road, falling on his back. He rolled over and crawled on his hands and knees the rest of the way to the Impala. Barry reached up and grabbed the passenger side door handle pulling himself up.
“Help me, please!” Barry said. “I’m hurt pretty bad…I barely escaped from those things...my two friends ran off in different directions. I’m not sure if they are still alive. Please you’ve got to help us…”
“Let go of the door handle!” James yelled, raising his shotgun to the window. “Back the hell up!” James pumped the shotgun and aimed it at the man’s head.
“Jim - Don’t shoot! Calm down,” Kara said. “He doesn’t look like a zombie.”
“That doesn’t matter! He could have been bitten. Look at all of that blood.” James became agitated; it took all of his willpower not to squeeze the trigger.
Barry could hear them yelling inside the car. “I’m not a zombie,” Barry said, “I didn’t get bit…I got away from them…” He thought quickly and dropped to his knees again – at least at that lower height, should the shotgun go off, it would miss him if the man in the passenger seat decided to pull the trigger. Barry had no intentions of getting his brains splattered all over Central Avenue.
“James, keep the gun on him,” Corbin instructed. “I’m getting out to check on him.”
“Be careful,” Nikki said.
Corbin had extensive medical experience from years of working at a Dallas fire station. All of the members of his firehouse were certified EMTs. Many times their group would arrive on scene before the ambulances – his crew had to be prepared for just about anything. He opened the door and stepped out onto the icy road.
Rodney watched from the second floor of the pharmacy. As the driver side door opened, Rodney set his sights on the exiting driver. He imagined pulling the trigger. At this range, the round would have decapitated the man; his brains would have painted the icy roads a festive rouge color. He gently tapped the side of the trigger a few times with his index finger, but opted not to fire.
Booger was in position as well inside the hardware store. He couldn’t hear what was going on, but he could clearly see that the passengers inside the car were becoming very agitated. He saw a man exit the vehicle and Booger watched for Barry’s signal.
As the simple-minded redneck waited in silence, he made sure his .357 Magnum handgun was ready for action. Booger casually opened the cylinder spinning the chamber around a few times then closing it after counting all six rounds were in place. He inspected the stainless steel eight inch barrel of the Colt King Cobra that he had stolen from his father many years ago. Matt giggled at the nickname scratched into the thumb-side of the barrel; not at the manufacturer’s name, but the name he had recently carved himself: “Mr. Holmes.” The opposite side of the barrel had twenty parallel scratch marks that he had etched in with his survival knife; each scratch corresponding to a kill. Human or zombie – Matt never really distinguished between the two.
Barry persevered in a kneeling position on the passenger side of the car, again not wanting his head to become spaghetti sauce. He watched as the driver moved towards him, but he never fully took his eyes of the man wielding the shotgun. Barry had anticipated this reaction and did his best to remain calm. He had gambled with his life that this group was not a “shoot first and ask questions later” type. So far, the situation played out the way he had envisioned it.
“My name is Corbin - what’s yours?” Corbin said as he approached the bloody man kneeling against the passenger side of the car.
“I’m…Barry…thank the Merciful Heavenly Father that you found me!” Barry poured it on thick; he had to concentrate, doing what he could to keep from laughing at his own melodramatic response. “I’ve lost a lot of blood…it’s so cold. Please help me!”
“Have you been bitten?”
“No.”
“Are you alone?”
“No,” Barry said. “I have two friends that were with me during the last attack. They ran just like I did. We were attacked outside of the Burger King earlier today.” Barry pointed across the road to the burger joint, the site of the imaginary attack.
As Nikki crawled out of the car on the driver’s side, she spoke to James. “James, would you open the trunk?” James reluctantly lowered the gun and popped the trunk. She went around to the back of the car. Digging around, she finally found some clean rags, bandages and alcohol that they had taken from Kevin’s home. She walked over to the injured man.
“I’m Nikki, don’t be frightened. I just want to help you.”
“I’m Barry and I’m not worried about you,” he said. “It’s that dude with the shotgun that scares the shit out of me!”
“James, put the gun down. It’s OK,” Corbin said, motioning for the old vet to ease up some.
The old marine lowered the weapon reluctantly and got out of the car. However, his attention was not focused on the injured person in front of him like Corbin and Nikki had so recklessly done. Instead he inspected the surrounding area. He looked into windows on both sides of the streets. All his training told him that being overly exposed in the open made his group easy targets. This setup reeked of an ambush.
“We need to find cover or get moving,” James insisted. “I don’t like this. It could be a trap. We are way too exposed.”
“I’m sorry, mister,” Barry said in an effort to distract James. “The only other folks that might be out here are my friends, but I’m not sure where they might have ran off to. After we were attacked, I held off the zombies so that my friends could escape.”
“Those wounds look nasty,” Nikki said as she bandaged up Barry’s arm.
“I’ve lost a lot of blood but I think I’m going to be OK. I really appreciate your help.”
Barry stood up slowly. He faked losing his balance and braced himself on the side of the old muscle car. The ice-cold sheet metal stung his hands and he withdrew them quickly. He steadied himself in an upright position with Nikki’s help. The sleet and snow had accumulated over one inch on the road in the last ten minutes. The car’s windows had begun to ice over as well.
“I hope my friends are alive.” Barry said as he briefly raised both arms in a slight stretching motion as if inspecting the bandaging that was just applied.
“It’s not too tight is it?” Corbin asked.
“No, I think it’s just fine.” Barry smiled.
From his hiding spot perched in the second story window, Rodney saw Barry give the “all clear” signal. Booger slowly rethought through the plan details…and realized that Barry didn’t want him to shoot anything and he began making his way to the back of the store. Rodney was actually quite disappointed. He had secretly hoped for a gunfight or something but it appeared, at least for now, that the bloodshed would have to wait. Both men left their positions and headed for their van.
“We need to get out of this weather and out of sight,” James said. “Anyway, there’s not enough room in the car for another adult.”
“Please don’t leave me here,” Barry pleaded.
“We won’t leave you,” Nikki said. “I’ll put Megan in my lap. That should give us some extra room in the backseat for you, Barry. You can sit in the back with Kara and me.”
“No,” James said. “He can sit up front in the passenger seat. I’ll get in the back so I can watch him.”
James walked to the back of the car and opened the passenger side rear door. Kara was already holding baby Megan in her lap. His sister had heard everything that transpired outside the car. She could see that her brother was severely uncomfortable with the new passenger.
“It’ll be OK,” Kara said.
“Something about this doesn’t feel right. Plus we don’t have enough supplies to su
pport some random ass drifter,” James said as he closely watched Barry enter the car. Nikki got in the back and Kara handed Megan to her mother. Corbin opened the driver side door and dusted off some of the sleet from his head and sat down behind the steering wheel.
“Thank you,” Barry said. “You don’t know how much this means to me to find humans out here…let alone kind souls such as yourselves.” Barry looked in the side mirror and quickly glanced away when he caught sight of James’ piercing gaze.
“Do you have any idea where your friends might have gone?” Corbin asked as he started up the car.
“We had made a plan earlier to meet back at our van should we ever get separated. I’m hoping they went back there. I’d hate to think that anything might have happened to them. They’re like a family to me.” Barry looked down quickly, appearing to be overcome with concern about the well-being of his friends. However, in actuality, Barry was trying to hide the grin that had slowly begun spreading across his face. “This was almost too easy,” he thought to himself.
Kara reached up front and placed a caring hand on Barry’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear – we’ll find them.”
“Where is your van?” Corbin asked.
Barry continued with his act and faked further confusion. He needed to give Booger and Rodney ample time to move from their hiding spots to the van. It would take them some time to get there on foot. Barry stalled.
“I’m not sure…with all of the running around and fighting off those damn zombies…I’ve lost my bearings. I don’t remember where we parked it.”
“Just concentrate, Barry,” Nikki said.
“Look. We need to get to some shelter,” James said angrily. “The roads are slick as owl shit and it’s going to be night soon. We need to find somewhere warm to rest for the evening.”
“But what if my friends are injured?” Barry asked. “What if they need help now? Please, we need to find them before nightfall!”
“Give me a general direction, Barry. We’ll drive around for as long as we can,” Corbin said as he slowly straightened out the car.
“East of here…” Barry replied. “I’m pretty sure it’s within a few blocks. We didn’t travel far before we were attacked. It’s a dark red van. Kind of old and not in very good shape, but it keeps us warm.”
Corbin slowly maneuvered the heavy, rear-wheel drive vehicle down Central Avenue and turned east on some unnamed side street. “Calm down, Barry and try to retrace your steps,” Corbin tried to comfort his new passenger.
“This is pointless,” James interjected. “We are putting ourselves at risk and we don’t even know if his friends are even alive…”
“James!” Kara snapped at her brother’s insensitive comment.
“He’s right,” Barry bowed his head again and remained silent for a few moments. He knew the intersection was coming up fast but didn’t want to let on. He had to make it look like he suddenly remembered.
“Does any of this look familiar, Barry?” Kara inquired.
“Wait! I remember now. We parked next to one of those barber poles. Turn right at the next intersection.” Barry decided enough time had passed. Booger and Rodney should be in place. Plus Barry knew that James was about at his limit. Barry wasn’t stupid. He had accurately assessed the situation and knew that he teetered on the edge of pushing the old marine’s patience too far.
Chapter 20
December 2, 2013: Monday, 4:17 PM – Central Avenue - Hot Springs, Arkansas…
“There!” Barry said as he pointed towards a trio of stores located in a decent sized parking lot just off the main road.
The sleet and ice continued to fall as the winter sun began its early descent into the horizon. Corbin flicked the windshield wipers on and off quickly as he maneuvered the car off the slick road to the spot that Barry had just pointed out. Corbin pulled into a parking spot in front of the barber pole and turned off the ignition. Barry exited the vehicle walking carefully over the iced blacktop to the van. After a quick glance inside the vehicle, he entered the tobacco shop.
From a precursory inspection, James could tell that all three buildings in the lot had seen better days. Almost every windowpane was busted out. The brick exteriors were blackened from rampant fires most likely started by rioters trying to loot the stores at the onset of the zombie pandemic. The roof of the rightmost building had collapsed inward upon itself to the floor crushing multiple display cases.
“I don’t like this one bit,” James said as the passenger side door closed behind Barry.
Corbin turned towards the old vet. “I know, James. I know. Kara and I will go with Barry. James, you and Nikki stay here. Watch our backs.”
“I should go with you,” James said.
“We’ll be fine,” Kara said as she winked at her brother.
Kara and Corbin exited the car taking a closer look at their surroundings. The first building, on the left end of the lot proudly displayed a white sign with red lettering that read: “Prime Time Styles.” Corbin glanced over to the middle store but he couldn’t read the worn off name on the faded old sign; he assumed it had previously been a tobacco store due to the giant cigar displayed above the doorway. Only those two stores were easily identifiable to him as he inspected the final building. The third store had no signs and no obvious markings as to what its main function was prior to the undead infestation. The large maroon van was parked outside of the tobacco shop.
Kara walked over to the van with her right hand close to the .38 Smith & Wesson tucked into her waistband and in her left hand she held a large black flashlight. James watched his sister’s movement every step of the way. He had stepped out of the car propping his shotgun against his shoulder in the ready position just in case. Earlier in the day, he had swapped out the buckshot load for slugs. While the area effect of the buckshot came in handy, he realized from the barn encounter last week that it was too risky to use in close combat if one of his group was in the line of fire. Corbin followed closely behind Kara with his .45 caliber handgun drawn.
Kara peeked into the van as she shined the flashlight’s beam through the dark tinted windows; no one was inside. She tucked the flashlight in her right armpit, looking back towards Corbin giving him a quick thumbs up. Corbin moved to the side of the van next to Kara. James continued to watch all three store fronts. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He didn’t much care for the current situation and he had become frustrated, even angry at Corbin for putting his sister in harm’s way.
“I can’t believe our luck,” a loud voice seeping with a Deep Southern inflection bellowed out of the tobacco shop.
Corbin and Kara spun around towards the door with their guns drawn. James moved a few paces away from the Impala and knelt on the ground. He trained his shotgun on the doorway of the tobacco shop. Barry exited the building first along with two other men following closely behind.
Barry raised his hands into the air. “Hang on guys. These are my two friends that I was telling you about.” Barry pointed to a large bearded man holding two boxes of cheap cigarettes. “This is Booger and the other guy is Rodney.”
Rodney and Booger stood still. Rodney glanced around catching a brief glimpse of the attractive woman next to the van. The woman lowered her gun as did the man directly in front of him. Rodney was transfixed by the woman. He was sure that he would have been able to smell her delicate scent if it wasn’t for the fat redneck standing next to him that was smoking two cigarettes simultaneously.
Corbin and Kara lowered their weapons and walked forward introducing themselves. Corbin moved back slightly to the front of the van and pointed at and introduced James and Nikki. James continued to hold his shotgun focused on the three outsiders. Corbin motioned for the old vet to lower his weapon; James did so as he stood up and walked back to lean against the muscle car. He lit up a cigarette of his own never letting his guard down as he watched the men.
“Is that a fuckin’ baby in the car?”
“Watch the language,
Booger,” Barry instructed. “And yes, it is a baby. Her name is Megan, right?”
“Yes,” Corbin answered as he began to move back towards the Impala.
“Booger?” Kara inquired with a confused almost amused look on her face. “What kind of nickname is that?”
Barry quickly answered, “It’s because he used to pick his nose and eat them in junior high.” Barry did not want his backwards-ass friend to tell the true tactless origin of the nickname.
Booger tilted his head towards Barry but didn’t argue with the explanation. “My name is Matt,” he said, “but yeah folks call me ‘Booger’.”
“Did you guys find anything useful in the other stores?” Kara asked.
“Nah,” Matt responded, “except for these here smokes.” He held up the cartons like a proud father would his newborn child.
Rodney kept quiet. Since he was in no imminent danger of being shot, he walked to the passenger side of the van and entered the vehicle. He leaned back in the seat and fastened his seatbelt. He knew the old military man was watching his every move. Rodney adjusted the seat and mirrors to pretend like he was preparing for the drive. As he did so, he would glance quickly back and forth at Kara. Something about her…he couldn’t get his mind off of her…dirty thoughts darted around in his perverted mind of what he would do with her if they were ever alone.
James flicked his cigarette butt to the ground using the thick heel of his army boot to crush out the hot embers. The old vet meticulously analyzed the man in the van and his two accomplices; James didn’t trust any of them. Something about Barry’s story and his “graphic” wounds didn’t quite add up – the gashes were too neat, too clean. The skinny prick in the van was overly fidgety…always moving around – a grown person unable to sit still made James nervous. As for the fat redneck, whatever his name was, James wasn’t overly concerned. Sure he appeared to be a powerful man, but the old marine knew the hillbilly was at least twice as dumb as he was strong.
Z1N1: The Zombie Pandemic: 2012 Was Just the Beginning Page 20
