by James Gurley
Justin smiled. “I brought a load across the border from Agua Prieta once. He showed me.”
“Take four men and bring back something nice. If you do, you become one of my lieutenants.”
Justin almost fell over himself getting his friends up and moving. Most were still suffering from hangovers, but a few judicious kicks and shoves got them dressed and out the door. A truck cranked and pulled away squealing tires. With his offer to advance Justin for a successful run, he felt confident they would find weapons somewhere.
To two of the women still lying on blankets he yelled, “Get off your asses and clean this pig sty. It stinks in here.”
They glared at him but said nothing. One, a skinny blonde, began walking around the room naked, picking up dirty clothes and discarded plates of food. When she bent over in front of him, purposefully giving him a close up view of her narrow ass, he said, “Get that thing out of my face. Save it for the others. They’re less discriminating than I am.” The second girl, barely out of her teens, chuckled. To her, he snapped, “Shut the hell up or I’ll feed you to the zombies.”
Satisfied he had inspired them to work, at least until he disappeared, he went outside.
The explosions had quieted, but a cloud of black smoke still billowed in the north. If Justin managed to find automatic weapons, all was well and good. If not, there were other places to obtain weapons, other arsenals. The thought of having .50 caliber machine guns or even an armored half track to play with gave him an erection. He reached down and rubbed his crotch.
“Isn’t that my job,” Hawk said, as she walked up beside him.
Damn, she walks light. He wanted to throw her to the ground and fuck her, but he couldn’t spend all his time in bed. “Not at the moment. I’ve got things to do.”
“Here?” she asked. Her eyes were on the two sluts visible through the window still picking up garbage in the living room.
“No, I feel like scouting around a bit.”
“Need company?”
He stared at her. What was behind her offer? Did she want to get him away from the others to kill him? He decided that she didn’t, at least not yet. “What’s it to you?”
Her eyes returned to the two girls. “If they see that you need me, they’ll leave me alone. Otherwise, I’m going to kill the blonde bitch. She bad mouths me behind my back.”
As much as he would like to see a fight between Hawk and the blonde, he knew who would win, no contest. “Sure, tag along if you like.”
He had chosen a new white Ford Explorer from a dealership for his vehicle of choice. It still had the dealer’s sticker on the side window. It gave him a thrill each time he saw the MSRP of twenty-nine thousand dollars. He turned west onto Tangerine Road and drove to I-10. Heading north on the access road, weaving through a sea of parked cars, he got close enough to confirm that it was indeed the National Guard Armory on fire. He was certain it was the group in the jeep. They were becoming an itch he longed to scratch. If Justin came through for him, he would even the score.
“You look like you’re contemplating something nasty,” Hawk said.
He jerked his head to stare at her. He hadn’t realized he had let his anger show. “It’s time to start a war.”
“With whom?”
He nodded at the column of smoke. “The ones who did that.”
“Why do they matter so much? You’ve got twenty men.”
“Because they’re smart. I’ve got clowns to work with.”
She pursed her lips, stung by his comment. “Am I a clown?”
He shook his head and grinned. “You might be the only bright spot in my otherwise dreary life, if I thought I could trust you not to kill me.”
In response, she set her weapon on the rear seat and began stripping off her clothes. When she was completely naked, she lay back on the seat and said, “Do I threaten you now?”
Forgetting where they were and throwing caution to the wind, he dropped his pants and crawled over to her. She accepted him inside her eagerly, rising to meet his thrusts. This was not lovemaking. It was release, pure and simple. He pounded her until he came, and then moved back to his side of the SUV.
As he zipped his pants, he said, “Not as much.”
The intimacy lasted only a few minutes. Zombies clambered over car hoods and crawled from ditches toward them. Any other time he would have stopped to kill them for fun. This time, satisfied, he cranked the SUV and sped away.
14
June 16, 2016 Marana, AZ –
To avoid the clogged interstate and congested access road, Jake directed Jessica to a dirt road leading to Red Rock, a small town a few miles north of Pinal Air Park. Backtracking on dirt roads would require a roundabout approach to reach their destination but would avoid built up areas and the risk of more zombies. He had had enough of zombie killing for one day. The community of Red Rock had almost completely reverted to the desert upon which it had been built. A fire had leveled many houses in the major neighborhoods. Entire streets were lined with ash-filled ruins. Wind-blown sand reached window high in those houses remaining unconsumed by fire. The boulevard running between neighborhoods was now a flat ribbon of brush-filled desert with patches of asphalt showing through.
As they forded the Santa Cruz River in a shaded stand of trees, Jessica stopped the jeep in the middle of the shallow river.
“What are you doing?” Jake asked.
Laughing, she removed her shoes and jumped into the water, wading downstream, kicking and splashing in the water like a child in a puddle.
Exasperated by her actions, Jake called to her, “We don’t have time for this.”
She stared at him. “What? No time to wade a river on a sweltering summer day? Let’s make time.”
“She’s right,” Reed said, removing his own boots and socks.
Outvoted two-to-one, Jake relented. “All right. We splash awhile.”
He removed his boots and socks, rolled up the legs of his jeans, and climbed out of the jeep. He kept his AA-12 with him. The water was cool and refreshing on his feet. Spying the cow piles along the bank, he warned, “Don’t drink the water. It’s not clean.” He scanned the trees, hoping to spot a stray cow for dinner, but saw nothing.
Jessica sat on a boulder in the middle of the stream and let the water circle her legs. She dipped her cupped hands in the water and poured it over her head. “That feels good.”
Reed did her one better by plopping down on his backside in the water and rolling in it. Jake watched on with muted anger at his inability to relax long enough to enjoy a simple wade in the river. Where they saw cool flowing water, he saw a disease-laden stew. Where they saw a thick copse of trees along the sandy banks, he saw hiding places for zombies. Where they saw an opportunity to relax, he saw wasted time.
After ten minutes, he herded them back to the jeep. “We still have shopping to do,” he reminded them.
Passing through downtown Marana, they attracted the attention of several zombies, but Jake did his best to avoid them. Even Reed, perhaps made tranquil by his dip in the river, seemed uninterested in killing them. A small tendril of smoke rose from a window in the elementary school. As they neared the building, he caught the aroma of soup cooking. Someone was still alive and taking refuge in the school. The parking lot sun shelters were topped with solar panels providing power. The steel fences were an effective barrier to roaming zombies, but not against human predators. For a moment, his eyes locked with Jessica’s, and he knew she wanted to check on the survivors. He shook his head. She turned away disappointed.
“If they have weapons, they might shoot first and ask questions later,” he explained in a futile attempt to justify his decision.
She turned back to face him. The track of a tear ran down her cheek. “And if they don’t? Shouldn’t we help them?”
“They’ve got a good location. It seems secure enough.”
“You don’t care if they live or die,” she accused, crossing her arms across her chest in that mill
enniums-old gesture of rejection and denunciation.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he replied harshly.
He didn’t feel like trying to explain to her that whoever was inside, whatever their condition, he didn’t want to risk a confrontation. It was difficult enough to cope with his two current wards. Adding more strangers would upset the dynamic of their little group. In the backseat, Reed coughed.
“What?” Jake snapped, staring at him.
He looked surprised at the question. “Nothing.”
They continued down the road for several minutes in silence. He could feel Reed’s gaze on the back of his neck. If they were trying to induce guilt, it was working. Finally, he said, “Turn around.”
Jessica swung the jeep around in the road and headed back the way they had come. At the entrance to the school, he said, “Pull in here.”
At the chain gate across the entrance, Jessica stopped the jeep. He fished out the Maxim Versa shotgun, filled a bag with shells, and pushed them beneath the gate where they would be plainly visible. He no longer needed the Maxim. He had the AA-12. The shotgun might make a difference to whoever was inside. It was the best he could do without taking on their problems.
“Let’s go.”
Jessica smiled at him. Reed chuckled with delight. He ignored them both.
The Tractor Supply store in Marana was just off the expressway on the access road between Cortaro Farms Road and Ina Road. Of all the area stores, it would have durable clothing, tools, and oil and filters for the vehicles and was far enough away from any neighborhoods to be zombie free. The nearby buildings were businesses and unlikely to harbor zombies. The parking lot was empty of vehicles. He directed Jessica around the side of the building, past the ten-foot-high wrought iron fenced enclosure containing rolls of barb wire, fence posts, and plastic water tanks for cattle. A side door and a roll-up garage door were both closed and the windows unbroken, which was a good sign that the store hadn’t been plundered. They continued to the rear of the building. A second roll-up door was partially open and boxes lay scattered across the asphalt parking lot. His first assumption had been wrong. Someone had been there before them. His first thought was to leave the area, but the building was still their best choice to find what they needed, and the boxes looked weathered, as if they had been there awhile.
They parked out of sight behind the store in the empty parking lot near the fence’s iron gate. Jake pushed the rear roll-up door higher and led the way inside with the AA-12 shotgun. He winced as the squeaky wheels of the door echoed loudly in the cavernous room. The interior was dark, musty, and stifling hot. The windows were dirty, allowing in very little sunlight. A thermometer on the wall read 118 degrees. Jake didn’t doubt it. Each breath of hot, stale air was a challenge. He clicked on his flashlight and played it around the darkened interior.
“Reed, you stay here and keep watch.” To Jessica, he said, “Stay close to me.”
The looters had been haphazard in their pillaging, damaging more items that they took. Jessica zeroed in on the clothing section. While she shopped, methodically rummaging through every shelf, he quickly picked out two pair of jeans, underwear, and tee shirts for himself and tossed them into a shopping cart. He added a case of oil and wiper blades for the jeep, extra paper targets, and arrows for his bow, and a case of mason jars for canning. By the time he had the cart full, Jessica had picked out her wardrobe, including a wide brimmed straw hat and rugged work boots. She pushed the hat onto her head and modeled it for him.
“The perfect thing for gardening, don’t you think?”
“Very chic,” he replied. “That reminds me. I need to pick up fertilizer and work gloves.”
“Why not a rototiller?”
“Rototillers need gas. Besides, hoeing is good exercise. If you’ve got what you need, go relieve Reed so he can shop.”
Before she could leave, two quick rifle shots from the rear of the store reverberated like thunder in the metal building. Jake glanced at Jessica, motioning her to remain where she was, and then rushed to check on Reed. His heart was pumping, his mind racing through different scenarios, expecting trouble. The last thing he expected was to see a smiling Reed proudly displaying a headless six-foot rattlesnake dangling from the barrel of his rifle.
“Bastard almost got me. He was curled up in a coil of rope near the corner of the building. If he hadn’t rattled, I might have stepped on him.”
“Why did you shoot it?’ Jake demanded, relieved to learn that Reed was all right but angry that he had resorted to shooting the snake.
Reed stared at him. “What did you expect me to do, adopt it?”
“Your shots might draw zombies.” He looked at the snake. “You could have just left it alone. It was inside trying to get out of the sun.”
Reed flung the snake down the aisle away from them. “Well, excuse me. I thought I was doing us a favor. Besides, it was clear outside.”
Jake glanced toward the door. “You’re sure?”
Irritated by Jake’s questioning, Reed answered, “Yes, I’m sure. Do you think I’m blind?”
“Okay. Okay. Just be more careful next time.” Jake glanced down at the new belt buckle around Reed’s waist. “Where did you get that?”
Reed pointed to a rack against the side wall, well away from the rear door. “Over there.” He fingered the buckle. “Do you want one?”
Jake tried to keep his voice even, but his frustration at Reed’s lack of concern irritated him. “I thought you were watching the door. How long were you gone?”
Reed frowned. “Just a few minutes. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is I depended on you to guard the door.” He shook his head. “Go get Jessica to relieve you while you get what you need. I’ll start loading the jeep.”
Still pouting from his dressing down, Reed marched to the front of the store. After a few moments, Jake followed him and called to Jessica. “Bring the shopping cart when you come.” He was disappointed by Reed’s lackadaisical attitude. He was a big believer in Jake’s Law #7 – Trust yourself first; others seldom.
As Jessica approached, she said, “Reed’s pissed. What did you do?” She handed over the shopping cart.
By the tone of her voice, she agreed with Reed. “He left his post,” he growled. “We need to know if someone shows up. Keep your eyes open.”
“Is it a firing squad if I don’t?”
He glowered at her. “Don’t tempt me.” He took the cart and rolled it toward the door before she could say anything more.
Between the ammunition and weapons from the National Guard armory and the goods from the store, the jeep would be loaded down. He was pleased that they had made a good haul. They would have to make fewer trips for supplies. As he neared the door, a shadow fell across him, catching him by surprise. Glancing up, he saw a Runner rushing through the door. He barely had time to warn Jessica and raise his shotgun before the creature was upon him. He shoved the cart in the zombie’s path with his foot to slow it down, as he fired from the hip. With the loaded cart in the way, few of the pellets actually struck the creature, doing more damage to the case of motor oil in the bottom of the cart. The creature changed direction and lunged at Jessica, its teeth bared for the bite. She backed up until a storage rack blocked her retreat. Thinking quickly, she pulled the rack over and jumped out of the way as it fell. The rack pinned the Runner to the floor. Jake placed two quick shots into its head, killing it.
The creature wasn’t alone. Two more entered, both dangerous Runners. By then, Reed had joined them, looking confused by the presence of the zombies. He brushed off Jake’s angry stare and said something unintelligible, as a quick, short burst from Jessica’s M16 drowned out his words. Now, only one zombie remained. Jake charged it, aiming for the head. Jake’s Law #1- Aim high; shoot straight. The creature swerved at the last second and his shot went wild. It was too late for another shot. He lowered his shoulder and dove into the creature like a line backer, lifting it from the ground and slamm
ing it back down again on its back with him atop it. Unlike an opponent in a football game, the zombie was unperturbed. Instead of stunned, it was angry, hungry and angry. Jake fought off its frenzied attacks with one arm, while trying to remove his knife from its scabbard with the other.
After what seemed an eternity, the knife was in his hand, but the creature’s mouth was inches from his throat. Its fetid breath sickened him. The smell rising from its unwashed body made his eyes water. The starving animal gleam in its mad eyes made him redouble his efforts. He jabbed the knife into the creature’s neck until his hand was slippery with blood, but it didn’t diminish its attack. He placed his forearm under the creature’s throat and pushed its head backwards.
Jessica stood just inside the door staring at him with a frightened expression.
“Shoot it,” he yelled. He hoped her aim was true, but it would be better to die by a stray bullet than at the hands of the zombie.
She hesitated, but then raised her rifle and fired. The bullet struck the zombie in the back of the head, ripping a large exit hole in the right temple. Spurting blood drenched him, but the creature went limp beneath him. He spit out some of the disgusting foul liquid that splattered into his mouth and wiped his face with his sleeve. He rolled the zombie off him.
Jessica had recovered from her shock and was pointing out the door. “More zombies,” she yelled, “dozens of them, coming from behind the store.” She fired a short burst through the open door.
Jake wiped the gore from his face and rushed to her side. One creature lay dead on the ground just outside the door, but many more were crossing the rear of the lot, half concealed by the dense undergrowth. At least a dozen of the creatures appeared from around the corner of the building, between the store and the road, blocking their exit. The wails as the creatures recognized potential food sent chills down Jake’s spine. It was the sound of starving animals.
“We can close the door,” Reed suggested, “barricade ourselves inside.”
“No, we’ll be trapped. We have to leave now.”
The pair stared at him dumfounded. He knew he presented a ghastly picture, drenched in zombie blood, suggesting they fight their way through a zombie horde. He probably seemed mad to them, but he knew he was right.
