He held his hands out and he looked around as if he was looking for his ever present homeboys to come to his defense. He eventually spotted Darius, I guess he had forgotten all about him. “Man, why did you shoot my boy like that? Can’t you do something for him?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Of course.” I set my rifle down against the front bumper of his car and walked over to Darius. He was bleeding profusely and had lost consciousness by now. I retrieved my lock-blade knife, bent down, and slit his throat. He gurgled once and then became still. He was going to die anyway. I just hastened the process by a few seconds. I avoided the spurting blood from the neck wound, wiped the knife blade on his jacket, stood up and turned.
Jason had my rifle. He had his finger on the trigger and the barrel pointed at me. “You should put the weapon down.” I said. He ignored my suggestion and brought the rifle up to his shoulder. “I would prefer you not do that.”
His mouth dropped open and he arched his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oh, you would prefer it? You would prefer it? Fuck you and your preferences! You had your chance. Instead, you just had to go running your punk mouth. Now shut the fuck up because now it’s my turn to talk. You are a fucking loser Zach Gunderson, you always have been. You think since the world went to hell now you’re something special ‘cause you got a supply of food and we don’t? Fuck you Zach! Fuck you!” I think he was trying to tell me something. “You ain’t nothing!”
I nodded my head and tried to act like I was duly chastened. “I’m sure your friends would agree with you. Well, if I hadn’t killed them, but if they were alive, they would certainly agree with you. Oh well, fuck them. More steaks for you, right?” He continued glaring at me. I think my facetious logic confused him. “Jason, I’m asking you to put the rifle down. I can help you get Macie.”
“I don’t want your fucking help Zach. I’m going to kill you and that old man, wherever he is, and then I’m going to get Macie, we’re going to move in your fucking house, we’re going to eat your fucking food, and I’m going to fuck her in your own fucking bed!”
“You sure do say fuck a lot.” I lamented. “A limited vocabulary is an overt indicator of stupidity, did you know that, or are you too stupid to comprehend how utterly stupid you really are?” In case you’re wondering, yes. I was goading him.
It worked. Spittle flew out of his mouth as he screamed. “Shut the fuck up!” He took aim and fired. No, not really. He took aim and pulled the trigger. The rifle was empty. I had unloaded it during the casual stroll from Rick’s hill to the bridge.
I shook my head and sighed. “You are one dumb fucker.” He tried to work the action of the rifle, but apparently was unfamiliar with it. So, out of frustration, he yelled and charged me with the rifle held high over his head. I’m sure he had seen this move in one of those old World War Two movies. I guess he thought he was going to bash my head in with the butt stock. I had my Glock, but did not bother using it. When he got close enough to touch me, I deftly side stepped him and thrust my knife with a backhand stab into the side of his neck. He grunted in sudden pain, reached for it, but I pulled it out before he could grab it. I had hit an artery. He was going to bleed out in a matter of seconds. He grabbed at his neck where the knife had entered. Blood spurted between his fingers. I changed my grip on the knife, took a lunging step, and stabbed him again. This one entered just below his sternum. It was merely for good measure. He dropped the rifle and fell to the ground. The stab in the neck was probably adequate, without an ambulance to come save him he would have bled out, but I wanted to make sure. This man was, and had been, an albatross around my neck.
I sat down beside Mr. Jason Argos and waited for the shakes to stop as I watched him exhale his last breath in a bloody gurgle. I squeezed my eyes shut for a long minute after his final death rattle. When I opened them again my breathing had slowed and the shakes had abated. I was surprised at how much rage I had for him, but I worked it out I think. Good riddance. I gave him every chance I could to make amends with him.
I looked around and surveyed all of the damage. In addition to the shot up truck, ruined cooler, bullet infested steaks, he had dropped Rick’s beautiful rifle. I picked it up and inspected it for damage. There was a small scratch on the stock, but more importantly, the scope was broken. Damn. I checked myself for any injuries and then retrieved some hand sanitizer out of the glove box.
While I was lost in thought, the Dodge Stratus started up and backed out quickly. Who the hell was in the car? The driver did a 180 degree fishtail, threw it in drive, and floored it before I could even react. The sunlight was glaring off of the windshield, preventing me from seeing who was driving. I retrieved my Glock and managed to shoot once before it rounded the curve. I retrieved my radio. “The car is coming out. Take care of it!” I got a click in reply. I guess it was time to see what kind of mettle she had. I started running toward Julie.
*****
Julie gasped when she heard the gunshots. It was a frenzied staccato of fire from at least two rifles. She became worried until she heard the booming report of Zach’s hi-powered rifle. It had a quite distinctive sound. There was a minute of silence and then she heard more gunfire. It was followed by another report of Zach’s rifle.
She knew, well she hoped, that all was good. Zach was a really good shot. He confirmed it a moment later on the radio. She breathed a sigh of relief until she remembered that there were three of them and she only heard Zach shoot twice. She looked around for any threats, but the immediate area, or what Zach called her AO – area of operation, was deathly quiet. She sat in silence. It seemed like an eternity had passed since Zach had spoken to her. She was getting worried again. She thought she heard yelling and the faint sounds of a struggle, but could not be sure. A few more minutes passed, and then she heard tires squealing.
“The car is coming out, take care of it!” Zach shouted into the radio. Julie keyed the microphone once in acknowledgement. It must be Jason. He’s escaped. She checked her weapon once more, making sure this time she had the selector lever set to fire. She was ready. The car appeared. She had a brief moment of anxiety as she wondered where to aim first. The radiator, the tires, or through the window? She chose the latter. Julie fired three quick rounds where the driver should be sitting, fired three rounds into the front grill, and then shot continuously as the car drove by and approached the intersection.
The car continued through the intersection and crashed into the ditch on the far side of the roadway. Julie stared at it stupefied for a moment. Then she realized she had the rifle in a death grip and could not feel anything from the waist down. She wondered if she might have been shot. She pried one of her hands loose, and started feeling around her face and torso. Satisfying herself that there were no unnatural holes in her body, she climbed out of the sniper position and slowly started walking toward the wrecked car. She held the AR-15 stiffly in front of her, and got to the middle of the road before stopping suddenly. The car’s engine was revving at a high rate of speed, as if the driver had the accelerator mashed to the floor.
She felt the sudden need to reload the weapon. She took a hard look at the car and tried to spot any movement through the windows. Nothing. She fumbled with the release button and got the empty magazine to drop, fumbled with the tactical vest, finally got a firm grip of a loaded magazine, and was able to get it seated in the rifle in one try. Tugging on it to make sure it was seated properly, it suddenly dawned on her, standing in the middle of the road with no cover was a very stupid place to reload one’s weapon. She was glad Zach did not see the faux pas. She inched her way forward to the car, finally made it to the driver’s side, and peered in. It was Chad. His head was tilted forward, and it looked a bit like he was sleeping.
The driver’s window was either busted out or rolled down. She shouted to him over the noise of the engine. “Chad, turn the damn car off!” He ignored her. “I said turn the car off!” This time she nudged his shoulder with the barrel of the rifle to emphasize her demand.
His head rolled. That was when she saw the right side of his head. Somehow, the .223 caliber bullet did not penetrate all the way through. Its shape was probably deformed when it passed through the passenger side window. The window must have slowed the velocity of the bullet enough so that once it entered the skull, it stayed there.
Somewhere, she heard a small voice telling her she had missed all of the front shots and did not hit Chad until he was driving past. She hoped Zach would not notice. She continued staring at Chad. He was quite dead. She was still staring at him when she heard Zach’s voice.
*****
I ran as fast as I could. It was about a hundred yard jaunt around a blind curve. I had no visual whatsoever of Julie and what may have happened. I had heard the gunshots, but could not be sure they all came from her weapon. As I came around the curve I first spotted the black Dodge Stratus, wrecked on the far side of the two lane roadway. I then spotted Julie standing beside the driver’s side. I slowed, held my handgun at the ready position, and approached slowly.
I took slow deep breaths. “Julie!” She didn’t seem to hear me or was ignoring me. “Julie, it’s me! I’m walking up!” I definitely did not want her to shoot me accidentally. I stared hard at the car, wondering who or what she was looking at. I finally got beside her and gently touched her on the shoulder to let her know I was there. She finally turned her head toward me as I was peering inside the car.
It was Chad, and he was quite dead. Walking over, I carefully looked in the floorboards to make sure there was nobody else. Satisfied, I reached into the car and turned the ignition off. The engine died painfully, whereas Chad probably never felt a thing.
Just as I suspected, they never brought anything to trade. The only things in there were a lighter and a bong. They had no other plan in mind other than killing Rick and me, and then taking what they wanted. If they had succeeded and had found Julie, well I’m sure it would not have been pleasant. The interior reeked of marijuana. I had no doubt they had gotten high on their drive over here. I guess they needed it for courage.
I straightened. Julie still had the assault rifle pointed at Chad, so I put my hand gently on the barrel and got her to lower it. “Was there anyone else?” She blankly looked at me and shook her head. I looked again at Chad, back at Julie, and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
“Good job girlfriend.” I said with pride.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, a proud grin? A high-five? What I got was Julie suddenly bursting into tears and sobbing uncontrollably. I reached out, took the rifle from her hands and held her as gently as I could. I mean, I had two weapons in my hands at the moment. She cried quite hard for a few minutes. Hard enough where the tears were like waterfalls and snot drooled out of her nose like a freshly turned zombie. I let her cry. I stood there quietly and held her. I guess it was the overwhelming realization that she had just killed a real live human being. She did not know it yet, but she did good.
I was not going to tell her the circumstances. Specifically, I was not going to tell her Chad had never fired a shot. It appeared he was not even armed. In a civilized society her act could be called murder. But I knew it was necessary. He knew where we lived. I could not allow it. However, I did not want Julie to think of herself as a murderer. If she ever asked, I did not know if I was going to fabricate a story or tell her the truth. I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.
After a minute or two, she seemed to gather her senses just a bit and I thought it was over. “Zach, there’s something I have to do.” Her words came out in between sobs.
I let go of her and stood back. “Okay sweetheart, you name it.” She fumbled with her pants, succeeded in pulling them down and then squatted right where she stood. It sounded like a Jersey cow pissing on a flat rock. I stared at her in amazement. She must have been holding it in for hours. She continued, and continued, and continued. And the whole time she was sobbing like a baby.
Chapter 22 - A New Friend
After Julie finished emptying her milk jug sized bladder. She stood up, zipped up, and gave me a harsh stare. “Enough of this bullshit. I want to get my little brother.” I tried to keep a straight face. I mean, the swollen red eyes, the tear streaked cheeks, I was fine with. It actually was endearing. But, she had these two really long snot trails streaming out of both nostrils. They were like, hanging down, but they defied gravity just enough to prevent them from breaking free of her nose. I turned quickly before she saw me smiling and renewed my inspection of the remains of Chad Smith.
“I think we can do that.” I stood there with my hand over my face as if in deep thought, which I sort of was, but I was mostly hiding my stupid grin. I resisted the urge to call her snot face, or something equally juvenile. “What about your mother?” I asked through my fingers.
“The hell with my mother! I want my little brother. He’ll be safer and better off with the two of us.” I think she realized what I was trying hard not to stare at. She untied one of the burlap bags that was around her head and shoulders, and used it to wipe her face before throwing on the ground. I was about to tell her to stop wasting stuff, but stopped myself. Now was not the time.
I shrugged with agreement. “Alright, let’s do it. I’m thinking we should get the service van we have parked up the road. We’ve got to get rid of these bodies first. If we don’t, they’ll attract vermin and zombies. So, we load up the bodies, dump them in the sinkhole, and go get your little brother.”
Julie nodded. “I knew you’d think of a good plan. Let’s get going.” She did not even wait for me to respond, she started purposely walking down the highway. I hurried to catch up and started trying to at least formulate a worthwhile plan. Her mother, Trina, and even Macie might not care much for us to show up and claim Tommy. If we agreed to take them into the fold, it would probably make it easier, but to be quite honest, there was no way in hell I was ever going to accept Trina with open arms. If the two women were really holding Macie hostage, we might actually have to harm them. I had no problem with it, but I knew Julie would not hurt her mother, even if she was presently resenting the hell out of her. It could be a problem, and I wasn’t sure how it would end.
I was still thinking it through when we drove the van back to the bridge. I got out and guided Julie as she backed up to the bodies. I got the rear doors opened and we were about to start loading when I heard a horse whinny. I peered around the van. A cowboy was riding up on a beautiful Appaloosa horse. When I say cowboy, I’m saying he had a cowboy hat, pointy toed boots with stirrups, and a weathered duster. He was an older guy, I’d say around fifty, tall, rawboned and lanky, with a deeply weathered face. He reminded me a bit of Rick. He held a rifle casually across the saddle. It looked like a stainless model of a varmint rifle with a scope attached. I let my hand drift close to my holster and stood close to the rear of the van. I whispered at Julie. “Grab the AR, but don’t point it at him.” As he approached I waved. He responded with a wave, but kept his rifle handy. Even so, it looked promising so far.
He stopped about twenty feet away from the van and casually looked around.
“Howdy.” He said evenly. He gazed at the bodies with no change of his expression.
“Good afternoon.” I said.
“I seem to have come at a bad time.” He said. I shrugged a shoulder. “I heard all the shooting and thought I’d come see if I could help out. Looks like you two took care of it though.” He peered closer. “Were they those infected things?”
“No sir. I’m afraid these were real people.” I said plainly.
He nodded, but offered no comment. “My name’s Fred. Fred McCoy. I live down the highway about a mile or so. I’m looking for my baby brother.”
I walked up and offered my hand. “Zach. Zach Gunderson.” I nodded over my shoulder. “This is Julie Frierson. We’re very pleased to meet you.” He shook with a calloused hand and tipped his hat at Julie. Julie waved, but was warily keeping the rifle handy. “I’m sorry Fred, but we’ve not seen any real people in qu
ite a while. Well, except for these.” I made a sweeping gesture. I tried to explain. “I knew these people previously and I tried to be hospitable. Unfortunately, they had other things in mind.”
He looked up the hill and gestured toward the house. “This is the Parson’s farm. They had a tenant living in the house. Fella by the name of Sam Hughes I believe. Is he around?”
He was testing me. I knew it. I hoped Julie knew it and did not say anything to get this man’s hackles up. We needed friends, not enemies. “Well sir, you are right about the Parsons, but I never heard of a Sam Hughes. My co-worker, Rick Sanders lives here. He’s the foreman for the Parsons. I work for him. When my grandmother died over Thanksgiving, I moved in here with him.” I pointed a thumb at Julie. “Now my girlfriend lives with us. The Parsons were in their winter home in Florida when all of this zombie stuff started happening. I haven’t seen them since.” Ironically, the Parsons’ winter home was in Winterhaven. Honest.
He took in what I said, chewed on it, and slowly nodded. “Is Rick around?”
“Yes sir, he is, but he’s not available at the moment.” I did not explain further and he did not ask.
He gestured toward the bodies. “They’ll need burying. I’ll be glad to give you a hand. We can use that backhoe there.”
“I’d be glad for the help, but we have a bit of a pressing matter at hand.” I motioned at Julie again. “She has a baby brother as well. He’s ten. He is currently in the custody of some people that are tied up with them.” I pointed at the bodies. “These three were a part of that group. Julie believes, and I must agree, that her brother will be better off living with us. We are going to dump these bodies down the road for now. Julie would like to get her brother immediately. Once we have him home safe and sound, I’ll dispose of the bodies properly.”
Zombie Rules Page 18
