He had several more pending cases, but they’d been interrupted by the zombie outbreak. Not that it mattered. Marquell had found his freedom regardless of legal status. But it was that freedom which now smacked him square in the face as he and Mary stared at each other in the darkness, crickets chirping loudly and mosquitoes buzzing around them. Marquell had never left Chicago, much less ventured to the countryside, and he was totally out of his element. It didn’t help that The Blair Witch Project kept popping up in his mind.
The two quietly walked along the road for a few minutes before Mary mustered the courage to speak. “Not that I’m complaining, but why did you come for me?”
“Russ said I’d be harder to see in the dark. I guess the moron was right for once,” Marquell said with his infectious grin. The truth of the matter was he had no idea why he volunteered to rescue her, just that he hadn’t hesitated. Maybe he wanted to wear a white hat for once. Or possibly, like Trent, he was searching for some piece of atonement for his past misdeeds. There were plenty of them to choose from.
“You didn’t say why, though.”
“Don’t know,” Marquell answered honestly.
She accepted the answer and moved on. “What about the other women?”
“They went to find help for the guy that got shot. Trent, my… associate.” Marquell dared not call him a friend, although he had grown to respect him in some measure over the past few days. “The brunette girl didn’t make it. Sorry.”
“Yeah, I saw. She was a great friend.” Mary changed the subject to avoid breaking down. “Are they coming back to get us?”
Marquell stopped walking. “I’m not sure. They said they would.” The doubt in Marquell’s answer was obvious. He had no real expectation the others would come for them as promised, and he was seriously questioning the decision that put him in the current predicament.
It was his turn to change the subject. “My name’s Marquell, by the way.” The hardened criminal was trying his best to talk in a manner he pictured as “civilized,” but it came off more like he was nervous. And with the unfamiliar noises of the nearby forest calling out, he was.
“Mary.”
“That was my Mom’s name.” Marquell stopped walking.
“Oh, that’s—”
“I killed her.”
Mary apprehensively sucked air in through her teeth. “Umm, okay.” She always had a knack for creating awkward conversations, but this one took the cake. Why two men in a row had decided to tell her their childhood secrets was also a mystery.
“I killed her,” Marquell repeated, much quieter this time. Then he collapsed in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably like he never had before. So many emotions, so much baggage, with only one direction for it all to come out. He couldn’t stop, and Mary, never one for profound conversations, was thrown for a loop. So she did what came naturally, and got down in the dirt with her new friend, holding the sobbing man close.
Comforted by the gesture, Marquell launched into a laundry list of horrible details from his life. There were the people he killed, the people he tortured, the ones whose lives he had ruined both before and after the apocalypse, and those he had just plain shit on. Drug dealers, foster families, social workers, and random strangers had all felt his wrath in one form or another. Tale after gruesome tale drove this point home in explicit detail.
Mary soaked it all in while trying to formulate a response. It took her a while, but that was okay, because Marquell had plenty to tell.
“Maybe you had no choice? I mean, would you have done any of that stuff if you grew up in Naperville with a mom named Tiffany and a dad that worked at the power plant?”
Marquell shrugged. “I don’t know, but I doubt it. You’re talking the motherfuckin’ classical nature versus nurture argument? I have pondered that shit before. Believe me.”
“I have no clue what that means, but I doubt it too,” Mary said. “There’s a nice person inside you, or else you wouldn’t have come to save me. That took guts, and heart. You risked your life for a nobody.”
“No, you’re a somebody.” Marquell wiped the last tear from his eye and stood up. “You’ve made it a lot farther than millions of other people in our situation. Soldiers, politicians, scientists… they’re all dead, but you made it.”
“So have you.”
Marquell nodded and sniffled one final time. He no longer questioned his decision. “Let’s go. Maybe they’ll pick us up. If not, we’ll find someplace safe for when the sun comes up. Can’t risk being tired and out in the open.” He helped her up and then turned to walk off. “And don’t tell anyone about my little breakdown here or I’ll have to kill you.”
He was joking. Sort of. But after hearing some of the things Marquell was capable of, Mary had already decided to stay firmly on his tiny good side. She wasn’t so dumb after all.
He swatted at a mosquito. “Motherfuckin’ bugs. I mean, damned bugs. Trent was right, I need to stop saying that so much. My vocabulary, my demeanor, I think a lot of it’s just been a costume of sorts to survive. To play the part, you look the part. Can’t be soft behind bars, you know? But I’ve been wearing it so long I don’t know where the costume ends and the real me begins. I’m almost scared to find out.”
Marquell’s continuing insights were deep and travelled far above Mary’s head for the most part. But she smiled and nodded in agreement just the same. She was beginning to like him very much, warts and all.
Maybe it was a rebirth of sorts, or the stress of his screwed-up life in general, or the fact that he had finally made himself vulnerable for once, but something downright electric was jolting through Marquell’s body. And it was glorious. He breathed in the country air, truly taking it in for once, and exhaled. The tight muscles in his powerful shoulders relaxed slightly as the weight of several lifetimes blew away in the night air.
Headlights appeared in the distance, and the two ducked behind the nearest car as a precaution. A semi approached at high speed, and its unique paint job was hard not to recognize. So Marquell and Mary stepped into the road while the truck came to a loud stop, its driver having applied the Jake brake with abandon.
The doors swung open and Russ hopped out casually while the women ran to their friend. “Nice hat, you big pimp,” he said with a wink. “Don’t look so surprised, bro. I said we’d come back for you.”
Jackie and Padma showered Mary with hugs and then Jackie hustled her into the cab before any more unexpected problems could arise.
Marquell adjusted his new cap. “Not my typical style, but it’s pretty dope. And the previous owner won’t be needing it anymore.” He looked at Padma. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
She nodded. “It was amazing. Russ just walked in and got the stuff. The cannibals ignored him completely. Even better, I had Trent stabilized a few hours later.”
“I told you, I’m like a zombie Chuck Norris,” Russ said with a grin that made him look somewhat insane. “Or a redneck samurai. Yeah, I like that better.”
“You mean dead-neck,” Padma said, barely containing a smile. She was actually enjoying her verbal sparring with Russ on a limited scale, but unfortunately her opportunity to do so was decidedly unlimited.
Russ tilted his head at the attractive doctor. “She wants the D. I know it.”
“Is Trent gonna make it, then?” Marquell asked, unable to hide the fact that he was starting to care. Why? He hadn’t figured that out yet. The cop had been a pain in his ass the past few days, was obviously a racist, and had very few redeeming qualities. Then again, Marquell wasn’t much of a peach either.
“It’s touch and go,” Padma said. “He has a chance since I stopped the bleeding and removed both bullets. But if an infection sets in…”
Drawn by Russ’s gratuitously loud braking, zombies began wandering in from every surrounding area, and it became necessary to head out in a hurry. Marquell climbed inside the crowded semi as Russ pulled away, leaving the trail of ravenous monsters in his wake.
/> The hillbilly cracked open a freshly looted but rather expired beer and tossed one to his new partner in crime. “Trent’s in the back resting, so we’re gonna have to decide where to go without him. We have about sixty miles of fuel, give or take.”
“Will it be enough to reach that airport I told you about?” Marquell asked and took a drink. The beer was skunky and warm as piss, but after the past few days it was much appreciated.
“I was kinda wantin’ to go fishing, but your idea’s probably better. Let’s go with that.”
“Punch it then,” Marquell said and took another drink. Then he tipped forward and snored loudly as he fell asleep in an instant, spilling his beer.
Russ leaned over and grabbed the can, nearly driving off the road before finishing it himself. “Party foul, alcohol abuse.”
Chapter 18: Oasis
Food poisoning. It’s a pretty common occurrence in most apocalyptic scenarios, whether it be in the aftermath of a meteor strike, financial ruin, sex-bot uprising or, in this case, a dreaded zombie and military invasion combo. Food poisoning is also just as likely to kill you as anything else in the heretofore-mentioned catastrophe.
Charlie was finding this out the hard way as he struggled to keep pace while becoming more dehydrated by the minute. Sam had told him not to eat apples off the ground, but Rob had convinced him otherwise. Of course, the big guy seemed just fine while Charlie wanted to die. “Man, I need some water. And thank God we brought toilet paper,” he said while holding his stomach.
“Eat one of those spiky plants over there, it’s what they call a succulent and should quench your thirst,” Smokey replied, once again trying to prove how in touch with nature he was.
“Succulent? Wasn’t that your nickname in high school?”
Charlie’s eyes flashed daggers at him. “Shut it, Left-Nut.” His head was pounding and he was in no mood for Left-Nut’s mouth. He went over and began to chew on the aloe vera-looking plant. It was bitter and slimy, but it would do until they found a stream. “And we have to ration our water better next time,” Charlie said while choking the plant down. “We went through our supply way too fast. Rob, I’m looking mostly in your direction.”
“No fair. I’m a big boy, I gotta drink a lot.”
“At least on this old country road we’re making some good time now,” Smokey said. “With the Koreans scouting ahead we’re bound to find water soon.” Following the gravel road west from the Maniac house had been a solid decision so far, and they had covered more ground in the past few hours than the rest of the day combined. At this rate, so long as no Chinese patrols were in the area, they would reach Cantonville in several days. If Charlie could stop pooping every five minutes.
Pong, the younger of the Koreans, came walking back towards the group in an excited state. After Left-Nut bungled the translation horribly, Pong was able to convince everyone to hurry their pace by using hand gestures and high-pitched noises.
Soon the road took them around a bend in the forest where they caught up with Ping, now doing recon while hiding in some bushes. Ahead they saw a large compound surrounded by recreational vehicles with a fading billboard out front.
Sam read the sign aloud: “Crazy Pat’s R.V. World. Prices so low, they’re crazy.”
Ping crawled out from his spot and held up two fingers, then made a walking motion with them.
Charlie was still not thinking clearly because of his condition, and was starting to get reckless. “Okay, so there’s just two people here. I think. We might as well introduce ourselves with the numbers we have. We need water, better directions, and if we could get one of those R.V.s… well, that would be tits.”
“Not good idea,” Vlad said. “No element of surprise.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Charlie said. He pointed to the Koreans. “They still have some bullets left and can keep us covered.”
“Not coming with to get shot. Good luck,” Vlad said and found a nice spot in the shade. “How you say, amateur hour?”
Charlie shrugged. “Katya and Sam, stay in the back and everybody fan out. Don’t provoke these guys, but don’t take any shit either. They have more than enough to share the wealth.”
Ready for bear, they marched through a small gap in the cyclone barbed wire, then spread out with Charlie in the lead as he walked towards a run-down trailer. A man and a woman sat outside on a wooden deck, enjoying the mild weather with some iced tea and carrot cake.
“Hello there,” Charlie said as he approached with his arms up in a gesture of peace. “Lovely day we’re having,” he added while his stomach gurgled and took a turn for the worse. Charlie stopped walking and gritted his teeth momentarily until the pain passed. It did, but he was liable to shit his pants at any moment, and that would do little to help him negotiate.
“Sure is. But I bet you’re not here to pontificate about the weather though, now are you?” The mobile home salesman was in his mid-fifties with a silver comb-over and a beer belly. He was sharp, straight to the point, and keen on making a sale. Which was not going to happen that day.
“No, sir,” Charlie said. “Not exactly.”
“I take it you’re here to shop for mobile homes then? That’s good. That’s real good, because I’ve got a lot of top-end models here at rock-bottom prices. They don’t call me Crazy—”
“How rock bottom are we talking?” Charlie asked and grimaced as the knot in his gut twisted again.
Crazy Pat’s demeanor went south in a hurry as he looked to his female companion. “Hell, I think we got some more freeloaders here.” He looked back to Charlie as the others in the group slowly drew closer. “I’ll make this nice and simple. If you got fifty thousand dollars cash money, we can do business. Can’t let you take one of my babies off the lot for less than that. As you can guess, these aren’t exactly being produced anymore.”
“That’s horse—”
“It is the supreme law of the business jungle, supply and demand,” Pat said, rather pleased with himself. “You have to pay to play my friend.”
Charlie looked closer at the man’s wheelchair-bound companion, and it became apparent that the term “crazy” on the sign was a rare bit of truth in advertising. The woman was covered in makeup, flawlessly gorgeous, and entirely made of synthetic materials. She was a high-priced sex doll.
Of course, Left-Nut noticed this as well and came up right next to Charlie in a hurry. “Hot damn, you got yourself the Maserati of bang dolls right there. Is that an x-class or are my eyes deceiving me?”
Crazy Pat was plainly agitated. “Now you watch your smart mouth. Cassandra is a classy lady, and I won’t have you disparaging her.”
“Shut it,” Charlie said to Left-Nut and then addressed Pat once more. “Look, while we chat, is there any fresh water we could fill up with? We haven’t come across any in a while and we’re awful thirsty. We do have women and children with us.” His stomach gurgled so loudly that Pat could hear it all the way on the porch.
“No freebies around here. There’s a lake about two miles down the road.” He looked to the doll. “What’s that, sweetheart?” Then he nodded at Left-Nut. “She doesn’t like the way Whitey there’s looking at her. So I’m gonna ask you to kindly leave. Unless we can do some business after all?”
For whatever reason Left-Nut was feeling bold, and took a step towards the salesman. “How about we just take one of those shiny new R.V.s with us?” Licking his lips, Left-Nut didn’t take his eyes off the doll as he continued, “Even better, why don’t I take little Cassandra there on a trip to pound town?” He winked at the doll. “What do you think about that, classy lady? Up for a ride on the baloney pony?” It might have been the first time a doll had been threatened during the commission of an attempted armed robbery. Thankfully, those types of statistics were no longer kept in post-governmental America.
Pat calmly whispered something to his pseudo-girlfriend, raised a pistol he had concealed behind his table, and cocked the hammer back. “Make a move and Powder the
re dies first. Feeling froggy?”
Charlie was about to intervene in the tense standoff, but then shut his mouth as a light bulb went off. Could this be it? The moment Left-Nut had finally mouthed off to the wrong person? The moment he would die a painful death because of said mouth running? Charlie held his breath – and his stomach – and hoped so.
Cautiously, Vladimir opened the front door of the mobile home from inside and emerged directly behind Crazy Pat. He held his knife to the man’s throat. “Negotiations have taken turn in our favor, yes?”
But Pat played it cool. “Not from my perspective. You could kill me, but that won’t get you want you want. No, nothing but fifty thousand dollars will do that.” He whispered again to his doll, “Close your eyes honey, I don’t want you to see this.”
Vlad laughed. “I guess we find out.”
“You see, first you’ll have to find the keys that I’ve buried in the forest. Then you’ll have to find one of the batteries hidden in a different spot. After that, you’ll need to travel twenty miles to town just to haul some fuel back.”
Vlad removed the knife from the man’s throat and Crazy Pat nodded. “Glad you came to your… hey what are you doing?” Vlad had stepped away from Pat only to put the knife against the doll’s supple neck instead.
“Negotiations open once more,” Vlad said dryly.
Once calm and collected, Crazy Pat was now about to crack. The love of his life, albeit a weird and non-reciprocating one, faced certain decapitation and possibly worse if Left-Nut had his way.
Charlie watched and waited, ready to give the signal for his Korean allies to shoot. If it happened to come after a certain somebody got gunned down, well, all the better. But Katya ruined his plan in an instant, stepping in front of Left-Nut and entering the line of fire. “This is getting out of control and we are better than this. No one has to get hurt.”
Dead Drunk II: Dawn of the Deadbeats (Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time Book 2) Page 14
