by Mark Clodi
The zombie lowered its head to Seth's throat, but was not able to bite him, the damage to its lower jaw was not healed yet. Seth screamed and put his hand against the thing's neck and pushed it backwards, even with this leverage he was only able to move the zombie back an inch or so. The zombie started pushing forward against the boy's arm moving closer and closer, Seth watched as the jaw mended itself together and started opening and closing. Screaming incoherently Seth struggled with the zombie as its teeth clamped down on one side of his neck. It had barely torn a hole in his flesh when a gunshot rang out and it jerked sideways from a clean head shot, the noise was deafening. Steven kicked the body off of Seth and gave the boy a hand up. The truck Seth had been in was still moving forward slowly, apparently unaware that it had lost the passenger in the bed.
“You okay?” Steve asked.
Seth put his hand to his neck and pulled it away, bright red blood glistened on his palm. “Oh fuck, he got me!”
Steve pushed the boy's head over to one side and looked at the bite mark. Behind him the people from his truck were shooting zombies with their shotguns, up ahead the lead truck's brake lights came on and it started backing up. Taking a rag out of his pocket Steve dabbed at Seth's wound and said, “I think you are okay, it looks like he just tore it, and didn't get it infected.”
“But you don't know for sure!”
“No, I don't know for sure. Give it two days. Dora's suburban pulled up beside them, she rolled down the driver's side window and asked, “He get bit?”
“It tore the skin, we don't know what will happen yet.”
Dora looked into the car, frantically trying to find something, she came up with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and tossed it to Steve, who liberally dosed Seth with the liquid. By the time he was done, Dora had bandages to hand to him. When Steve finished binding the wound the other truck had backed up far enough for Bob to ask if Seth was alright.
“No thanks to you, yeah.” Dora replied, “What the hell was that, driving off and leaving him there?”
“I didn't see him get hit, I was trying to get the road clear and saw him in the rear view after Steve hopped out to help.”
“Well he got tagged by the zed. We are not sure if it is infected or not yet. You need to keep a better eye on him.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure Dora, you think I wanted him bit? Why are you so upset about this?”
“Because we have a human shortage and this kid is important, he is going to be riding one of the motorcycles, right?”
“Well, yeah, that is why we brought him.”
“But if we can't even get a motorcycle without him getting killed, how likely do you think the rest of the board is going to be to let him and others his age ride as scouts? They will point at this and say, 'See? The juniors shouldn't be used for this sort of thing', then I will have to fight to use him, and we need him Bob. We really need him.”
Shaking his head in agreement, “You’re right, you’re always right. I’m sorry, I should’ve paid better attention to where Seth was.”
Dora stared at him a moment, as if trying to see if he was just placating her or sincere. Finally she gave him a curt nod and Bob let out a sigh of relief, “Can we get out of here now?” behind the suburban more zombies were falling to shotguns, but the crowd of them was growing faster than they could be killed.
“Yeah, let’s get the buses and get back.” Dora answered. Seth hopped back into the lead vehicle and the caravan got moving again. The rest of the drive to Midwestern Bus Sales was uneventful. The bus lot had models to view out along the highway as well as many others on a lot behind a chain link fence. They had left the slow zombies behind them by a few miles and there did not seem to be any in the vicinity of the bus store. The front window of the sales office was plate glass to allow a couple of buses to be displayed from inside the building, one of the sections of glass had been broken out, with glass both inside and outside the building. The group used the three parking spaces directly in front of this broken out glass and then cautiously dismounted.
Dora got up to the glass first and then turned to Steve and Bob behind her and said, “You feel like someone is watching us?”
“It isn't just me then?” Asked Steve looking at Bob.
Shaking his head Bob said, “No, it isn't. I feel like I am on a stage for an audience of invisible people. I just wish they couldn't see me too.”
“Huh, a good motto, like Jeff kept saying in the video; 'Don't see me, don't see me.' Hey Steve, probably not the time, but I didn't ask earlier, did anyone see Willy last night?”
He shook his head, “No, I think he might have turned, got smart and just misses us.”
A cold, calculating look passed over Dora's face, “We could use a spy among them, that could be useful.”
“Not if they can read each other’s thoughts. It wouldn't work. Plus how could we motivate Willy? Give him a person or two every month as 'pay'?”
“Maybe just common decency? Or maybe he would just take blood instead of killing a person?” Dora stepped across the threshold of the broken window.
“Who is there?” called out a sultry male voice from inside the dealership.
Dora jumped back outside, hitting her head on the top frame of the window and cutting a gash into her scalp.
“Shit. Shit! Damn it! Mary is going to be so pissed at me!”
“I won't hurt you.” came the voice again.
Clamping a hand to the top of her head, Dora said nothing. Steve stepped forward and said, “Who are you?”
“My name is Jake. I won't hurt you. I am not like the others.”
“So you are one of them, one of the dead?”
“I am infected, yes. I never wanted this. I can control my passion. You are safe from me. I can hold some of the others away too. I can smell her blood. Please clean her up.”
Blood was dripping through Dora's fingers and running down her arm, pooling in the jacket at her elbow. “Fucking cut on my head, it had to be the head. I am bleeding like a stuck pig. Ischmel, I mean Ken! Get me some hydrogen peroxide and bandages!”
Turning towards Dora, Steve said, “You better back out of here, go back to the suburban and get cleaned up, let me deal with this.”
Dora shook her head slowly, “Me leader. You grunt. Me handle big, bad Jake.”
“Good leaders, respected leaders, share responsibility with their underlings and know when it is appropriate to do so.”
“Fine.” Dora said with ill grace, she stepped back about five paces towards the front of the suburban.
Ken hurried forward with a bottle, a clean looking rag and some bandages, he moved Dora's hand and soaked her head with the liquid, then pressed the rag to her cut, lifting it slightly he blanched and said, “You're gonna need stitches. No doubt about that. Mary is going to kill us.”
Inside Steve called out, “Okay Jake, what do you want? I got the bleeding woman out of here.” He kept his shotgun aimed in the general direction of where the voice was coming from.
There was a doorway leading to some offices just off the showroom floor, from there a tall, lanky man peeked around the corner. His upper body was barely visible, and it was covered in an army fatigue jacket that looked to be a size too small. The zombie's face was white and withdrawn, giving an impression of loose skin over dry bones. Jake's eye's appeared to be coal black and were seated deep within the sockets, an army helmet made of thick kelvar, covered his head, but a trace of gray hair was visible from the front. The most critical thing about Jake was the massive revolver he held in one hand that was pointed at Steve.
“At this stage in my life, I do not need guns to survive, however I find when dealing with you people it is easier if we start at a level that gives you an illusion of parity. So, you came here, to my place, you answer me first. Who are you and what do you want?”
“My name is Steve, my friends are Bob, Dora and Ken. There are others in the parking lot around the cars.”
“Good Steve, no lies betwee
n us so far. And what do you want?”
“We need two or three buses. I have some living to move out of town and we need something to move them. We looked this place up in the phone book and came over here.”
“Shall we lower our guns now?” asked Jake from behind his rock solid grip on the pistol.
“I am game if you are. You seem...reasonable. Can you give us the buses?”
“Without a doubt Steve, I could give you the buses, but what will you use to pay for them?”
Chapter 34
The two lowered their guns slowly, like they were in some sort of western movie, Steve let the shotgun barrel point downwards and Jake tucked his pistol into a massive holster that was hangin on the right side of his belt.
“I don't suppose you would give us the buses out of the kindness of your heart.”
“Kindness is in short supply these days.”
“That is a nice piece you are toting there, I don't think I have seen a revolver that large before.”
Nodding Jake said, “You probably haven't, it is a Smith and Wesson five hundred. It fires a bullet weighing three hundred and fifty grains, achieving a muzzle velocity of over three thousand feet per second. I'd tell you which store I stole it from, but when I went back there the other two they had were gone. The recoil would have made the gun too much for an old man like me when I was alive, but now? Now shooting it ain't nothing. I'd compliment your shotgun but it looks like a cheap, mass produced gun sold at Wal-mart.”
“It gets the job done.”
“We do have different needs these days don't we?”
“Yes, which brings us back to the subject at hand. We need buses to move our people.”
“What can you give me for them?”
“We could leave you alive?”
Jake sighed, “Threats? Steve, why don't you go have a little pow-wow with your folks in the parking lot. Be sure to go around back of the building first, where you can see first-hand what happened to the last group that came in and tried to make good on that threat. It will be real educational.”
“How about I just take your word for that?”
“How about you go look, and then talk to your people. I am a snag you were not intending to have to deal with. At least you didn't come in shooting. So you must have had some dealing with what the humans call 'super zombies' before.”
“Alright Jake, when we are done, we'll just call out, okay?”
“Suits me fine.”
Steve backed off slowly, with Bob by his side they stopped when they got back to the cars, parked about fifteen feet away.
“We far enough so he can't hear us?” asked Bob.
“Probably not, he probably has super hearing too, but it doesn't matter, we only have to decide if we want to deal with him in good faith or go in guns a blazing.” said Steve.
“Let’s go check out the back, see what he dealt with before.” said Dora, who was leaning up against the lead pickup truck while Ken finished bandaging her wounds.
“Fine. But we are battled hardened, I don’t know any humans who have fought more zombies than us, in fact I don't know of anyone else who has taken down a super zombie. We might be able to take him.”
A moment later Bob, Steve and Dora set off around the side of the building, they were trailed by the unwounded teen a fourteen year old named Becka. Becka's job was to act as a relay between the scout group and the group guarding the vehicles, in case Jake was to attack while they were split up.
“So you think he was telling the truth about keeping the zombies away?” asked Bob.
“We should ask. We should get as much information out of him as possible. Like can he read the minds of the slower zombies? That would be good to know.” said Steve.
“Yeah, like we can trust him.”
“You have trust issues.” Steve said.
“Just because I am paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get me.”
“Let’s just see how this plays...whoa.” Steve stopped speaking as they came around the corner to the back of the bus dealership. Spread out before them were seven cars, some of them had windows broke out by gunfire and most had the tell-tale pock marks of bullet holes, big bullet holes. In front of them, just out of sight from the highway, were four lines of bodies. The youngest was probably nine, the oldest had to be in his sixties or early seventies, Dora counted, there were three rows of eight and a row of five for a grand total of twenty nine corpses. All of them had been shot in the head, some with a large caliber bullet, others with smaller rounds.
“I told ya it would be educational.” said Jake's voice from behind the cars.
Dora reacted before anyone else, her gun was out and pointed in the direction of the voice before the word 'told' escaped Jake's mouth. She held her fire, but just barely. Steve's gun was hardly even lifted up and when he recognized the voice he stopped raising it at all. He did cast a sidelong glance at Bob, raising his eyebrow at Dora. Bob, who had not even raised his gun, shrugged and looked at Jake.
The old man was standing in an open doorway that none of them had gotten around to viewing yet. He leaned casually against the far side and looked them over. “I have no interest in killing you. I am, shall we say, sated, at the present time. I do not need you at all, really.”
“You could have fucking said something, like 'I will meet you back there!' I just about shit my pants goddamn it!” said Dora.
“My apologies.” said Jake, sounding anything but apologetic.
“So if you do not need anything that makes for a bad basis of bargaining. What can we give you?” asked Steve.
“I didn't mean to disrupt your conversation. I said I would give you time to talk and I will, if you still need it.”
Steve looked at Dora who glanced over at him and shook her head slightly.
“What do you want Jake?” asked Dora.
“Well I am all set right now, but I have to be thinking about the future, you understand?”
“Well we could spare this one guy, Tim, if he would be enough to keep you fed, what is he worth? A couple of buses?”
“Really?” asked Jake, surprised.
“Dora!” Steve said, “This is no time to be joking!”
“There is never a time to joke anymore, is there?” Dora said dryly.
“I really don't want a person anyway, they draw zombies like a flame draws moths. And then there would be the upkeep, feeding them, keeping them from freezing. Too much trouble.”
“Well Tim will be disappointed that he is unable to make amends to the community. So what can we do for you?”
“Where are you planning on heading?”
“What is it to you?” Dora countered with suspicion in her voice.
Jake laughed, “Well if this doesn't beat all. I need to know, because I might be willing to sell you the buses on credit, and collect later.”
“How? If we get to where there are other humans, they might not like that too much.”
“I don't think they could stop one man coming through, do you? You have to be heading to Des Moines, I went that way a week ago, other than the cattle yard some local zeds are keeping down here, they’re the only humans around….” Jake looked at them, closely. “So, the herd finally figured out what was going on.”
Dora nodded, “So. Des Moines, yeah let’s say we are heading there, you think we will honor our deal if we make it?”
“Lady, if you want to make it to Des Moines I can get you there. And I believe people are good and honorable, you will make good on any deal we strike, if I get the promise from you, personally.”
“How could you make sure we get there?” Steve asked before Dora could.
“Because I would go with you.”
“We wouldn't bring you into Des Moines!” Dora said.
“No, just to the border, after that you will be on your own. I would look you up later for payment, and who knows I might bring you a trinket or two as well, so you wouldn't feel like the payment was all that harsh.”
“There are other places in town to get the buses.” Steve began.
“Yeah but we’re here now and we could drive away in ten minutes if we make a deal with Jake here.” Dora said.
Jake nodded, “Guaranteed.”
“What will you take as payment?”
“A pint of blood from every man, woman and child who I help get out. Anyone could pay it, so parents could pay for the kids, or you could pay every six weeks until the debt was settled.”
“A pint for a life? That seems like a deal. No one dies?” Dora said.
Jake shrugged, “I am a pacifist at heart.”
Dora pointed to the bodies on the ground, but didn't say anything.
Looking at them Jake shrugged again, “Sometimes I’m not a very good pacifist.”
Dora cocked her head at an angle and stared at Jake, remembering her earlier conversation with Ken in the truck. Jake just stared back and laughed.
“So let’s say I agree with your deal, me and you, I give you a pint per person, that’s for those who actually make it to safety, right?”
“No, I won't go that far, I was up that way a week ago, but they were fighting hard and they might not be there, in fact they may all be dead. I will accept the payment to get you to Des Moines, to whatever you find there. I will go for the pint per person who makes it part of the contract, that suits me just fine, so if I lose a bunch of you, I lose my profits. Deal?”
