Curtis shifted nervously from foot to foot, staring at the back entrance of the hotel, where Monica and Bette were saying emotional farewells to Rosie, Guadalupe, and Juan’s four children. It bothered him how accepting Monica’s family was of her relationship with Bette. His scowl deepened as Rosie gave Bette a hug.
Finishing their good-byes, the two women started across the former construction site in Curtis’s direction. Bette was dressed in army fatigues; Monica wore hunting clothes, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. To his disgust, they were holding hands. As they climbed the stairs, he took a breath and stepped in front of them. Bette’s face registered surprise, but Monica just looked annoyed.
“Monica, I would like a moment of your time,” he said calmly, trying very hard not to glare at Bette.
“I don’t know, Curtis,” she said.
“It’s okay, hon. You take care of this,” Bette said, giving Monica’s hand a squeeze before heading into the paddock.
Monica put her hands on her hips. “What is it?”
“Look, I … uh … know I fucked up … somehow … you know … with you,” he sputtered, trying to remember his well-rehearsed speech.
“Curtis, we were just fuck buddies,” Monica answered tersely.
He winced, then plunged on. “You’re going out on a dangerous mission. You could die. I don’t want, you know, bad blood between us.”
Monica folded her arms over the breasts he had loved to touch. She looked away from him, then said, “Okay, that’s true. Look, I just wasn’t clear enough with you, but I thought you understood. That I needed you to relieve all that stress, that it was just sex.”
Curtis felt his temper rising and knew his face was getting red. He closed his fists and tried not to scream at her that she was a dirty whore. “Monica, I love you,” he managed to say through clenched teeth.
She took a deep breath and exhaled very slowly. “Curtis, I’m sorry. I just don’t feel that way about you.”
“I know I did something wrong. But I’m young, and if you just gave me some time—”
“Curtis, I wasn’t looking for a relationship when I was with you. I wasn’t looking for one with Bette, either, it just happened. I’ve never been with a girl before, but I love her. I’m sorry that it hurts you. But if we could be friends and let our past go, Curtis, that would make me so happy. I really don’t want bad blood between us.”
Hurtful, angry words danced on the tip of his tongue. Forcing a smile, he said, instead, “Friendship is good.” Even as he spoke, he imagined the women together, naked and sweating, touching and kissing each other. He wanted so badly to hurt them, he felt the desire as a pain in his gut. “I can live with friendship.”
For the first time in weeks, Monica smiled at him. “Thank you, Curtis.”
He kissed her awkwardly on the cheek, tasting her skin, hating her as much as he loved her.
Monica moved on, toward the woman who now got to touch her breasts and the other places Curtis had considered his. Fury rose in him.
“Hey, Curtis, ready to go?” Greta asked from behind him.
He started, his sheepish grin wiping away the tension in his young, handsome face. “Sure. Yeah. I’m ready.”
“Great! Let’s go zombie hunting.”
* * *
“You die out there, I’ll kick your ass,” Lenore told Ken firmly.
“Do it now,” he said, presenting his rear.
She gave him her sternest look. “You shouldn’t go without me.”
Dale, tattooed and intense, stood nearby. “I’ll take care of your boyfriend.”
“I’m her girlfriend,” Ken said, putting on his best flaming gay routine.
Lenore growled. Finally, reluctantly, she hugged him. “Take care, you crazy faggot.”
“Will and can do! Dale will protect me, won’t you?”
Dale just grunted and donned his sunglasses.
“I love it when he does that,” Ken whispered to Lenore.
“He’s straight,” Lenore chided him softly.
“For now!” Ken then heaved his rifle over one shoulder and jauntily strode over to Dale. “Let’s be off, my good man.”
“I’m gonna punch him,” Dale said with a grin.
Lenore snorted. “Get in line.”
* * *
“I think I have this memorized now,” Katarina said, scanning the map and the notes from their briefing. She looked nervous, but her hands were steady.
“You better. That’s our asses.” Bill heaved himself up into the fancy Durango and adjusted the seat. What was he thinking, running off to lead a zombie parade? He wasn’t sure whether he was brave or a damn fool.
Katarina shut the passenger door. “We’ll be safe, I promise. Just do what I say.”
“Oh, God, is this what our marriage will be like?” he said jokingly.
She laughed, smacking his arm.
Ahead of them, Bette and Monica shared a kiss. Behind them, Ken was tapping out some obscure song on the Durango’s horn.
Dale leaned out of the truck and shouted, “Lesbians kissing, oh yeah! A good day to die!”
At a signal from Juan, the gates began to open.
“Here we go.” Bill gripped the steering wheel, trying not to let his nerves get the better of him.
“I wonder what twenty thousand zombies looks like,” Katarina said.
“Dunno, honey,” Bill answered. “But we’re gonna find out.”
2.
Facing Death
The helicopter flew low over the three Durangos as the SUVs sped down an old farm road. Taking advantage of the fall of humanity, crabgrass spread tendrils across the unused road, and weeds poked through the asphalt. Weather ate away at the structures along the way as foliage rose up and shrouded them in leafy robes.
Curtis despaired. How easily humankind was being erased from the face of the earth.
Beneath the helicopter, one by one, the Durangos came to a stop at their designated crossroads. Ken and Dale were the first to pull over. A few miles later, Bill and Katarina’s truck came to a stop. Bette and Monica continued on, heading to the location Kevin had decided would be the best spot to first intercept the zombies.
“Almost there,” Greta’s voice said in Curtis’s headset.
Shifting in his seat, Curtis gazed ahead, but saw no sign of the mobs of undead. “I don’t see anything. Do you, Ed?”
“Nothing yet,” came the answer. Ed was perched on the opposite side of the helicopter, scanning the terrain below.
Kevin sat in the back of the helicopter, flipping through papers on a clipboard—their plans. Curtis resented him to no end. Kevin was not one of them—he was an interloper. He was even arrogant enough to insist on flying out to run strategy from the air.
Curtis watched the Durango as it raced along the road below. Monica was down there with that slut, Bette. Whatever happened now, she deserved it. He’d hoped that she would see the light, that she’d realize he was the one for her. The Southern Baptists had it right. Two women together was not natural.
“Bette,” Kevin’s voice said in Curtis’s headset.
“I’m here,” Bette answered.
Kevin hesitated, then said, “You’re nearing your rendezvous point. Good luck.”
“Roger that,” Bette answered.
Curtis watched the Durango. The windows of the SUV rolled down and the two women stuck out their hands to wave and give the thumbs-up.
* * *
Bette closed her window and drove on with a savage grin on her face. “Let’s do this!”
“Woot!” Monica shouted, closing her own window.
“Scared?” Bette asked, reaching for Monica’s hand without taking her eyes off the road.
“Shitless.”
“Me, too. I swear my insides are quivering.”
Monica pushed up the brim of her beat-up cowboy hat and exhaled slowly. “I think my stomach exploded.”
“You didn’t have to come. I got this gig because I’m a badass so
ldier,” Bette said, her tone light and playful despite the dire situation.
Monica rolled her eyes. “Where you go, I go. I’m a badass, too, you know.”
Tears flashed into Bette’s eyes as she pressed a kiss to Monica’s knuckles. “I’m lucky to be with you.”
“Let’s hope your luck keeps up. We need it. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“You’ll be happy to know I always won in Vegas.”
Monica smiled at the woman she loved. “In more ways than one, I bet.”
“Slow down right now,” Kevin said through the CB radio tucked into the dashboard, his voice surprisingly calm. “They’re not where they’re supposed to be.”
Bette immediately pressed on the brake. The Durango crested the top of the hill, and both women gasped.
Shuffling toward them was a multitude of undead. The walking corpses filled the road and spilled over into the countryside. They slogged relentlessly forward with mindless determination.
The plan had been to wait at the crossroad until the undead came into view, then lure them onto the side road and draw as many away as possible. If the zombies headed west, they would eventually hit the desert, where hopefully the elements would destroy them.
Now that plan might not be possible. The vanguard of the zombie horde had already reached the intersection that was supposed to be the first rendezvous point.
“Take a breath,” Bette said, and Monica exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath. “We can do this.”
Monica lifted the CB’s mouthpiece to her lips. “Bette says we can do this.”
After a minute, which seemed more like an hour, Kevin’s voice said, “Proceed with caution.”
“I feel like Thelma and Louise,” Monica grumbled.
“We’ll have a happy ending,” Bette promised, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
Bette shifted gears and floored the Durango, sending it speeding down the hill. When the zombies became aware of the vehicle, they raised their arms almost in unison and moaned loudly.
“We’re going to have to slow down to make the curve,” Bette said. “Don’t freak.”
“Okay.” Monica gulped. Usually she was racing away from the mangled creatures, not toward them.
Bette decelerated only enough to keep control of the vehicle. A wall of gray, mottled creatures rose up before them like a nightmare. A few of the undead lashed out at the Durango, their rotting hands leaving smears of gunk on the windows.
Monica let out another gasp as the Durango slammed through a small knot of the undead, sending the creatures flying in all directions. Bette fought to stay in control of the car, her expression grim.
The Durango sped past the cluster of zombies at the intersection. Bette lifted her foot lightly off the accelerator, keeping the truck just in front of the pursuing dead. Twisting around in her seat, Monica looked back at the creatures.
“They’re following!” she shouted, both scared and jubilant.
3.
Running with the Dead
“Runners!” Greta’s voice was so sharp and loud in their headsets that Curtis yelped.
Kevin scrambled to the window and looked down at the swiftly moving zombies pursuing the Durango. “Shit! Where the hell did they come from?”
“They’re gaining fast,” Curtis cried out.
“Ed.” Kevin’s tone held a silent order.
“Got it,” Ed answered.
The older man double-checked his harness, then slid the door open. Wind buffeted everyone; Kevin pressed his clipboard tightly to his chest. Flipping off the safety on his rifle, Ed took aim as Greta flew lower so he could get a good shot.
“What do I do?” Bette’s voice crackled over the radio. They could also hear Monica screaming, “Runners! Runners!”
“Go! Go! Go!” Kevin ordered. “Gun it!”
Below them, the runners were racing alongside the Durango, smashing their hands against the SUV, howling with hunger. There were at least thirty of them.
The Durango accelerated.
* * *
Monica fought down her growing panic, but her hands kept shaking. She twisted around in her seat to look out the back window. The runners were keeping pace on the winding road. Bette couldn’t speed up much without increasing the possibility that the car would flip on a turn.
A disgusting, bloody figure ran along the passenger-side door. The entire lower half of its face had been torn away and its gaping maw was the stuff of nightmares. Its head suddenly exploded and it fell, tumbling along the roadside and landing in a bush.
“They’re shooting them from the helicopter,” Monica said, feeling the knot in her chest loosen.
Bette nodded once, concentrating on her driving while keeping a diligent eye on the throng behind them. As the Durango entered a long, slowly arcing curve, Bette’s eyes widened as a large portion of the zombies ran straight through the field, ignoring the road.
“They’re going to cut us off,” Bette said anxiously.
The helicopter zoomed as low as possible over the zombies in the field. Monica wasn’t sure how many were knocked over by powerful blasts from the rotors and how many were taken out by sniper shots from above, but quite a few of the zombies fell into the deep grass, disappearing from view. The less-damaged ones kept racing toward the road.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Bette’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel. The first of the runners reached the road in front of the Durango and charged at them.
Monica grabbed the handhold over the door and braced herself.
The Durango slammed into the zombies and lurched sickeningly to one side as something caught in one of the wheel wells. The undead were tossed away from the front of the truck like chaff in the wind. Some darted out of the way but then leaped onto the side of the SUV, hooking their gnarled fingers around the luggage rack.
Monica screamed as one snarled at her through the window, pounding his free hand against the glass.
The banging of bloodied fists against the windows and doors was terrifying. The zombie outside Monica’s window was getting more and more agitated, his blows growing in strength. Monica took a deep breath, raised her gun, flicked off the safety, and placed her finger on the button that controlled the window.
“Babe,” Bette said, “what are you doing?”
“I got it,” Monica assured her, pushing the button.
As the glass slid down, she shoved the gun through the gap and fired point-blank into the zombie’s face. The zombie tumbled away into the ditch. Having forgotten that the window would fully roll down if she didn’t stop it, Monica panicked as it continued to scroll. Gray, bloodied, shredded arms thrust through the open window.
* * *
Curtis watched in fascinated horror as one zombie tried to climb into the Durango. The SUV swerved abruptly and went airborne for a long moment before it crashed into the field. It slid across the ground, shedding zombies as it went, then hit something hidden in the wild grass and flipped over. It tumbled a few times before coming to a stop, zombie free, but a mangled wreck.
“Dammit,” Greta grunted. She swung the helicopter around, aiming for the runners pursuing the fallen vehicle.
“Look for survivors!” Kevin ordered.
The zombies were closing in on the Durango. The helicopter buzzed low, and both Kevin and Ed fired.
Curtis saw the two women scramble out of the ruined SUV and begin running away from the zombies. Monica’s face was smeared with blood, and Bette was holding her arm at an odd angle. He started to speak, but his voice caught in his throat.
“There they are!” Ed shouted.
Greta tried to move in for a rescue as four runners darted toward the women.
With looks of terror on their faces, Monica and Bette darted into the tree line.
“Don’t lose them!” Kevin ordered.
Curtis leaned out the open door, looking for the women. The wind buffeted him as he tried to see beneath the tree canopy. Beside
him, Ed swore up a storm.
“I don’t see them,” Greta said, her voice stricken.
“Keep looking,” Kevin answered.
The helicopter hovered over the forest as zombies continued streaming into the trees. Suddenly Curtis caught sight of Monica and Bette in a small clearing. They had climbed into the loft of a broken-down tin and wood barn. The women huddled under the partially collapsed roof. They were trapped. The first runners had reached the clearing and were looking around, with hawklike movements, for their prey. The women curled against each other, trying to keep out of view of the zombies; that made them hard to spot from the air. Curtis could barely glimpse them between the tree branches, especially in their green-colored clothing.
“Does anyone see them?” Kevin’s voice was strained. The helicopter slowly drifted away from the barn. Zombies clustered in the clearing. It probably wouldn’t take long for them to bring down the building and rip Bette and Monica apart.
“Anyone see them?” Kevin’s persistence ate away at Curtis’s resolve to stay silent.
“Nothing,” Greta answered dismally.
“I ain’t got ’em,” Ed answered. “No sign.”
Curtis wanted Bette gone, but not Monica. Then again, Bette had corrupted Monica, hadn’t she? They were lesbian whores. Sinners. Just like Mary had said.
“Curtis, do you see them?”
Curtis opened his mouth, hesitated, then said, “No, no, I don’t.”
“The zombies see something!” Greta shouted abruptly. She pulled the stick to the left and banked around. “They see something!”
Kevin appeared beside Curtis. The zombies in the clearing banged on the barn, which shook under their assault. A pale hand darted out from beneath the overhang and waved at the helicopter; then a frightened, bloodied face peeked up at them.
“We got them!”
“Curtis, get on the hoist and lower the harness. Greta, move closer.” Kevin’s voice was clipped.
As The World Dies Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 90
