Earth's Survivors Box Set [Books 1-7]

by Wendell G. Sweet

  "He left yesterday morning at about 8:15 AM. He's not come back since, I'd know," Marion said. “His girlfriend left last week... Didn't come back.”

  Of course you would know, you nosy bitch, Fred thought to himself. Jesus. He was missing Sports Center. "Well, honey what do you plan to do... I thought he was a drug dealer? I thought you didn't like him," Fred said. “But here you are looking out for his house for him.”

  "He is. I don't, but you have to keep track of things like this. Don't you watch TV at all?" she asked.

  "Sometimes,” Fred answered, his eyes slid once more to the television.

  "I know, Freddie. I know what you think," she said and nodded.

  "I don't think anything," Fred said. He sipped at his drink and wished he had made it a double. "Marion, honey, how do you know they're not friends of his?" Fred asked.

  "Well, Freddy do friends knock on the door and then use a key? No. Friends that have a key just put it in the lock and go in, don't they, Freddy?" she asked.

  "I would knock, Marion. Especially since my friend's a drug dealer. Maybe he's come back early, see? Maybe if I just walk in and he's all hyped up on those drugs he sells-they always use it themselves, see I watch TV too, Marion-But let's say he's all hyped up and shoots me even though he's a friend: You can't trust a junkie," Fred said solemnly.

  "You think he's a Junkie?" Marion asked seriously.

  Fred sipped at his drink. "Of course. All those drug dealers are. Did you not see that movie with what's-his-name? We watched it. He was a cop and he got hooked... Nearly ruined his life. It's the way it goes. You got to taste that stuff to make sure you don't get ripped off, right? Bang! You're hooked. Monkey on your back and all that stuff, Marion. They're all junkies eventually," Fred said. “Plus the girl could be the girlfriend come back.”

  "I never thought of it like that," she said. "I guess I'd knock too, but he's not usually gone this long that he would give someone the key," she said. “And the girl doesn't look quite right...” She turned and squinted out the window. “Not dressed right.” She sighed. “It's too far away to tell.”

  "Sure, but if you're going for a while you don't want people to know it. You don't want the mail or the papers to pile up, see? Then the other junkies will probably stop by to rob you. So, you have your girlfriend stop by. Pick up the mail, feed the dog."

  "He doesn't have a dog, Freddie," Marion said.

  "Okay, water the plants... Whatever... You just want to keep the other junkies away. I mean they'll know and come around and rob him. And then probably take over his spot," Fred said.

  "You think he has a spot?" Marion asked.

  "Honey, Marion, they all do. They all have a spot. Usually one they took from someone else. It's how they sell. The take their stuff there. The other drug users and junkies know about it. They come to buy... They call it copping... I thought you knew all of this from TV, Marion?" Fred asked.

  "I do. I do," Marion said. "I just didn't realize all of that was going on over there. Maybe I should call the police," She said.

  "And say what?" Freddie asked. "I think this? I think that? No, better to let it take care of itself. It always does, Marion."

  "You think?" she asked.

  "I think so... Now why don't you come over here and we'll sit and watch the Sports Center for a while... OK? You know I like to hear all the college scores from yesterday," Freddy said.

  Marion took one last look out the window and then came over and sat down next to her husband.

  Ben Neo's House

  Billy Jingo

  April went through each room opening doors as she went.

  "Fingerprints," Billy said. "You know they will come here."

  "Should have bought gloves," April said.

  "I didn't know we'd be doing a B and E," Billy said.

  "We had a key," April said. "That's not a B and E."

  "Dead people can't give permission," Billy said.

  "Ben wouldn't have minded," April said and tried a smile on her face.

  "Famous last words spoken too," Billy said. "What are we looking for?"

  They had come into a bedroom and April chose a pair of socks from a drawer and slipped them on her hands. Billy did the same.

  "This will work?" Billy asked.

  She nodded. "I saw it in a movie. Remind me to wipe down those door knobs." She searched through the drawers and came up with two guns and another $15,000 in cash in a thick white envelope. "See?" she said.

  Billy went back and checked the other rooms, wiping the doorknobs as he went. They met back in the kitchen and searched it together. Billy opened the refrigerator and then quickly slammed the door.

  "What?" April asked. She walked over to him.

  "Fuck... It's a body... One that just happens to be missing a head and hands," Billy said.

  He wiped off the handle of the refrigerator. They both stopped. She looked at him.

  "What?" he asked.

  "What else was in there?" she asked.

  "A fuckin' body! Christ, isn't that enough?" Billy asked.

  "We should check it is all," April said.

  "For what? To make sure it's the same dude? Make sure he's missing..."

  "Don't say it," April said. … … "Is he missing it?"

  "I didn't see," Billy said.

  "You're going to have to," April said. "... Money. Guns... Drugs. I don't know, but we have to check," she said after a pause.

  "Yeah? It's your turn, you know. And don't say it isn't," Billy said.

  "Yeah? Well just so you know looking at dead guys with missing parts might just put me right off sex for a while," April said.

  Billy stared at her, his mouth open. "Fuck! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" He said loudly. He crossed back to the refrigerator and pulled the door open a little too fast, rocking the refrigerator. The door flew open and the body that had been wedged into it fell out onto the floor with a stiff clunk.

  April stifled a scream. "Look at what you did," she managed at last.

  "Well I didn't mean to," Billy answered. He made himself look into the refrigerator. All the shelves had been removed so that the body would fit. There was a puddle of blood in the bottom of the fridge but nothing else. "All that and there's nothing in here in all," Billy said.

  "He has a wallet," April said, pointing.

  Billy looked. A light colored leather bulge that protruded from his back pocket. He reached down carefully and pulled free the wallet which was gummed together with blood. "Jesus, April," Billy complained. "Why do we have to look inside everything?" he complained.

  "You never know," she said.

  "Never know what?" Billy asked. "What is it you never know?"

  "See," April said. "You don't know because you never took the time to find out. See what I mean? You'll never know."

  Billy stared at her for a few minutes. "I have no clue what the fuck you just said was all about even," he said.

  "Exactly," April said.

  Billy shook his head, pried the wallet open to look inside. Money, ID, a few credit cards, all of it stuck together with blood. He showed her.

  "It washes off," April said.

  He stared at her, "You're serious?"

  She came, took the wallet, pulled out the ID and money, searching through the rest of the stuff. She walked to the sink, turned on the water and began to rinse the two credit cards and driver's license: When she finished she rinsed off the money too. Billy watched the pink water run down the drain. He walked over and picked up a driver's license. It was the head from the duffel bag. "This is him," Billy said. "Carlos Sanchez," he read from the license.

  "Yeah, he looked a little better when his head wasn't in a duffel bag," April said.

  "You're so cold," Billy said.

  "I'm not cold. Just truthful. What else can I say? He looks better without a body? His neck was too long anyway? It's a shame, he just lost his head? He's in no shape to critique me anyway that's for sure," she said.

  "Can we go now?" Billy asked.r />
  "You gotta put him back into the fridge," April said. "We have another twelve hundred bucks by the way."

  "How much does that make?" Billy asked.

  "I don't know, we haven't counted it all yet, remember?" April asked. "Like a gazillion or so, I guess."

  Billy bent, picked up the body, and carried it back to the fridge, but no matter how he twisted and shoved it he couldn't get it back in. "You'll have to help me," he told her.

  "If I do I'll get blood all over me like you," April said.

  "Well, blood washes off," Billy said.

  "Smart ass," April said. "I'll take his legs stick them in and then the rest should be easy," she said. She grabbed his legs and swung them into the bottom of the refrigerator, then helped as Billy shoved the rest of the body in and slammed the door.

  They were both smeared with blood.

  "We have to get this blood cleaned up off the floor," April said. "I'm going up to get cleaned up. You clean it up and then get yourself cleaned up... He has clothes upstairs that will fit you," April said. She was slightly out of breath.

  "This was a bad idea," Billy said.

  "Not really," April said.

  "No, it really was, April. What did we accomplish?" Billy asked.

  "We know who the dead guy is... We know nobody else is here... We got another twelve hundred bucks... Billy, I Gotta get this shit off me... It's creeping me out," she said. The pleading was in her voice.

  "Okay... Go on... I'll clean this up, bag it all, then I'll be up," Billy said.

  Marion

  "Ha," Marion said.

  Fred knew the Ha was designed to get him to ask what. Even knowing that he asked anyway.

  "What?" Fred asked.

  "They're leaving," Marion said. "But they changed clothes. She has on a man's clothes... Like a bad girl... Looks like a thug girl. Like you see on those videos our grand kids watch. You know?"

  "Honey. She's a drug dealer's girlfriend, if it is her, and it probably is... She probably is one of those thug girls. Let me see," Fred got up and came to the window. He tilted his edge of the blinds and peeked out. "Oh yeah. She's a thug... I see them all the time. They dress that way," Fred told her.

  "Yeah?" Marion asked.

  "No doubt. She was probably dressed that way when she went in. You probably didn't notice," Fred said.

  "I noticed. I'm sure she wasn't... They bought out garbage bags... Probably drugs," Marion said switching gears.

  "Probably," Fred agreed... "It's a shame how they just do what they want to do in broad daylight."

  "Yes it is," Marion agreed. "Well there they go. That's that. Nothing we can do now," Marion said. She sighed deeply as she moved away from the window and let the blind fall shut.

  Fred followed her back to the television. "Cheer up," he said. "I'm sure someone will stop by later on. Give you something to do."

  "You think I've become a busybody?" she accused.

  "No, I don't. I think you're bored is all," Fred told her.

  "Well... Sometimes... How you feeling?" she asked. She came over next to him and then rested one hand on his thigh. He looked up to see a smile playing across her lips.

  Watertown

  Sammy and Don

  "Oh yeah, it's a match," Don said. He showed Sammy the two thumbprints.

  "But I thought we wouldn't know until Monday afternoon at the earliest?" Sammy said.

  "Technically, officially we won't. I just suspected it was the kid. He did time so I pulled his card. The prints match, but I'm not a qualified expert, so we have to wait officially until they give us the word on Monday," Don said.

  "So we still can't do anything this weekend?" Sammy said.

  "Might give us a little leverage," Don said. He walked across the garage and returned the fingerprint to a tech.

  "Got our guy?" the tech asked.

  "A strong possibility," Don said. "Very strong. I'd like you to keep that between us... Chain of custody... Don't wanna fuck with that shit," Don said.

  "Hell no," the tech said. "That would be my ass." He walked away and then came back. "Same print on the trunk lid too... Glad it helped... It did help, right?" he asked.

  "It did," Don said in a low voice. "And thanks."

  "So now we know why he needed the keys, to check the trunk," Sammy said.

  Don nodded... "Want to go rattle his cage a little?" he asked.

  "I do. And I'm wondering why our witness didn't see him do it?" Sammy said.

  "Easy," Don said. "The car was out of sight at the back of the trailer."

  "Probably," Sammy agreed. "But I want to hear her say that. What was her name anyway, Ali... Amy... Something like that."

  "April," Don supplied before Sammy could look it up in his notebook. "Yeah, April like the month. Why does someone name their daughter something like that? Or Brandy, or Misty, you just know every guy in school is gonna be banging her," Don said.

  "Banging the shit right out of her," Sammy agreed. They both laughed.

  "Let's go," Don said. They headed out of the garage into the late afternoon sunlight. It was early fall and even with the strong sunlight there wasn't a lot of warmth in the air.

  “I fucking hate this weather,” Sammy said.

  “Be fall soon," Don said. He unlocked the car: Leaned across to unlock the passenger side; started the car and pulled out of the lot.

  Rochester New York

  Billy Jingo

  They drove over to the West side of the city. April followed as Billy searched for an abandoned piece of property. The problem wasn't finding one, the problem was finding one that wasn't already being used by drug dealers or that had a place to pull behind it. He found one by an abandoned apartment house on a side street and pulled behind it. April pulled in behind him.

  "This makes the trailer park looked like high class," she said.

  "We better hurry before we attract a crowd," Billy said. They transferred everything to the Jeep in just a few minutes, and then Billy used a screwdriver to take the plates off the truck. He emptied the glove box and behind the seat, then used a hammer to smash one corner out of the windshield and a pair of pliers along with a screwdriver to remove the VIN plate.

  He had no doubt the truck would be gone ten minutes after they were gone, but once it did turn up, if it ever did, it would be hard to trace without the VIN plate. There were other areas, motor, frame, but usually no tow yard was going to go through the trouble of checking. They'd tow it in and store it in the yard and eventually auction it off. Even then it would probably go for parts so there would be no need to find the VIN and run it through DMV.

  Most likely one of the several pairs of eye's watching them would steal it and keep it for themselves. He left the key in the switch: As they were leaving three guys were walking down the block toward the house. Or at least it seemed that way to Billy. They stopped and flipped off the Jeep as they rode by them, then they ran down to the house: Before they had turned off the block Billy saw the nose of the truck poke out of the driveway.

  "Better get us away quicker, April. Make a few fast turns. Those guys might chase us with our own truck," Billy said.

  April took the next left then a right and another quick left and they popped out on Genesee Street. Billy looked, but he didn't see his truck anywhere.

  "Looks good," he managed before something hit them from behind. He nearly broke his neck getting turned around only to see it was his own truck with the three guys driving.

  "Can you drive this hard?" Billy asked. "If not we're going to have to find a way to switch."

  April dropped the drive letter into low and floored the Jeep. She shot around a line of traffic swerving out into the oncoming lanes, then skidded into a hard left and shot down a side street. Instead of slowing she kept the Commander floored and ran the next several blocks flat out. Checking in mirrors as she left the truck behind.

  She slowed just enough to make a slight curve and then sped up again. She locked up the brakes halfway down the
block to make a fast right. She drove hard for the next three blocks, and then made a left. The truck was nowhere in sight, but she made another fast right before she slowed down.

  She cursed under her breath. It was a dead end street, mostly abandoned properties. She got the Jeep turned around and headed back. Halfway down the block Billy's truck shot across the mouth of the street, and she could hear the tires scream as the driver locked up the brakes. She made the next intersection and headed back the way they had come.

  She floored the truck again and blew by a half dozen two way stop sign intersections that bisected the street they were traveling on. She finally locked up the brakes again and slid the Jeep into a left and they were coming up on Genesee Street once more.

  April skirted a small line of cars waiting at the red light and slid out into the street, tires smoking.

  She punched the gas hard and got the Jeep two streets down before she turned again and shot up two blocks and then made a right onto a side street.

  "Christ," Billy said as she flew by a stopped dump truck and he heard something scrape down the entire passenger side of the Jeep. "You're gonna get us killed!"

  "Those guys are gonna get us killed," she said as behind her the pickup truck swung out around the dump truck and then sideswiped a car parked nearby before the driver got it straightened out again.

  They were driving into one of the more run down areas and she made a quick left and then another quick left trying to lose them on the short, narrow streets. Billy reached forward and pulled one of the flat black 9 MM guns from the glove box, flipped off the safety and laid it on the seat top. He looked at April who snatched it up and dropped it into her lap.

  Billy took a second gun out and got it ready.

  "Fuck," April said. "Dead end! Dead end again!"

  "Fuck it, get it turned around," Billy yelled.

  April floored it, jumped the curb and tore up the front yard of the house before turning around. She came back down onto the street, slammed the gearshift into park and jumped out of the Jeep.

  "What the fuck are you doing?" Billy Screamed. He jumped out of the truck. He could hear his own truck, engine screaming as it came. April stopped and then raised the pistol. Billy stared at her incredulously for second and then lifted his own gun.