Valley of Death, Zombie Trailer Park

by William Bebb

CHAPTER 14

  A Dying Dog & Jeremiah's Exit

  Billy sat hunched in a small ball of misery. He held the dog's head in his lap crying softly as he petted him.

  Reaching into the backpack, he pulled out the last water bottle. After pouring a little into the palm of his hand he held it to the dog’s mouth.

  “Come on, boy, you can do it. Just try a lick or two. You'll be okay. Come on, just lick my hand,” he said softly.

  Boris was on his side with his tongue partly visible through his mostly closed mouth, but he wouldn't drink.

  Billy held the water in his palm until the dog whined softly and fell asleep. He gently patted the dog’s mouth with the water trying to at least get his tongue wet.

  There was no shade on the exposed rocky path and the sun was making the boy uncomfortable, but he wouldn't leave the dog. He knew the snake had killed his new friend and couldn't think of anything else to do as he softly stroked Boris. “Oh Boris, I'm so sorry. We should have stayed back at the trailer. If we'd stayed there you wouldn't have died out here,” he said resting his head onto the dog's furry chest.

  Feeling the slow rise and fall as the dog still breathed and the slow thumping of his heart, the boy waited for death to come as the morning wore on.

  How long they stayed like that Billy had no idea, but after some time he heard something behind him coming up the path they'd used. He grabbed his BB rifle and pumped it up as powerful as it could get.

  I don't care what happens to me anymore. Maybe I should just let them get us. Does it really matter? He thought, heartbroken and exhausted.

  When the large limping zombie came around a corner of the trail, Billy decided he'd rather go down fighting. He pulled the trigger as he felt Boris moving less and less in his lap. “Leave us alone, you bastards!” He yelled while firing through eyes stinging with tears.

  Josey heard Billy’s loud voice a split second before something blasted apart most of his right ear.

  He dropped the sword, slapped his hand over his bloody ear remnants, and jumped up and down screaming, “Ow! Damnmotherfucking! Shit! Ah fuuuck!” Josey bellowed and swore while holding a hand clamped over the remains of his bloody ear, before yelling, “Damn it, Billy! It's me, Josey, don't shoot!”

  Billy dropped the rifle, ran to the big man, and hugged him tight. He cried and tried to talk but was impossible to understand.

  Finally, Josey had to shake the boy to get his attention. “Okay, time out! Take a deep breath and count to five, kid. And you don't need to be that upset over my ear. I was actually thinking of getting it pierced someday anyway.”

  Billy nodded, took a deep breath and counted to ten just to be on the safe side. Then he looked back where Boris was and said, “I wasn't crying about your ear. It's Boris. A snake bit him and now he's going to die. And it’s all my fault. He was a good dog and I got him killed.” When he finished speaking, the boy snuffled before turning and hurrying back to kneel beside the dog.

  Josey picked up the sword and limped forward until he saw the mangled remains of the long snake and the seemingly dead dog nearby. “Billy, are you okay? Did it bite you?”

  “I wish it had. Boris is dead, and it’s all my fault.”

  Josey leaned down and felt the dog still breathing. “He's a tough dog, he's no quitter,” he said as distant gunshots could be heard coming from the park entrance nearly a mile away. “Help me pick him up. Someone’s come at last. If we hurry we can get Boris a vet and get our asses out of here to boot,” Josey said.

  Billy helped lift up Boris.

  Josey cradled the dog against his chest with his left arm and carried the sword in his right hand.

  After putting the water bottle in his backpack and picking up his rifle, Billy gave Josey a perplexed look.

  They'd only been walking about a minute (slowly and very carefully) back down the steep rocky path when Josey saw the kid again looking at him suspiciously.

  Between his aching knee, the stab wounds on his thigh and back, what little remained of his bloody torn ear, the heat, and the odd looks Josey got steadily angrier as they walked. “What the Hell is wrong with you, kid? Why do you keep staring at me like that?”

  “Why are you dressed up like a Nazi?”