I’ll wait and find out as much as I can before I come to a decision. After powering the laptop down, I stuff it back into her bag. So Rudy doesn’t want anything happening to her. Knowing the fucker’s standoffish quirk and attitude against women in general, she must be something special. I can’t wait to find out what it is.
*
Sitting at the bar in the Clap Trap, I’m taking in all the empty cages and beams. It seems Guido is pretty desperate for famished. It’s still warm out, so of course he had Rudy go looking for them. It’s obvious Rudy was in a big bind when he got Kan here. He knows he could have come to me, and I would have helped Kan free of charge. He probably came looking for me here, since he knows I hardly sleep.
The alcohol makes itself known in my bloodstream. The mildew smell of the bar is no longer pronounced. Maybe I’ll catch some good shuteye tonight.
Reece sits beside me, rubbing his tattooed head. A habit I think he does when he’s drunk and wallowing in his past. “Come on. I’ll give you one for free,” he says. There’s a bead in his goatee getting ready to fall out.
“No way. If I wanted a prison tattoo, I’d do it myself.” I doubt I’ll ever willingly put an open wound on my body in a world full of famished. Reece is always trying to give someone a tattoo. He needs a new hobby.
A massive shadow drapes over Reece and I as the squeak of one of the famished cages open. The bitch boys are stuffing one in. A female, and she puts up one hell of a fight. Snarls ensue from her throat, and she’s unaware of her tits bouncing everywhere.
“I see you haven’t lost your touch. Where did you go? A strip club?” I joke at the source of the large shadow.
“Damn, Rudy.” Reece says, eyeing the zombie in contempt, but he brightens and looks back at him. “Think of anything yet?”
“I told you if I ever think of something I want on my body forever, I’ll let you know.” Rudy sits in the stool on the other side of me, his body tense, but he shakes his head, watching the zombie with a hint of disdain. Rings circle his eyes as if he’s lost sleep. “You should see the one he wanted up there.” He jerks his chin up to the loft overlooking the Trap where Guido spends most of his time doing whatever he does.
I screw my nose in revulsion. “I’ll pass.”
“I have to go, but I wanted to talk to you first.”
This might be interesting. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with your newfound taste in women, would it?”
Reece raises the bushes he calls eyebrows and leans in to hear the answer. Rudy’s jaw clenches, but he realizes it and goes for neutral. “It’s not like that.”
Trying not to look surprised or happy about it, I say, “Where did she come from?” I almost curse myself because he looks at me sharply, already knowing I looked through her stuff by that one question. I should have worded it differently, but something flashes in his eyes. He’s worried about this one. I pick up my moonshine to sip on it.
“I don’t know. She crashed an SUV near the base. She was going right in the middle of the dead zone.”
Surprise causes moonshine to go down the wrong pipe and up my nose. The burn waters my eyes, and I cough until I can speak again, “What fucking for?”
“Same thing as me. She has someone there. I have a couple of rounds in the ring, so we’ll be here for a few weeks at most. Says she’ll help me get into the base, and Guido’s rounding up a few guys, too.”
This all makes a lot of sense. He’s paying for it, but at least he won’t be going by himself anymore, but for some reason, I want to go on the death mission, too. He continues, “I need a favor.”
Even if I want to, I can’t. “You know I can’t go.”
“That’s not what I need.” When I glance at him, he’s staring at me as if he can convey what he wants though ESP. I almost laugh, but his features sharpen. He’s serious. Deadly so, and I already know I’ll do what I can. “I need you to keep Kan under wraps.”
It’s what I expected. “Already figured I should look into her more before coming to any decisions. But why would you care?”
“Because she has no problems wanting to help. I believe she thinks she owes me. She has some conclusive theories.” He glances at the dance floor filled with drunken bodies. “She can hold her own. Even when sick and dizzy and riding piggy back, she fought the famished.” He looks back at me with that intense stare he has. “We were a split second from being trampled by them.”
“What?” Reece says at the same time I say, “Piggy back? Really?” I’m a tad envious, but at least I know what it is now. They connected during the heat of battle.
Rudy smirks at us while tightening his bandana. The one he doesn’t normally wear. “Not something I’ll forget anytime soon. Kind of badass, but she doesn’t know much almost like she’s been… hiding and somehow a loved one ended up at the base in the dead zon—” He cuts off, catching sight of something across the warehouse. Smacking the bar, he rumbles, “Time to go.”
Reece and I follow his line of sight and laugh as he strides to the side door of the Trap.
“Hey! When’s your next fight?”
“Day after tomorrow,” he throws over his shoulder.
He looks back at me, saluting with a tipped smile. Poor guy is always running away from women. Looking back at the redheaded hooker who scowls at the slamming door, I don’t blame him a bit.
*
Then…
Climbing into my car, the radio gave me the same news as the Sarge. Right then, the big cities were in states of emergency with everyone being told to stay in their homes. From the look of it, there’s nothing anyone could do. If Jaclyn would have had cable, we’d have found out a whopping eighty-one percent of the country was sick.
I didn’t know it yet, but my commanding officer was dead within twenty-four hours of our conversation. Everyone died, because they did the exact same thing as I did. Instead of following strict orders, I went to my mom’s house. I still have dreams about everything I saw on the way, but I never stopped to help anyone. According to the Sarge, anyone sick or bitten was considered dangerous. He was extra interested in Jaclyn’s symptoms, but I didn’t really know or pay attention since she said it was normal.
The car still sat in the driveway. I held my firearm up when I noticed the driver’s side door was slick and shiny with blood, and the garage door wide open. My mom’s wooden table was turned over, but it looked like a struggle and not something she did for the project itself. I reached a shaking hand to turn the doorknob of the house. When I opened it, blood covered the hallway walls. A handprint stuck out to me, and my eyes burned as they took in the kitchen. More blood streaked the floors with footprints. Even on the spot I had found her curled into a ball the day we got the call.
I strained to hear anything going on further into the house. From the voicemail message, I knew I needed to see the bedroom. I had to know.
Upon investigating, all I found was more gore and no bodies—meaning she probably left the house on foot—as one of them. My throat wanted to close in on itself as I dropped my arms to my sides still gripping the pistol. I swept the room with my gaze, landing on a folded flag in a glass case. Backing out of the room, I swallowed repeatedly. A ringing started in my ears as I walked down the stairs before a high keening sound came from the top. I turned in time to see a man stumble down the stairs, taking me with him. We turned over twice before we landed. Teeth snapped in front of my face as I held him back to shoot him. The aim was a little off and I got him right in the face as blood and thicker things stuck to the wall and my arms.
I jumped up and ran to the sink as my body trembled and scrubbed my skin clean, watching the frantic movements of my own hand under the water. When I was done, I leaned against the counter. There was only one thing to do. Report for duty.
*
Now…
I walk in Guido’s loft without knocking not bothering to look around at his appalling abode. He shoots me an irritated glare, but my eyes go directly to Mago sitting on the c
ouch—a stark contrast against the light color of it. That’s right, he’s here for a put on show. I would apologize for interrupting, but I’m not sorry. It’s not like they were doing anything important. Guido’s rolling his cigarettes.
I ignore Mago. Even though I don’t want to say what I have to say in front of him, I do anyway. “You’re getting some guys up for Rudy?”
Guido nods, “Yeah. So? Purty gorilla payin’ for it.”
“Count me in.”
“Why? Who gonna git me my shit? No good to me dead. And all those peeps goin’ might as well be dead now. Unless yew want to bring back gorilla boy as a dead ‘em, I know he got ta have—”
“You’re a sordid human being.” I spit, cutting him off before he says what I think he’s going to say. Rudy already hit the jackpot in the—I’m a huge motherfucker—gene lottery. I don’t want to think about the bastard’s—my junk’s so heavy I always have to reposition it—problems. A smile stretches across Guido’s face as if he likes people thinking he’s disgusting. “Doesn’t matter what happens to me, I’m replaceable.”
“I don’t think so, we gots somethin’ special yew and me.” Guido glances at Mago. “Yew gonna bring back Mac boy as a dead ‘em?”
Sitting back against the couch, Mago steeples his fingers with dark, dangerous eyes. “I condone your idiosyncrasies. Not revel in them.”
I laugh because I’m right there with him. Guido turns back to me, “Fine, but I need some supplies before yew leave and another fight from purty boy.”
“No more fights.” I glare at him, daring him to argue with me.
He doesn’t, knowing he has what he has because of me. “All good,” he mumbles, returning his attention back to his cigarettes.
Suppressing a comeback, I turn and leave. The door doesn’t close behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see Mago standing on the landing. The door closes and he speaks, “You know what you’re doing?”
“Yes, and I don’t need you speaking a word to anyone. It would be good to have your help.”
“It’s not time.”
“Not going to stop these people from getting killed.”
“You can stop them,” he says.
“No, but I can prolong it.”
*
When I make it to the Trap, Rudy is already there taking shots of moonshine before his fight. “You throwing this one?”
Smiling, he shakes his head. “If I was, I wouldn’t tell you.” He’s right. The last time he fought, he let Isaac kick the crap out of him, but it was because of the deal he made with Guido.
“Kan wake up?”
Rudy shifts in his seat and situates his package discreetly. “Yeah, but she’s not coming.”
I snort, “Right.” And I let it go when I see Guido walking towards us. “Good luck, man. I didn’t bet on your ass this time.”
He answers by taking his shot before I walk away. I’m heading toward the hallway to leave when the outside door opens. Glinda walks in and she laughs with Kan.
Kan says something to her and Glinda gives her a look. I scoot up against the wall to watch them and absently pick glue from my fingers, an unfortunate result of making arrows. She turns her attention to the warehouse with wide eyes, taking everything in. Walking to the bar, she grips her pistol crossbow as if she might have to use it any minute. Glinda grabs her, pulling her away from where they stand. Glinda hands her a shot that looks to be tequila from the color. She takes it easily and keeps looking around. They laugh at something being said. The sound carries to my ears even over the music.
I notice when Kan spots Rudy because she freezes and steps back as if she doesn’t want him to see her. Candy walks up to Rudy as I smirk at how he tenses up. She rubs him and Kan watches curiously. She looks away and takes in the assorted famished littered throughout the warehouse.
The DJ announces the fight and the patrons scream the announcement with him. A barely-there top catches my attention. It’s a small tank top and huge tits are poking out the sides and over the top. Peaches, the source of the slutty top and every single bout of crab rumors, strolls up and smiles at me.
“Why don’t you leave something for the imagination?” I snap and send a scowl her way. My reputation holds up as she walks away, muttering something I’ve heard before. Why can’t they come up with something original so I can at least laugh? I look back to Kan, but she is gone. I bump myself from the wall in pursuit.
I find them watching in the back. I go back and forth between the fight and Kan. It’s just as entertaining watching Kan like she has never seen such things. According to Rudy, maybe she hasn’t. The crowd cheers on and off and at one point Kan chews her finger.
The announcer claims Rudy is the winner. His face is a little bloody, but he’s holding onto a rib. I’ll have to check him out to make sure he hasn’t injured it too badly. I look back in time to see Kan being pulled away by a nasty sort of fellow I’ve never talked to but know his name is Gary. It’s my job to know everyone’s names. Following them to the dance floor, he’s groping her when she turns and swings her fist, knocking him a good one. She shakes her hand out as he falls back to the floor with no one catching him. People laugh and continue dancing around him. I almost laugh at the indignant look on the pervert’s face, but stop when I realize Rudy’s right. She can hold her own.
Tapping him in the shoulder with my boot, I tell him, “Get the hell out here!” Gary jumps up and runs off, leaving behind a trail of body odor.
She stares at me and I smile. Looking stunned, she gives me a half smile in return causing me to wonder if she remembers our conversation. I melt into the crowd as I hear Glinda telling her they needed to leave. Glinda the good witch my ass, more like Glinda the Wicked Hooker of the West. She hates me and with good reason.
*
Then….
When I opened the garage door to leave the house, I had a huge problem causing my blood pressure to spike and more adrenaline kicked me into high gear. More of them were piling into the garage. The one in front moved its veiny arm in the way just as I was smashing the door closed using all my weight. The thing groaned, but I kept pushing as thick blood dripped down the doorframe. A crack came from his arm, but the door was getting harder to keep in position. The sheer number was overwhelming my strength.
I dropped back and took off for the stairs, remembering where my mom’s car was parked. Bodies fell through the door landing on the floor in the place I just vacated. I heard them groaning and shuffling around as I made it into a standing position. Entering the front bedroom, I slammed the door closed just as I heard them on the stairs. I pushed some furniture to keep them out longer and looked out the window. Dozens of them were walking down the street to surround the house. The gunshot must have drawn them.
Opening the window, I climb out and maneuver myself along the ledge to the rain gutter before jumping and landing with a loud metal thud on top of the car. The impact caused my knees to jar my nerve endings, but it didn’t last long. After checking out the situation, the majority of the growing crowd was inside the garage. Gripping my gun, I shot the nearest ones so I could make it to my car. After hopping in, I stared out at the scene before me, knowing it was only going to get worse.
*
I was so screwed, but I didn’t care. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I gulped it in rapid succession. I had a few days to get my shit together, but I doubted that would happen. I hadn’t slept in days, maybe for a few minutes at a time, but it didn’t matter. I accepted a position on an ongoing field mission, meaning I’d be dead soon.
People watched movies and read books about this sort of thing. I always laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. There would be extreme emphasis on military jargon and weaponry or all the important people are safe, but no one else. Most of the time media and literature gave way too much power on politics or scientific explanations. Secondary characters honor bound to defend their country, but who didn’t seemingly give a shit about their dead loved ones when only the mai
n characters were able to save theirs or show emotional pitfalls when they couldn’t. Bullshit.
In reality, there were revolutionist strategically placing this shit and now sitting back and laughing at the superb job they’d done. Nothing was safe. No one was safe. Anything and anyone that could help was already gone. They were the first to go. While everyone else scrambled to adapt and change because there was no going back. That was not to say there weren’t people who wanted it, because there were. Of course, they were living in a fantasy.
A knock sounded at my door, but I didn’t care. I stayed in place on my couch. My roommate answered the door. I forgot his name, but we hated each other. He was assigned to pick up trash. Yep. Trash. These were the majority of the remaining people and it had only been less than a week since the outbreak.
“Thank god. That asshole is drinking again. Give him a blowjob or something,” he said to our visitor.
I lifted my head above the couch to see Carrie push him out of the way in a storm of auburn hairs coming out of her short ponytail. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that, garbage man!” Roomie slammed the door and took off down the hall.
She shot me a grateful look as she sat down beside me on the rundown couch. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. Think you can get him a new housing placement?”
“I’m working on it, but they’ll just replace him and the grass isn’t always greener and all that. People are coming in everyday though.”
“Has to be greener than that brown, crunchy fucker.”
She laughed, a sound I hadn’t heard very often as of late. “Hang in there. It’s not like you’ll be here a lot…” Trailing off, her face went pensive.
Darlings of Decay Page 92