by N. C. Reed
Like it or not we had to go back through town to get home, so we brainstormed as we made our way through traffic. Nothing came to mind though, and we had a chicken house to assemble and a puppy to play with and zombies to watch for so we headed home.
Connie took care of the playing with the puppy while I assembled the chicken house. Since the yard was fenced we could release the chickens to roam free so long as we watched the dog. As they pecked their way across the yard I realized that the chickens would serve to help keep down the tick and flea population as well, an added benefit that I hadn't considered. Not a bad add-on to the eggs and meat angle I thought.
Once all that was finished it was starting to head into late afternoon and I admit I was getting hungry.
“You want to go out?” I asked Connie as we finally managed to herd the last of the chickens into the small enclosure. Water and feed were waiting for them inside so it wasn't that difficult, really.
“You think we should?” she asked, still playing with the puppy.
“What are you going to call him?” I asked instead of answering. “He needs a name.”
“I don't know,” she admitted, looking at him again. “Choc? Count Chocula?” I laughed aloud at that as she grinned sheepishly.
“Better than Boo Berry,” I told her, and that got a laugh from her. “I don't know. He's rambunctious, that's for sure,” I added as the pup squirmed in her arms, trying to turn where he could lick her. I knew how he felt. (If I wasn't going to hell before, I am now).
“Ram,” she nodded firmly. “Short for rambunctious. I like it. A good strong name for our protector,” she cooed at him and was rewarded with a bunch of sloppy kisses. I sighed. Oh to be a dog.
“Well, Ram it is,” I nodded. “As to going out, there's no reason we can't if you want to. We were supposed to have a date tonight after all,” I added.
“Okay,” she nodded. “I'd like to. No way to know how many more chances we might have and I admit I was looking forward to it,” she gave me a bright smile that would have melted iron. I wasn't going to make it. Just was not. Going. To make it.
“Well, let me get cleaned up. We can get 'Ram' settled in the garage for now and then head out.”
“I don't want him to live in the garage,” Connie frowned.
“I didn't say he'd live there,” I held up my hands in self-defense. “Just stay there while we're out. He's not house-broken or anything so he'd make a mess. He can stay inside with us if he wants. Don't forget he's used to being outside.” She nodded, mollified. I didn't figure he'd want to be separated from her for long, anyway. And I knew exactly how he felt, too.
I went inside and ran through the shower. Connie did the same and while she was getting ready I made 'Ram' comfortable on a bed we'd gotten him at Tractor Supply, showing him a puppy pad that I knew he'd never use. I fixed him a bowl of water and then put a can of meaty puppy food in the other bowl we'd gotten for him. He gobbled it down as if he hadn't eaten since he'd been weaned. Growing dog and all that, I guess.
Before he was finished Connie was there with us, laughing at his grunting sounds while he ate. He was a cute little thing. I knew he'd grow pretty quick with good food and care, but for now he was just about the size of a teddy bear and cuter.
Leaving him there we headed out on our 'date'. Connie suggested using her car but after what we'd seen in town that day I shook my head. I had taken Big Baby out of storage to use in times like this. No sense not using her. Connie grumbled slightly at having to climb up the ladder but better safe than sorry. And getting to help her climb aboard was a treat all in itself.
Hey, you take life's pleasures where you find them, man.
CHAPTER SEVEN
We rolled into town just at sundown. Yes, I know how that sounds but I'd already written it down. Anyway, town had calmed some but it really was still a madhouse. It seemed that several stores were completely sold out of most everything already judging by the signs in several store windows. It was also possible that those owners were simply saving whatever was left for their own families and if they were I didn't blame them.
But you could bet that others would.
“I don't know about this, Drake,” Connie's voice broke into my thoughts. “I thought maybe things would have settled down by now,” she admitted.
“So did I,” I agreed. “If places are already running out of stuff then people are going to start going nutty soon.”
“I thought of that,” she nodded absently. “I just wish I had thought of it before we left the house.”
“Well, we can always go back,” I shrugged. “Up to you. We can order a pizza if you want and take it home. Watch a movie or something.” She grinned at me when I said 'or something', but I swear I meant play cards or a board game, 'something' like that. I swear I did. Cross my heart.
“Okay,” she nodded. “Since we're here, we might see about getting a better supply of dog food,” she suggested. “I only got a little bit since I wasn't sure we'd even get him.”
“Works for me,” I nodded. “Call. . .Papa John's?” I asked. She nodded and took out her cell phone. She punched in the number while I drove. After almost a minute I noticed that she wasn't speaking and glanced at her. She was frowning, looking at her phone.
“I don't have a signal?” she looked and sounded puzzled and for good reason. Right here in town there should have been a signal with no problem. I took my phone and handed it to her.
“Try mine.” She took it and looked at the screen then shook her head.
“Nothing.” A little icy tingle went up my spine at that. There was no reason at all for us not to have a signal. Jammed circuits I could understand and even expect considering what we'd heard on the television earlier. But no signal? No, that was wrong.
“What do we do?” she asked, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was.
“We'll stop, order the pizza, get the dog food, go pick up the pizza, and go home,” I said firmly. She nodded but said nothing. Wasn't really anything to say, anyway.
We rolled up to the pizza place and I have to admit I was surprised to see it open. Rather than go inside I pulled around to the pickup window. The girl at the window looked wide-eyed at the sight of Big Baby and cautiously opened the window.
“Hi,” I smiled trying to put her at ease. “We tried to call an order in but couldn't get a signal,” I held up my phone. “Can I place an order and then come pick it up after I run an errand?”
“Sure,” she nodded, blond ponytail waving as she did. Her name tag said her name was Heather and I figured she was about sixteen or seventeen maybe, but nowadays it was hard to tell. For all I knew she was twenty-five. Regardless, she took our order. We decided to get more than one since it really was looking like getting more might be a problem. I paid in advance and told her to keep the change, maybe four dollars. I thought that might help make sure that our pizza got done as soon as possible. She smiled brightly at the 'tip' and promised our pizza would be ready in about thirty minutes.
“We're really busy tonight to be honest,” she admitted. “Even for Saturday.”
“I understand,” I told her and I really did. Connie and I weren't the only people having what might be our last slice of civilization. We left Heather to make our pizza while we headed back to get the dog food. We had some better luck since it seemed no one was worried about getting any farm supplies at the moment. We bought maybe three hundred pounds of dog food and a good supply of treats. The bill was hefty to say the least but assuming the worse happened, Ram would eat. If it didn't happen I wouldn't have to buy dog food for a good while. Win-win, right?
It took maybe twenty-five minutes to get there, get the stuff and get loaded. I noticed right at the last minute three five gallon gas cans and added them to the till. When we left I went straight back to the Co-op where, as I suspected, there was no line for the pumps. Their fuel is always a bit higher than most places. Once more I filled Baby and then the three new cans. Another fifteen gall
ons of gas for the end of the world.
Connie stayed in the truck while I worked the pump, keeping watch. It seemed ridiculous but things were already out of hand and they could only get worse. I hurried as much as I could and was glad to get back into the truck. I was starting to think we should have stayed at home.
It was a silent ride back to Papa John's and Heather to get the pizza. Heather remembered us and smiled again as she passed three pizzas and two boxes of bread sticks through the window. As I took the last box I glanced over her shoulder as the door opened in their lobby and a very shady looking individual walked inside. Tall, too skinny with a head that was all but shaved, tattoos that had never been done in a legitimate tattoo place and looking about as jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
If this guy wasn't a meth-head I'd eat Baby's bumper.
“Call 911,” I told Connie softly, never taking my eyes off Methie.
“What?”
“Call 911, right now,” I repeated. “This guy's about to rob them.”
“Drake, there's still no signal,” she reminded me. Shit. Shit shit shit! I pulled Baby forward far enough to get the door open and stopped again.
“What are you doing?” Connie asked.
“I can't let him kill that kid,” I told her flatly. “He's wired to the gills, Connie. Keep trying to get a signal and get your pistol out.” I opened the door and started to climb down but Connie grabbed my arm. I turned, expecting some kind of opposition or argument, but instead she had moved to the middle of the seat and suddenly kissed me soundly, right on the mouth.
Okay, I have to stop here and admit to you that this was not how I envisioned that happening. Not here in the friggin' Papa John's parking lot. Know what I mean? That being said it was glorious. Ab-so-fucking-lutely glorious. I could lie and say that I was so surprised that I froze, but it would be a lie. Well okay I did sort of freeze for just a second, but then I did what any red blooded American boy would have done in that same situation.
I kissed her back. Soundly.
After what seemed like days she pulled away, face flushed and breathing hard.
“You come back,” was all she said. Still slightly stunned, I nodded dumbly and got out. What was I getting out for? I suddenly couldn't remember what I'd been about to. . .oh, robbery. Meth-head. Got it. I drew my pistol, holding it down beside my leg as I walked to the door. I got there just as Methie pulled a revolver from his pants and pointed it at Heather. Cute girl Heather, and polite. No way I could let this happen.
She saw me in the door and I raised my hand, palm down, then acted as if I was pushing something down. Get down. I hoped she got it.
She got it. Heather hit the floor in a flash as I opened the door. The door that had a damn bell on it to announce that a customer had entered the store. Which I would have known had I got out of the truck to order the damn pizza.
Methie whirled around at the sound of the bell since it was right above the door behind him. Seeing the revolver coming my way I didn't hesitate. I'm not a cop so I didn't have to yell 'halt' or 'freeze' or any of that cop-shit. Instead I shot Methie right in the face.
Now, I'll admit that I was not aiming at his face. I was in face aiming at his chest. How I hit him in the face I cannot explain. He was moving so maybe that was it. I was also scared shitless which might also explain it. What had looked like the right thing to do when I started out had just turned into an 'oh-shit' situation in about three seconds.
You know how in the movies they sometimes show the bad guy, or the good guy comes to that, getting shot in slow motion? Time seems to slow down and all that? That's what it seemed like to me for just about five seconds.
My forty-five boomed inside the small store and my ears were ringing before the empty casing hit the floor. I only fired the one time but it was more than enough. Have you ever seen what a forty-five caliber hollow-point does to a human head? I hadn't either until right then.
I'd say it was spectacular but that just seems wrong somehow. I'll spare you the gory details except to say that Methie's head exploded like a cantaloupe. It was that bad. Blood and brains went everywhere behind him. . . .
Okay that's not really sparing you, is it. Anyway, Methie was dead long before he hit the ground. Not to be melodramatic about it but. . .well, in technical terms he had just suffered massive head trauma. He was as dead as George Washington right there in the floor of the Papa John's pizza parlor.
As a technical question, is a place that is pick-up and delivery only still considered a parlor? I mean if there's no tables and stuff, you just pick the food up and go home with it? I don't know either.
“You can get up now,” I called out, louder probably than I needed to but I was still about half deaf from the gunshot. I saw a hand appear from behind the counter, gripping it hard. Heather soon followed, dragging herself off the floor her eyes now much wider than when Baby had pulled into the drive-through window. She looked at me and then down at Dead Methie, then back up at me.
“Is. . .is he dead?” she asked hesitantly.
“Most definitely,” I nodded. I felt my hands starting to shake about then and very carefully holstered my pistol. I used my hands to scrub my face and then tried to shake the ringing out of my ears. Ever notice how we do that? Think we can shake that ringing away? It doesn't work. Doesn't really hurt anything, but it doesn't help, either.
I had never shot anyone before. Never had to, you know? I hadn't planned on shooting Methie, either. I had it in my mind to just hold him at gunpoint until the police got there and then let them take him. Honest citizen doing his civic duty, right?
That damn bell. It had given me away and made Methie turn the gun on me. I was okay with that since it took the gun off those two teenagers working the pizza place, but I had screwed up by the numbers. I shook that away and looked at Heather.
“Call 911?” I asked. She nodded mutely and picked up the phone. She stood there a second and then hit the toggle to try and get a dial tone. She looked up at me, face puzzled.
“There's no dial tone,” she said evenly. “I don't understand. It was working just a few minutes ago.” She was going into shock it looked like. I tried to remember what you had to do to treat shock victims. Keep them elevated? No, that wasn't right. Warm? It was pretty warm in here already. Damn it I know there was something about this in my first aid class. . . .
“Drake are you okay?” I turned to see Connie standing behind me, gun in hand. She looked at Methie, made a frownie face and then looked back to me.
“I said are you okay?” she demanded a little more urgently and I nodded.
“I think Heather is in shock, maybe,” I told her. Connie nodded and put her own gun away, moving to where Heather The Pizza girl was starting to shake a little, tears tracking down her face. A short teenage boy with wild looking hair and a scraggly beard was peering out from behind a rack used to hold pizzas ready for pickup.
“Hey kid!” I shouted and he cringed, looking like he was ready to bolt. I hadn't mean to shout I just still couldn't hear too good.
“It's okay,” I tried to lower my voice. “See if you can get the phone to work and call 911, okay? I think Heather may need an ambulance and we definitely need the cops.” He nodded his head so rapid and jerkily that if I hadn't just killed someone it would have been funny. He went to a phone in back of the little store and tried to place a call. I saw him frown and punch the buttons again. After three tries he gave up and walked to the counter. His name tag said Rick.
“Mister, the phone's not working,” Rick said, trying not to look at Methie and trying to act calm in front of Heather. Good kid I decided.
“Look, you got a car?” I asked and he nodded again.
“Drive to City Hall and tell the dispatcher what happened, will you? And please tell them not to come in shooting because I'm honest to God the good guy here. Please?”
“I will,” Rick promised solemnly. He took three steps and then stopped to look at me again.
“I don't think that 'll matter tonight,” I promised him. “I think you're closed for the night, Rick,” I added, looking down at Methie.
“Oh. Yeah.” With that Rick was out the door and gone. I looked at Connie who was still with Heather. She nodded her head letting me know that Heather was okay, or at least uninjured. I then did something I rarely ever do. Ever.
I apologized.
“Heather,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I still couldn't hear that well. She looked at me.
“Heather, I'm really sorry about this,” I said softly. “I didn't mean for that to happen. I just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you two.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I saw him earlier, standing outside,” she added, though she very carefully didn't look at Methie. “I thought he was just creepy, you know? Maybe waiting for me to come outside after work? We always call the police for an escort when we close so I didn't call them about him before. I wish I had, now.”
So did I, but it wouldn't do to say that.
“Don't worry about that now,” I said instead, shaking my head. “It's not your fault. This guy came in here to rob you and he might have hurt both of you doing it. I still wouldn't have made you see that if I could have helped it.”
“Better than the alternative,” she shrugged and that kinda surprised me. Heather was apparently not just another blonde. (If you're a blonde don't take that personal. There's a girl at my office that's. . . well, you don't care about that.) This girl was smarter than the average pizza cashier it seemed.
I heard a siren about then and looked outside. I couldn't see the car yet but blue strobes were reflecting off anything that would catch a light. I walked to the bench along the wall and sat down. Better to look non-threatening so that some over-eager little JBT didn't shoot me on sight.
Okay, that wasn't fair. Our city police were mostly good guys as far as I knew and a few were even members of our gun club. Still, better safe than sorry, right? Three patrol cars screeched to a halt in front of the store and four officers got out, guns in hand. One came to the door and opened it, seeing Connie and Heather standing behind the counter and I caught my first break of the night. I knew the guy.