Turning to Floyd, she said, “That good enough for ya, Mr. Man?”
“That’ll do, Mikki. That’ll do.”
Over the radio, Bob couldn’t see Mikki stuck her tongue out at Floyd.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“So why are there no zombies in France?” MacGyver asked, as Floyd drove along the interstate. The other two navy men snickered a bit. It was obvious they had heard this one before.
“I don’t know, why?” Floyd eventually asked.
“Because the French are so damn good at running away!”
Floyd chuckled and the military guys laughed out loud.
“I don’t get it,” said Mikki.
That only made the navy men laugh even louder.
“Old World War II reference,” Floyd explained. “Although the French did have one of the best underground resistance groups.”
“Yeah, under-ground!” Lolo joked. Nobody got that one.
“Comin’ up on Barstow, Floyd,” Mikki announced, more than a little annoyed that they had laughed at her and anxious to change the subject. She zoomed in the camera monitors.
“Wow! What the hell happened here,” Lolo asked, seeing the sea of zombie bodies spread around the place.
“Floyd and Mikki happened here,” stated Mikki, proudly. “That’s what!”
“Daaaaaamn,” MacGyver said to Mikki. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“That would be a good idea,” Floyd affirmed, with a sly grin.
“Looks like you missed a few,” Lieutenant Carlson said, pointing at one of the monitor screens.
“Yeah, some more tourists must have arrived,” Mikki agreed, panning the cameras around the area, revealing a couple dozen creepers spread throughout the area.
“Barstow always was a popular pit stop for travelers.”
“Yeah, well, now it’s just a pit,” Mikki asserted. To the men in the back she added, “These ain’t nothing like the Super Z’s we just fought. Whadda ya think, Floyd? Break outta this tin can and mix it up a bit or play it safe and dust ‘em with the truck guns?”
“You just had to say ‘truck’ again, didn’t you?”
“No shit, Sherlock! So what’s it gonna be?”
“You just want to play with your sword again, don’t you?”
Mikki smiled big as she zipped up her jacket and donned her helmet. “Much better gettin’ practice on these losers than on the Super Creepers, dontcha think?”
“Alright, Mikki. I’ll cover you from up top with a Mini Uzi.”
“Thanks, Floyd!” She sounded like a kid who just got extra recess.
“Don’t mention it.”
“Wait a minute,” the lieutenant interjected. “What are you guys talking about? You’re not going out there, are you? What for?”
Floyd and Mikki looked at each other, and then back at the lieutenant.
At the same time, Floyd said “Training,”, and Mikki said, “Fun!”
Mikki zipped up her jacket and threw on her helmet. She wore the belt with her holstered pistols and combat knife, but left all the bigger weapons, other than a number of grenades, of course. Her primary weapon, however, was her katana.
“Watch and learn, boys!” letting out a Rebel Yell that everyone could hear through her helmet without the loudspeaker on as she climbed up the ladder and threw open the hatch.
“She’s gonna get herself killed,” the lieutenant warned, wondering how these two had managed to survive for so long.
“One of these days, no doubt,” Floyd responded nonchalantly. “But not today. I’ve learned that, sometimes, you just gotta let her cut loose a bit.”
“Shouldn’t we help her?” Lolo asked the lieutenant as Floyd climbed up and took a position on the roof of the vehicle. From there, he could cover Mikki if she got into trouble.
Looking at the monitor, the lieutenant watched as Mikki turned into a whirling dervish, slashing anything within range of her blade. “I’m not sure she needs our help,” he said. “But let’s get topside, just in case. Not you,” he said to MacGyver. “You got one bad arm already.”
“Yes, sir!” MacGyver readily agreed, without even a hint of protest.
“Keep a hand on one of the gun ports, just in case. Let’s go, Lolo.”
“Right behind you, boss!”
Floyd kept a watchful eye on Mikki, but he wasn’t needed. She was well-armored and well-experienced. And she was becoming quite an expert with the Katana. Mikki had turned dismembering zombies into a genuine art form. Even the Navy SEALs were impressed by her fluid, effortless movements and deadly efficiency. She moved like a ninja ballerina.
Mikki’s performance was so impressive, they should have sold tickets. Assuming there was anyone around to buy them. She jumped and twirled and hacked and slashed, zipping around from one creeper to the other.
Beside the fact that it didn’t need ammunition, the sword seemed to have another distinct advantage: it was basically silent. Most of the time, the shamblers didn’t even know they were under attack until their severed heads were rolling on the gravel. As a result, they didn’t start howling, they didn’t call for others, and they didn’t swarm her. They just dropped headless to the ground, one after the other.
When it was all over, Mikki stood alone, barely even breathing hard and without breaking a sweat. She wiped bits of decayed flesh off the blade with a piece of cloth, sheathed the katana, and headed back to the TAV. No one said a word as she climbed the outside metal rungs and dropped down into the vehicle, humming a little tune to herself.
“Thanks, Floyd,” she said, patting him on the shoulder as she passed him.
“Any time, Mikki.”
He turned and followed her inside.
Chapter Twenty-Three
With Barstow once again safe for humanity—or at least for a boatload of family campers the return trip—Floyd put Behemoth into drive once more. Mikki was in a great mood, still high from her creeper-kill buzz. MacGyver’s arm seemed to be healing well. There was no sign of infection and the bullet that ripped through his arm had missed the bone.
Everyone was in high spirits. The navy men were thrilled to be out of their self-imposed prison while Floyd and Mikki were looking forward to seeing Ranger Martin and the others again. Except for the Sourpuss Family (although Floyd did want to see their reaction when he rolled in with Behemoth).
Floyd took turns driving with Mikki and MacGyver. The latter had little use of his right arm, but the TAV was pretty well automated and not difficult to steer. Other than stopping for an hour or two of training over the next three days, they spent all their time driving or sleeping while others drove. That was another plus about Behemoth—it never needed to stop for gas. There was even a self-maintaining chemical toilet behind a narrow door in the back. Now that was convenient!
Finally, the west barricade of the former raider camp came into view on the long-range cameras. Someone in the tower began waving as they approached. By the time they pulled around the barricade down the road to the campsite, the whole community was out to greet them.
It was quite a homecoming party. Reactions ranged from surprise that Floyd and Mikki were still alive to shock at the sight of Behemoth, accompanied by tears of joy that everyone’s dream of being rescued was finally coming true.
Only Mr. Sourpuss and his family didn’t seem impressed. Parents often warn their children not to make funny faces or their face will get stuck that way. Mikki wondered if that’s what had happened to them. Only the faces they made were anything but funny. More of a permanent scowl. How did they ever have two kids? Did they frown like that when they were making love? Enquiring minds do not want to know! Just the thought of those two copulating made Mikki’s skin crawl. She quickly changed the subject in her mind, desperately trying to erase that nauseating mental image. However they came to be, the children had unfortunately inherited the characteristic family sneer.
Mikki noticed that Ranger Martin seemed to be standing awfully close to Marjori
e, who seemed to be overly clingy in a much more familiar way than before. It would seem that since Stan passed away, they had consoled each other more than once or twice. Well why not? The dead is dead and the livin’ gotta keep livin’.
Bob came trotting up to Mikki like a puppy dog who’d been left alone for days. No doubt if anything ever happened to Floyd, he’d try to console Mikki, too. Poor guy. Even without Floyd, that was never gonna happen. But there was something about him that kept Mikki from crushing his hopes like a bug. She thought he was cute, in a nerdy, 10-year-old sort of way, even if he was much older than 10.
Floyd introduced the navy men to everyone. That was easy. There were only three of them. When it came to introducing the entire campsite, however, he introduced Ranger Martin and Marjorie, who took over the introductions. Neither Floyd nor Mikki could remember everyone’s names, anyway, but they did notice that one of the younger women seemed to be newly pregnant. Life does go on. It does indeed.
All of the young boys and several of the men wanted to climb on “the big army truck.” Mikki shot a know-it-all look at Floyd, who just grimaced. He wasn’t going to try to correct everyone that it was a tactical assault vehicle. Once again, this was an argument with Mikki that he knew he had lost.
Floyd climbed back inside the vehicle to chaperone the visitors, whom Mikki led down the ladder one at a time. Everybody got a quick look around inside to ooh and ahh without touching anything. Soon, curiosity grabbed hold of the rest and before an hour had passed, nearly everyone in the camp had been in the belly of the beast.
Ranger Martin and Marjorie were last. True to form, the ranger put his people first. When he finally did enter in the TAV, he traded stories with Floyd and Mikki on what had happened since they last met. As suspected, he admitted that he and Marjorie were now an item.
“We fought it at first,” Marjorie explained. “It didn’t seem right with Stan being gone and all. But then, I always had a soft spot in my heart for John. I just never thought of him in…you know…that way before.”
“And Marjorie always took good care of me ever since I…lost my wife and baby girl,” the ranger added. “It just seemed sort of natural that we should be together.”
“Nobody in the camp raised any eyebrows at you?” Floyd asked.
Marjorie let out a short laugh. “No. They knew we were meant to be together before we did. Or at least, before we would admit it. Several of the girls came up and asked me if there was something going on between me and John. I always said, ‘No,’ and they always said, ‘Why not?’ after the third time that happened I told John and he was acting really funny. I asked if he had any feelings for me like that and he said yes, but he didn’t know how to tell me. He still blamed himself for losing Stan, and he was worried it wasn’t right. Typical John. Always wanting to do the right thing. That’s one reason why I love him so much.”
Ranger Martin blushed so red, he would have stopped traffic. Marjorie grabbed his arm with one hand and briefly rubbed the top of his shoulder affectionately with the other.
Floyd and Mikki filled them in on their adventures. Floyd stuck to the basics, but Mikki kept interrupting excitedly, filling in the more lurid details. Floyd would have completed the entire history lesson in two minutes. Thanks to Mikki, it took 20. However, the way Mikki told the stories, they were much more interesting minutes, so Floyd let her go with it.
According to the ranger and Marjorie, no one else had shown up since Floyd and Mikki had left. The Raider camp was still functional. The Happy Campers had removed the bodies and body parts from the area and rebuilt the dormitory in a much more sturdy (and sanitary) fashion. They had no need for extra beds, but they figured that if someone else did show up, they could stay there until they proved themselves without posing a danger to anyone in the campground. Bob had kept the power running and LeShawn had kept the vehicles maintained, with help from a couple of the other men.
At dinner time, it was quite a feast. Now that it was clear that everyone would be leaving, they killed two of the pigs and several of the chickens and roasted them. There was fresh corn, fresh apples, fresh baked bread and fresh goat’s milk. Nobody wanted more fish. Everything was delicious and, of course, organically grown.
After dinner, two of the men brought out their old fiddles and began playing, accompanied by another man with a clarinet and a young lady on the flute. One of the younger girls banged on a tambourine. Everybody danced around a big bonfire in the center of the complex. The kids in the camp jumped and danced and whirled with abandon. For once they weren’t told to settle down and be quiet, and they made the most of it.
Several of the younger women made various plays for the navy men, who were not at all reluctant to indulge them. There was a distinct shortage of men in the camp, and the sight of these three muscular men in the peak of health nearly made a few of the ladies swoon. They jockeyed for position, each trying to outdo the others, pushing their feminine flirting skills to the max. As for the new men, after being cooped up in the camp for nearly two years smelling only each other, the scent of a woman was a decidedly pleasant change.
Floyd sat like a bump on a log. Literally. On a log. Mikki sat beside him. She kept looking at him and smiling. Then she got a little fidgety. Then she got a lot fidgety. She kind of bounced her legs up and down nervously as she sat.
After more than 30 minutes of watching everyone else have a good time, she finally asked, exasperated, “Ain’t you never gonna ask me to dance, Floyd?”
Floyd looked at her briefly, then hung his head and looked away. “Nope,” he mumbled.
Mikki was hurt, and he could see it in her face as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Why not?” she asked.
“I…I don’t know how to dance.”
“You don’t know how to dance?” Mikki asked with a laugh in her voice.
“No! I don’t know how, OK? I was supposed to take lessons with my fiancé so we could dance at the wedding, but you know how that turned out.”
It was clear that Floyd was embarrassed and deeply wounded. Mikki pulled his face around and held his head in her hands, gazing into his eyes. In the softest, sweetest, most supportive voice possible, she said, “Oh, baby. You don’t need to know how to dance. You just need to know how to have fun! Look at those people out there. You think any one of ‘em knows how to dance? OK, so Ranger Martin and Marjorie are twirlin’ up a storm, but look at the others. You tellin’ me you cain’t do that? They ain’t exactly Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, ya know!”
For the first time, Floyd actually looked at the dancers. He had been so caught up in his own embarrassment that he had avoided really seeing them all this time. He was frankly quite shocked at the sight. They were terrible! And none of them cared! A few were pretty good, but most were bouncing around like drunken monkeys. And no one noticed! No one cared! Everyone was having too good a time to judge what others were doing.
“Come on, baby,” Mikki said softly, pulling him to his feet. “I ain’t never danced before, neither, and I want to dance with my man.”
She didn’t have to drag him over to the music. He went willingly. Neither one of them really knew what they were doing, but from watching John and Marjorie, they figured out where to place their arms and assumed a semi-appropriate position. Then, they started moving.
It was more than a little awkward at first, as Floyd kept looking down at their feet. He was determined to do it right, yet he still managed to step on Mikki’s toes more than once. Fortunately, she never even felt it through her semi-armored pirate boots. Eventually, she grabbed his chin and lifted it up and said, “Stop lookin’ at the ground, dammit. Look at me.”
It wasn’t said in anger, and the look in her eyes captivated him. Once he looked into her eyes, he couldn’t turn away. He had never really seen her this way before. They started moving together, their feet in time with the music. Before long, they were actually…dancing! They stomped around in circles in a manner that would have made Fred Asta
ire cringe, but they were dancing. And they were having fun!
Floyd even got up enough courage to try to spin Mikki around. She didn’t know what he was trying to do and got caught in his arm when their hands got twisted, but once she figured it out, she told him to do it again. This time, she did it. She spun around and landed right back in his arms.
They might have been kicking up dust on a dirt floor in the middle of the wilderness in a world full of zombies, but for those brief, wonderful, amazing minutes, Mikki was a princess dancing with her prince in a magical castle on a pink cloud, and she could see from his face that Floyd was right there with her on the same cloud.
At o0ne point, he stopped dancing, pulled her to him, and whispered in her ear, “I do love you, Michelle. I love you so very much.”
She buried her face into his strong shoulder, as a single tear of joy ran down her cheek.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The sun streamed in through the cabin window much too early, as far as Floyd and Mikki were concerned. They could have traded up, but the two insisted on staying in cabin number eight, the same one they had stayed in before. It held great memories for them, and why would they need more room, anyway? After sleeping inside a rolling tin can with three other people for days, the dinky cabin seemed like a palace. It smelled better, too. Besides, neither Floyd nor Mikki needed much room, as there was never any space between them. For more than half the night, each took turns on top of the other.
Now the sun was up, and soon it would be time to go. Neither one wanted to. There was nothing for them back at NCH. They would escort the campers there and that would be the end of it. They’d be back in Behemoth heading for nowhere again. For the first time, as they laid there together in the silent early dawn, they began to talk about the future.
Floyd & Mikki (Book 2): Zombie Slayers (Dawn of the Living) Page 11