Floyd & Mikki (Book 2): Zombie Slayers (Dawn of the Living)

by Tatner, Joseph

  “Pleased to meet ya,” said a man with a deep bass voice. He had an air of confidence about him, bordering on arrogance, but not quite. He gripped Floyd’s hand firmly and stared him right in the eye. Floyd could tell at first glance that this guy had ice water in his veins. This was not a man to screw with, but whether he was on the side of the angels or a son of the devil remained to be seen.

  “We’re the Freedom Riders,” he continued. “Heard all about you two on the CB radio. Then we ran into Raul and Carlos out on I-40 and they told us they met you. Never thought we’d actually meet in person. But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You two seem to get around. I’m Jack Brady.”

  Floyd and Mikki noticed all the vehicles had a logo of their own: a large motorcycle tire with wings on both sides. Several of the vehicles flew American flags, and a couple of the motorcycle riders had Stars ‘n Stripes bandanas on their heads or around their necks.

  “I like the logo,” Mikki said.

  “Thanks,” said Jack, with a bit of a smile. “You inspired it. Heard about your F+M symbol and decided we needed one of our own. I saw it on your dune buggy there, but we didn’t know if it was really you or some copycat.”

  “Hey, Floyd,” a woman called out. “If you want, you can ride on the back of my bike any day!”

  The woman took off her motorcycle helmet and dismounted from her bike. The cycle was a gorgeous custom chopper with shining chrome, bright sparkly pink paint, and blood red accents.

  The woman herself was no less stunning. Tall for an Asian. At about 5’7” she was shorter than Floyd but taller than Mikki—but just as well-endowed in the chest area. She had long, straight black hair and a tight, trim body. She wore a white men’s T-shirt (very apparently with no bra), tan shorts and brown leather knee-high boots. Every inch of her exposed yellow skin was smooth and flawless.

  She was stunningly gorgeous. Mikki hated her at first sight.

  “Mya, get back on yer bike!” a man ordered. He was a bit older and a bit heavier that Floyd, and he clearly had some sort of relationship with the Asian vixen. He rode a large black Harley Davidson and was one of the ones sporting a flag bandana. “Don’t mind her none! She’s a handful!”

  “Don’t you know it!” Mya agreed. “That’s Crazy Joe. He thinks he owns me.” Then, looking straight into Floyd’s eyes, she added, in a softer, more sultry voice, “But the offer still stands.” She turned and sashayed back to her bike, her butt swaying from side to side in a hypnotic motion.

  Mikki, however, was not hypnotized. She was not amused. She hated the woman even more. To her relief, however, Floyd barely even looked at Mya. His eyes were on Mikki. After a moment, he just shrugged.

  “Well, we are Floyd and Mikki, alright,” he admitted. “Good to see you again, Raul. So what happened here, Jack?”

  Just then a siren went off and an ambulance drove up. A real ambulance, complete with flashing lights. Jack waved at the driver to join the group. He threw the emergency vehicle into park and jumped down as another man got out of the back.

  “We made the mistake of trying to get fresh medical supplies from a hospital in the town there. Didn’t think anything of the military camp outside. We seen a lot of those. Always empty. Ran into a crowd of zombies too big to handle, so we retreated, but then we caught the attention of those guys in armor. Never seen anything like them. We thought they were military at first, come to help us out with the zombies, but they attacked us, instead.

  “We ran for our lives and jumped on our bikes, but the tanker split an axle. Couldn’t leave without that. It carries enough gasoline to keep all of us moving. And the driver’s a good buddy of mine. I sent the ambulance away while the rest of us defended the tanker, but we lost three good men. No doubt we all woulda been lost if you hadn’t showed up. It was amazing to see you two in action. Looks like all the stories were true. Who were those guys, anyway?”

  “Super Creepers,” Mikki answered.

  Jack looked at her puzzled.

  “Zombies,” Floyd explained further, “in some kinda special forces armor.”

  “We never saw any zombies move like that before!” Jack asserted.

  “Yeah, we call ‘em Super Zombies. Or Super Zs. Mikki calls ‘em Super Creepers, too. Long story, but they’re zombies, just a helluva lot stronger and smarter than your normal brain-eater. And much better armored.”

  “You know zombies don’t really eat brains,” said the little girl with a smile. She came out from inside one of the pickup trucks and ran right up to Floyd and Mikki. She was only about eight years old and incredibly cute, even if she was covered in grime, with matted blonde hair and a snaggletooth. Mikki’s heart went out to her immediately.

  The young girl noticed Mikki looking at her and with a huge smile, said, “You’re my hero!”

  Taken aback, Mikki asked, “Your hero?”

  “Yeah! I know all about you! I know all the stories! I even know the song!”

  “The song?”

  “Yeah! The Floyd and Mikki song!”

  The girl started singing to the tune of Yankee Doodle.

  Floyd and Mikki came to town, with their guns a blazin’.

  Killing zombies left and right, it really was amazin’!

  Floyd and Mikki keep it up!

  Come and save our city!

  There are zombies all around,

  It really isn’t pretty!

  Came a zombie grizzly bear. It was really scary.

  Floyd and Mikki blew it up, and everyone was merry.

  Floyd and Mikki keep it up!

  Floyd and Mikki save us!

  Help us in our time of need

  And we will sing your praises!

  Everyone applauded except Floyd and Mikki, who didn’t quite know how to react. They were both a little embarrassed. Eventually, Floyd said, “That was real nice.”

  Mikki agreed. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “I’m Becky!” the girl introduced herself, her smile a mile wide and her eyes even wider. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like you!”

  “Oh, no you don’t, believe me.”

  “No, I do, I really do!”

  “Why would you want to be like me?

  “You’re so brave! You’re never afraid of anything!”

  “I got no time for fear,” Mikki bragged, staring straight at Mya, who stopped ogling Floyd just long enough to return Mikki’s glare, momentarily.

  “This here’s Doc Goldman,” Jack said, referring to the man who had emerged from the back of the ambulance. “He’s a real doctor. Damn lucky to have him. Doc, this here is the Floyd and Mikki.”

  “Really? Well, very pleased to meet both of you. Jack, any wounded?”

  The doctor had on an old polo shirt and faded blue slacks. A little portly, with his pants held up over his belly with a black leather belt, he had thinning white hair and a kindly face with gold-tone, wire-framed glasses.

  “No, but we lost three. They’re beyond your help, doc.”

  “Dammit! Who’d we lose?”

  “Russell, James, and Truman.”

  Neither Floyd nor Mikki could tell if those were first or last names, but the Doc clearly recognized them, as a sad look came over his face.

  “Dammit! Good men! Every last one of them. At least none of them had any family. Everyone else OK?”

  “Yeah. And no bites to worry about. This last batch of zombies didn’t seem to be interested in biting. Only killing.”

  “Zombies? I’ve never seen a zombie move like that! I thought they were some rogue military unit. Or a road gang.”

  “No. According to Floyd and Mikki here, they were some kind of Super Zombies. They’ve run into them before.”

  “Oh great! What are we in for next? When will this damn nightmare ever end?”

  “Jack says you was lookin’ for medicine in the hospital,” Mikki interjected.

  “Yes. A terrible mistake, as it turned out. We have some medical supplies, but they’re running low. Would
have been good to resupply, but not at such a cost.”

  “Yeah,” Mikki agreed. “We learned that the hard way too. Hospitals ain’t worth it. Better to look for drugs in an old pharmacy.”

  “Can I take a look at the axle?” Floyd asked.

  Jack answered, “Sure! Take a look while we bury our dead. Would have been a lot more graves to dig if you hadn’t come along. Thanks again, both of you. You saved our lives!”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Floyd crawled out from under the truck and delivered his assessment.

  “Well, the bad news is the axle is broken on one side. Good news is you got a double axle in the back and the other axle is fine. All we gotta do is lift the truck a bit, yank the tire out of the way, and you should be good to go again.”

  “Great,” said Jack, unenthusiastically. “How do we do that out here?”

  “Well, there’s gotta be a jack on the tanker. You don’t need to lift it much, just enough so we can pull the tire out with the axle attached. I can rig a line to our Doom Buggy and yank it out like a bad tooth.”

  “Well, whatever works. It’s Grover’s truck. Grab any other men you need and get it done.”

  “Will do.”

  Grover was about 30 years old. A stocky man with a thick neck and a scruffy beard. He got the jack going while Floyd tied a rope behind the tire and left some slack when he tied the other end to the Doom Buggy. Floyd hit the gas and when the line snapped tight, the tire popped right out. It also knocked the jack out from under the tanker, but that was no problem. The jack was fine and the truck was ready to go. Everyone in the caravan cheered.

  The tanker was nearly full, so Jack let Floyd top off his gas tank. After that, it was time to meet the other members of the troop. There were 15 people left, including three women other than Mya. Becky was one of three children in the group.

  They had come from all over the Western US, surviving on their own and hooking up one or two at a time with Jack. They rightly guessed there was safety in numbers, but there were damn few people left that were untouched by the infection. Even fewer animals.

  Grover had been driving the tanker truck when the outbreak was first reported. When he tried to make a delivery at a gas station and was greeted by a crowd of the undead, he headed for the highway and stayed as far away from any cities or towns as possible. He called his buddy Jack on the CB, who joined him in his pickup truck, which was fitted with a cabin shell over the bed.

  The two kept the tanker loaded with unleaded gasoline, while Jack kept two huge cans full of diesel fuel for the tanker. The tanker had a large capacity fuel tank and a reserve tank as well. When necessary, they’d head into town in Jack’s truck, loaded with shotguns and pistols to raid whatever they could, and then retreat as soon as possible. CB radios didn’t have much of a range unless there was good skip in the atmosphere, but over the past two years, they occasionally found someone on emergency channel nine, or picked up a survivor along the way. They had found Becky hiding like a rabbit in one of the abandoned gas stations and Doc was living in the back of the ambulance, out of gas and out of luck until they came along. The caravan grew from there.

  A couple of people had heard about Floyd and Mikki’s adventures off the CB or shortwave radio and shared the stories. They suspected the tales had been exaggerated, and many doubted that the legendary Zombie Hunters really even existed. Everyone in the Freedom riders group was more than impressed to learn that the stories were, in fact, true. They really had defeated a giant undead grizzly bear. Mikki really had blown up an entire city. They really did commandeer an Obama tactical assault vehicle. They really did paint a heart on their grenades and on buildings they had visited. Mikki’s boobs really were as big as everyone had reported.

  As the group pelted the two with questions, Mya never took her eyes off Floyd, except to glare at Mikki. Mikki refused to look at her, pretending not to notice—but she put her arm around Floyd’s waist and pulled him closer. Crazy Joe did the same with Mya (not that it did any good).

  One of the women opened up the back of an old Ford Aerostar. It had been converted to a sort of rolling commissary. It was loaded with dried food and various sizes of bottled water. She passed out some of the water and a couple of bags of beef jerky to share.

  Floyd and Mikki learned asked more about the small city nearby, and the makeshift military camp on the outer perimeter. The roof of a rather large hospital could be seen from where they were. There wasn’t much else on the highway in either direction for miles. Floyd commented that the military had probably brought people here early to contain the infection. Hell, the Army Corps of Engineers might have even built the hospital.

  Given the number of Super Zs they had recently killed, Floyd and Mikki figured they had probably cleared out the camp of undead soldiers. The IFF in their helmets, Floyd’s training sessions, and dumb luck had all played in their favor. They decided to check the camp. After that, they might take a look at the town, but from what Doc was saying, they would avoid the hospital. No sense stirring up that undead hornet’s nest if they could help it. No one had forgotten that even regular zombies could be a serious threat if they were riled up in sufficient numbers.

  A few of the men volunteered to go with them, including Raul and Carlos, but Floyd and Mikki insisted on going alone, suggesting the men pick through the zombie carcasses for helmets and armor, instead. The two Zombie Hunters successfully argued that no one was as well armored, equipped, or experienced as they were, but the real reason was that they didn’t want to babysit anyone who would probably only get in their way. If anyone died, Floyd and Mikki would get the blame. No thanks!

  They set out in the Doom Buggy, but parked a good distance away from the military perimeter, scanning every inch of the camp through their helmet cams. A tall chain link fence topped with barbed wire had once surrounded the compound, but much of it had collapsed over the past two years. A number of military trailers and manufactured homes had been hauled into the area. One of the trailers had several antennas and a small satellite dish on top. Mikki thought it looked interesting and wanted to investigate that first. They could see no movement of any kind in the area.

  “Well, Floyd, here we are again.”

  “Same shit, different zombies.”

  “Doin’ what we do best.”

  “I reckon.”

  “You ever wonder if there’s a point to all of this, Floyd?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know there’s a point to it.”

  “Really? And what’s that?”

  “Don’t be dead and don’t be bored.”

  Mikki laughed. “Well, we ain’t been bored in a while, that’s fer sure! Looks like you were right about them Super Creepers, too. Looks like they all left to join the fightin’. Don’t seem to be any more around.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see when we actually get inside.”

  “You got a plan, Mr. Man?”

  “Nope. I figure this time we do it Mikki style.”

  “Why does it scare me that you’re sayin’ that?”

  “I dunno. Maybe you’re getting smatter with age.”

  “Smart ass!”

  “Better than a dumb ass! Let’s go.”

  Loaded with grenades, and each carrying a Mini Uzi on their backs, the two donned their helmets and walked slowly but purposefully toward the nearest opening in the fence, Bonnie and Clyde ever ready to protect them. Wind blew dust in swirling circles around them as they walked, but it wasn’t enough to obscure their vision. The helmets didn’t even register the blowing dust on the vision screens.

  It was like entering one of those ghost towns in an old western movie, except the abandoned buildings were made of steel instead of rotted wood. For a change, nothing lurked behind any of the buildings, and they made it to the communications trailer without incident. Mikki stood ready as Floyd moved to throw open the door. She stood a little off to the side, though, in case something jumped out or
fired in her direction. She didn’t feel like getting shot in the chest again anytime soon. The bruises on her boobs had finally all disappeared.

  She waited for nothing. Floyd tried several times, but the door was locked from the inside. He tried knocking and got no answer. Mikki laughed at him for knocking, but Floyd insisted you never knew if someone could be inside. She threw in the anti-armor clip and blew a hole in the door where it seemed the bolt would be.

  It worked. The door pulled open easily.

  It also turned out that Floyd had been right. There were people inside! Four technicians sat at consoles loaded with monitors and blinking machinery. Sadly, they were all dried out and covered in dust and cobwebs. Help had arrived a couple of years too late.

  “I don’t think you’ll find Doom on these computers,” Floyd quipped,” But I’m sure you’ll find something.”

  “Poor bastards. Musta locked themselves in when the rest turned Super Z on them. Gimme a hand movin’ these bodies, Floyd.”

  They dragged the bodies out of the chairs and dumped them into a corner. They left the door wide open to let out the stink that had been locked up in the room.

  “Damn, Floyd! Get a load o’ this!”

  Mikki pointed to a map of the United States on the large monitor that dominated the center of the console. Numerous circles pulsated in red over every major city and town. Clearly, the camp still had power from somewhere. “Looks like this is how it all began, city by city.”

  Mikki found a replay command on the interface screen. Using the mouse, she clicked it, and the map went blank. Then a small red dot appeared on Washington, DC. Several smaller dots appeared in larger cities such as Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York. Almost simultaneously, dots appeared in nearly every state, including Hawaii and Alaska. The oldest dots started growing in size. Soon the entire Eastern Seaboard was covered in overlapping transparent red circles. Soon after, growing circles swallowed up the West Coast as well. It was odd, because there was no pattern to it. It didn’t start from one location and spread. It started in several locations far apart from each other.