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

by Tatner, Joseph

  Where was Crazy Joe? Why wasn’t he by her side? Where were any of a dozen men who had told Mya they loved her. They all had said it. None had meant it. None had stayed around long enough to prove it. All had abandoned her at the first opportunity. They had all said how gorgeous she was, how hot she was, how wild she was in bed, but no one ever stuck around when life got the least little bit rough.

  Suddenly, Mya felt alone. Truly alone. Alone and empty. No matter what happened to Mikki, she knew instinctively that she would never have a chance at Floyd. Which was probably for the best. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve to live. What did she really have to live for anyway? Mikki would have done her a favor if she had succeeded in killing her.

  Mya looked at the card again. Some memory. Distant. A little girl in a church somewhere. She was maybe seven years old? Wedding of a cousin or somebody. Translucent saints smiling down placidly from stained glass windows. She remembered she was wearing a pretty white dress. It was a long, long time ago.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Floyd glancing in her direction. Their eyes locked, and she was terrified. The judgment! The anger! The hatred! But, no. There was none of that in Floyd’s eyes. Those feelings only came from inside of her. Floyd’s eyes simply showed…sadness. Tenderness. And…something else. Something else that Mya had never known. Forgiveness? A grim but tender hint of a smile curled up at the edges of Floyd’s lips. He gave her a slight nod, then turned his eyes and all of his attention back to Mikki.

  Mya wanted to cry. She wanted to die. She wanted to…she didn’t know what. Her world was spinning madly around head. Mercifully, she faded into a dreamless slumber.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  With no windows in the trailer, there was no way to track the passage of time. Floyd might have been there for hours or days. He dozed off with his head on the gurney, still clutching Mikki’s hand.

  Floyd woke up to the sound of snoring. Doc was crashed out on one of the gurneys asleep. He might be an old curmudgeon with a lousy bedside manner, but he was certainly dedicated to his patients. He looked in vain for any sign of hope from Mikki. She was still unconscious and, if anything, her tortured breathing seemed even worse.

  Floyd felt completely drained. Emotionally, physically and spiritually. How this woman had changed his life! Before he met Mikki, he just went through the motions of staying alive every day, for no real reason. It was just something he did. Now, he could not imagine his life without her.

  He loved going to sleep with her by his side, even if it was cramped up in some vehicle or in sleeping bags on a remote rooftop somewhere. He loved drifting off to sleep every night, knowing she would be there when he woke up in the morning. He loved knowing that her face was the first thing he would see every morning when he woke up. He loved living every day with her.

  He even loved their adventures. They scared the hell out of him most of the time, and the danger of losing her to some brain-eater attack scared him even more, but he wouldn’t trade their life together for anything. She had to get well. She simply had to.

  Mikki’s belongings were piled onto a small table nearby. Noticing her sketchbook, Floyd grabbed and opened it.

  Mikki had been busy. There were pages and pages of sketches. Some were just silly doodles. Others were like mini diary notes. One read, “If I marry Floyd, I will be Mrs. ???” That’s right! Floyd thought. I never told her my last name.

  Some of the sketches were really good! She had a page of all the vehicles they had ridden in, from the creaky bicycles to Behemoth and the Doom Buggy. She had also recreated the sketch she had first made of them. Only this time, she dressed them in the Kevlar motocross gear. Definitely an upgrade from the dorky outfits they were wearing when they met.

  But the one that touched his heart was a drawing of Mikki lying in Floyd’s arms. He presumed they were both naked, although it was only from the waist up. Her head was nestled on his chest while his strong arms surrounded and protected her. She even got his scar right.

  As much as he loved Mikki, the call of nature was a siren song that could not be denied. He opened the trailer door to learn it was the middle of the night. He made his way to the portable latrines, feeling the cool night breeze on his face. On the way back to the trailer, he glanced up at the stars and stopped.

  How many times had they looked up at those stars from a sleeping bag or folding chair, keeping watch somewhere? How many times had he looked up at those same stars before he had met Mikki? Somehow, even the stars seemed brighter with her around. Now, they seemed ominous. Staring down at him like a thousand eyes. Glaring at him. Warning him. He turned his eyes to the ground and headed back to the medical trailer.

  No change. Mikki was still asleep. So were Mya and Doc. Floyd resumed his position at Mikki’s side, holding her hand.

  She stirred a bit! Her head turned in Floyd’s direction! He studied her face intensely, waiting for her eyes to open. He looked and looked, not daring to blink, until his eyes stung and tears ran down his face. He finally allowed himself to blink, then looked again. And looked. And looked.

  But nothing happened. False alarm. Her eyes remained closed and her breathing remained rough. But Floyd kept staring. Hoping. Desperately hoping. Hoping until he joined the others in sleep.

  Floyd had no idea how long he had been out, but the loud beep snapped him back to reality. It took him a couple of moments to understand the meaning of the sound, but he knew instinctively that something was wrong.

  It didn’t take Doc any time at all to recognize the sound. It was a sound he had heard hundreds of times before, and it was never good. He was on his feet in an instant, looking to see which of the unconscious women had triggered the sound.

  It clearly wasn’t Mya, who had been woken by the sound, as well. It was Mikki. Her heart had stopped. Flatline.

  “Move over, Floyd!” Doc ordered.

  Floyd obeyed as Doc pulled down the blanket covering Mikki and grabbed the paddles of a defibrillator. He smeared cream on the paddles, rubbed them together, placed them strategically, and hit the button. Mikki’s body jumped violently, but after waiting a few seconds, the beeping did not resume.

  Doc hit the paddles again, complaining, as usual. “Goddammit! I just got her sewn up and I’ll probably pop every damn stitch.”

  Again, nothing happened.

  “Come on, Mikki!” Doc yelled at her. “Come on! Don’t you give up now!”

  He hit the paddles again.

  And again.

  But not again.

  He slowly, sadly, put the paddles down. Then he reached over and flipped a button on the heart monitor. The screen went blank as it powered off.

  Doc opened Mikki’s eyes one at a time, just to see if there was any hope at all. Seeing none, he closed them, straightened her head on the pillow, and slowly drew the blanket up to cover her face.

  Doc let out a heavy sigh. Mya burst out into tears. Floyd did nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  He just stood there. Like one of those guys who used to dress up like statues to get tips from a crowd of bystanders. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to be breathing.

  Finally, Floyd spoke. It was just one word. One single, solitary word. Doc and Mya barely heard it. It was nothing more than a whisper. Just one word.

  “No.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Floyd had had a lot of crazy dreams in his life that seemed so real. This one was the worst. Worse than when Mikki turned into a zombie and bit him. Then again, some of the horrors they had faced in real life made his nightmares look like puppy dogs and rainbows.

  But this time, he didn’t wake up. There was the blank heart monitor with no power. There was the blanket-draped body on the gurney. There was Mya crying. There was Doc, eyeing him like a hawk.

  “You OK, Floyd?” Doc asked, warily.

  “Huh?”

  “Floyd…are you OK?”

  He heard the words, but they didn’t reg
ister. They didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.

  “Floyd!” Doc said more firmly. “Are you ok?”

  “Huh? What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, Doc. I’m fine. Thanks. I think I’ll just wait here a while.”

  Doc could tell Floyd was not on speaking terms with reality at the moment. He scrutinized everything about him, from his glassy eyes to the uneasy way he was standing, ready to topple over at any minute. He didn’t seem like he would have a violent or self-destructive outburst, but you could never tell in these situations. So Doc watched, and watched, ready for anything.

  Floyd slowly sat down in the chair next to Mikki. He pulled back the blanket. She looked so peaceful. Like she was just sleeping. Sleeping and having a wonderful dream. Maybe dreaming about him? Or blowing up a building or something.

  He took Mikki’s hand and held it. It was so cold. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t right.

  They say that when you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. Now Mikki was dead and Floyd’s life flashed before his eyes.

  Growing up in Pflugerville, Texas. Getting laughed at in school. His dorky proposal on one knee to his fiancée. Basic training. Getting hit by a jeep. Finding the love of his life in bed with his best friend when he came home from the Army. The underside of a countless numbers of cars. Oil. Brake fluid. Radiator coolant. Electrical wires. Transmissions. New reports of some kind of strange infection. Zombie invasion. Apocalypse. World falling all to shit.

  Everything ran in fast forward until the night he met Mikki. Freeze frame. Mikki. Beautiful, tough, annoying, frightening, lovable Mikki. Frozen in his brain forever was the image of her, when the light first flipped on in that darkened basement in Jackson Town.

  Blonde hair. Pigtails. Lollipop stem sticking out of her mouth. Pouty lips. Steel cold eyes. Huge tits in a skimpy T-shirt and shorts. Pink cowgirl boots. Shotgun with a strobe light.

  Beautiful and lethal. Enticing and terrifying. Vulnerable and indomitable.

  Mikki.

  Only Mikki.

  Floyd relived every moment with her in slow motion. He sat there in a daze for hours. Neither Doc nor Mya said anything to him. What could they say? He had to work through his grief, however he dealt with it.

  Eventually, the video ended. It ended with Mikki on a table. With Floyd holding her cold, dead hand.

  The movie was over. There would be no sequel. No more episodes. No more adventures. No “tune in next week.” No cliffhanger. No learning how Buck Rogers got out of this predicament. No same bat-time, same bat-channel. The series had been cancelled.

  That was when reality hit Floyd upside the head with a baseball bat. That was when Floyd finally understood what had happened. That was when he finally accepted the fact that he wasn’t dreaming.

  That was when he finally broke down and cried.

  And cried.

  And cried.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Floating, but not flying. Standing? Lying down? Couldn’t tell. Nothing around. Nothing to see. Everything black.

  Suddenly, a tiny glimmer of light. A pinprick in a wall of blackness. Suddenly another. And another. Shafts of bright white light shattering the darkness. A long tunnel of light, drawing her in.

  Black to white. Bright white. White light. Eyes wide open but unable to see. Feel….nothing. Something? Warm? Calm? Happy?

  Where was she? Was this heaven? Mikki always thought she was going to the other place. But if this was heaven, where were the angels and harps and singing? If this was the other place, where were the devils and pitchforks and fire? If this was limbo, where was the calypso music, and the bar you had to dance under?

  Ha ha. She might be dead, but she still had her sense of humor. She wondered if there was anyone else around to laugh?

  Wherever she was, it wasn’t her final destination. Mikki didn’t know how she knew that. She just knew it. She sensed it. She was waiting for something. Or…something was waiting for her? There was something she had to do. A choice she had to make. A choice she didn’t understand. She had to choose…something. But what?

  As if through fog, a figure began forming. It wasn’t a mist, because it wasn’t physical. It was some kind of a spiritual haze. Mikki couldn’t describe it, but the form took shape. Vaguely human.

  It was the girl from the holy card! Saint Margaret? That didn’t make any sense. Or did it?

  “Do you always wear them clothes?” Mikki asked.

  The young girl before her just smiled. Her crown disappeared, along with the long thin staff with a gold cross at the top. Now, she wore a simple sun dress. She looked really pretty. She had a nice smile. Mikki smiled back.

  Then Mikki recognized the dress. It was just a simple white sun dress, but it was Mikki’s favorite dress when she was a child. It was her only dress she ever had as a child. Her mom’s sister had bought it for her and it had made her feel pretty…girly…special. Her dad hated it, which made her love it even more.

  Another form took shape. A woman. A woman Mikki had never seen, but a presence she had felt. Somewhere deep down inside, Mikki recognized her, but not by her looks.

  The woman was sad, yet happy. And maybe…proud? It was her mom. The woman who had died, giving birth to her. Mikki had never met her. Now, here she was. Mikki felt the love in the woman and recognized it.

  In the background was another woman. And a man in a white robe. She couldn’t make out who they were, but she knew they were the ones who were waiting. They were the ones waiting for her answer. The answer to her choice.

  But what was the choice?

  Then she heard the music. The most beautiful music she had ever heard in her life. It wasn’t singing. It wasn’t instruments. It wasn’t even something she heard in her ears. And yet, it was music, a chorus of song. An internal song.

  It gave her peace. It gave her joy. It brought her a happiness that Mikki had never known or even dreamed of. She had never truly understood the word joy before. It was more amazing than any human feeling she had ever felt. It had something to do with the choice she had to make, but she still didn’t understand.

  Then another face appeared. It was sad. It was crying. It was heartbroken.

  It was…Floyd!

  In an instant, Mikki knew what the choice was. And, in an instant, she made it.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  “Why you cryin’, Floyd?”

  Mikki’s voice was weak, but clear. He looked up to see her eyes open, looking at him with concern.

  What the hell? Was his brain playing tricks on him? Was he dreaming before, or was he dreaming now? Floyd couldn’t tell what was real anymore.

  “Why you cryin’, baby?” Mikki asked again.

  This time, the others heard it, too. Doc ran over to the other side of the gurney and gently pulled Mikki’s head over to look into her face. Sure enough, her eyes were open. More importantly, she was breathing! The breath still came in rough gasps, but she was breathing!

  “Oh, hi, Doc. You fix up Mya?”

  Mya heard this and burst out into tears. Ten seconds ago, Mikki was lying there dead, and her first thought after Floyd about Mya? The Asian girl was processing some serious guilt issues. They really needed to have a talk later. But Mya was too choked up to say anything at the moment.

  Doc wondered how much water had been lost from the Mya’s body. It seemed she had done nothing but cry whenever she was awake ever since she saw Mikki in here. Still, he was glad she was feeling well enough to cry.

  “Yes, Mikki,” Doc reassured her. “Mya’s fine. Or, she will be, after she gets some rest.”

  “It’s a miracle!” Floyd exclaimed.

  Doc just snorted.

  “Oh, come on, Doc! You have to admit she was dead!”

  “I was only dead for a little bit, Floyd,” Mikki interjected, in a soft voice. “I think I saw heaven.”

  “Let me guess,” Doc offered, trying to get a good look into Mikki’s eyes. “Tunnel of bright light? See a bunch of dead relatives?”

  �
��Yeah!” Mikki agreed. “How’d you know?”

  Doc directed his answer at Floyd. “Synapses in the brain firing. Looks like a tunnel of light. Relatives are nothing more than hallucinations. Quite common in near-death experiences.”

  “Near death?” Floyd argued. “Doc, you called it yourself. You turned off the heart monitor and everything. She died!”

  “If she had actually died, she wouldn’t be here now. Whatever!” Turning to Mikki, he said, in a voice far more gentle than anyone had ever heard out of him before, “I’m just glad you’re back with us. You don’t want to ruin my reputation as a doctor, now do you?”

  Humor? That was also new for Doc.

  “Wouldn’t think of it, Doc,” Mikki answered feebly with a little smile. Turning to Floyd, she said, “I really did see heaven, Floyd! I saw Saint Margaret. And my mom was there. She died, Floyd. I never seen her before. I coulda stayed there, but I had to get back to you.”

  “Alright, now, don’t excite yourself.” Doc scolded gently. “You’ve lost a lot of blood and you have a punctured lung. You need to stay laying down for a while. And no excitement, understand?”

  Mikki looked at him and nodded. Indeed, she was feeling pretty tired. She had been through a lot lately. She guessed Floyd had been right, all along. She really wasn’t invulnerable. But there was something else. She had never really been afraid of dying. It was never something that terrified her or haunted her dreams. Like Floyd, however, she had learned to like living.

  No, she didn’t lose a fear of dying, because she never had one, but she had a newfound determination to live every day to the fullest. She had made her choice. As long as she was with Floyd, Mikki could handle whatever life threw at her. Good or bad, life was an adventure worth living, because she had someone worth living it with.