Dead Series (Book 2): A Little More Dead: Gunfire & Sunshine

by Fisher, Sean Thomas

  “Bad idea, hotshot!” Marv pointed the weapon at Stephanie, eyes on fire. “I told ya I’d kill her and I’m a man of my word!”

  Paul leaned in front of her and held his hands up, staggering on his knees. “Don’t!” he cried. “I’m sorry! It’s my fault and won’t happen again!”

  “Go easy, Marv,” Jay ordered in a low voice, massaging the bulge in his jeans. “Don’t go killin all the hot chicks now.”

  Marv looked like he was about to cry, his face a twisted ball of rage. Finally jerking the rifle away, he let out a frustrated cry and glared at Paul. “Next time I will skin her alive and make you watch. You got me, slick?”

  Paul barely nodded, Marv’s face blurring around the edges.

  “Now get yer hands behind yer head and sit still.”

  Paul did as commanded with a warm trickle of blood running into his ear. The room spun around him and his body felt light. He shook his head to clear the fog, catching an angry look from Curtis in the process.

  “Do a little spin for me, girl.”

  Wendy looked from Paul back to Jay and did a slow spin.

  “Nice tat,” Jay said, staring at the small of her back. “Hey Marv, you like butterflies, don’t ya?”

  Marv grunted, keeping the rifle pointed at Paul. “Didn’t call me the butterfly catcher fer nothin,” he said with a cackling laugh.

  Jay’s voice hardened. “Now sit the fuck down on the couch, Goldilocks.”

  Wendy stared at Jay for a long second before folding her trembling arms across her breasts and glancing at their guns on the sofa table. “Guys, we’re all in this mess together,” she said. “It’s us against them. If you do this, we’ll never win.”

  Jay brought his hand back to the M4 and pointed it at her face. “Who said I want to win?”

  Her eyebrows dipped and everything got quiet. Real quiet.

  “I like this world a lot better than the old one where I broke my back pullin sixty hour weeks only to go home to a house full of screaming kids and a wife too fucked up to make me dinner.” He gritted his teeth. “Now, sit the fuck down on the couch, bitch, or I’ll shoot you in the gut.”

  Grudgingly, Wendy sat in a pool of Sophia’s dried blood while Jay leaned the M4 against the armchair Paul spent a few days trying to die in.

  Paul’s mind raced, stunned from the blow to the head and unable to see a way out. His heart beat so fast it made him dizzy. Stephanie leaned against him to keep him from toppling over. He bit his tongue to stay focused. If he passed out now, they were all dead.

  Jay stripped off his oversized shirt, revealing a pregnant looking belly with stretch marks running beneath. Kicking off his white sneakers, he unzipped his jeans and yanked them to the floor, taking his boxers with them and springing loose the biggest erection Paul had ever seen.

  Wendy’s eyes widened.

  “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt, baby girl,” Jay whispered, staring at her like she was a cut of meat in the butcher’s case while pumping his cock in his hand. “Much.”

  Paul bit his tongue harder and looked to Marvin. Marvin flashed a crooked grin, finger hugging the trigger.

  Jay sauntered closer to the couch and stopped, standing over Wendy with his hand bobbing faster. “Go ahead and spread your legs for me, princess.”

  Wendy leaned back into the couch and clamped her legs shut. “Please,” she said, tears cascading down her pasty cheeks. “Don’t do this.”

  “Oh, I’m a gonna do this alright, and I’m a gonna do this all day long.”

  Marv huffed out a short laugh. “Not that long, Jay-man! I want my turn soon,” he said, eyes flicking to Stephanie. He puckered up and blew her a soft kiss before returning his attention to Paul.

  “Spread. Your. Legs. Or I will shoot Paul in the stomach.”

  Wendy glanced at Paul with a feeble look in her eyes that made his gut twist. His mind flipped through options, each one sounding worse than the one before it.

  “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Sabrina.”

  Her body trembled. She took a calming breath and slowly parted her legs, bringing a sparkle to Jay’s eyes.

  “That’s it, baby girl. See? That wasn’t so hard.”

  Marv smiled at Paul. “I think deep down she likes it,” he whispered.

  The metallic taste of blood filled Paul’s mouth and suddenly Marvin wasn’t Marvin anymore. He was Sophia and she was holding up both hands. She nodded upstairs and began counting down on her fingers.

  Nine, eight, seven…

  Jay’s hand worked faster on his big black dick, chest rising and falling as he stared at Wendy in a trance-like state. “Now, pull them panties to the side and let me see how wet you are for me.”

  Wendy sniffled, teeth chattering.

  “Do it or I’ll kill your friends with a knife, one at a time!”

  “Alright!” she snapped, painting her breasts with tears. “Alright.” Sitting up a little straighter, she tried composing herself and reached down between her shaking legs.

  Jay worked his cock.

  Marv laughed.

  Sophia’s fingers dropped.

  Six, five, four…

  Paul readied himself for whatever was about to happen, if anything. He prayed something would because this had to stop and stop right now. Time was up.

  Wendy pinched the lacey material hiding between her legs, eyes searching the room for something that wasn’t there. Something to get them out of this mess.

  Three, two, one…

  A door slammed shut upstairs, making everyone jump. This time Paul moved much faster. Marvin turned back around just in time to catch a fist to the jaw that buckled his legs and dropped him to the floor like a bag of wet cement. Curtis was quick to follow Paul’s lead, darting across the room and tackling Jay to the ground. But Jay was big and naked and slippery. He got up and sent Curtis crashing into the sofa table with their weapons. For a big man, Jay was surprisingly quick in his stocking feet. He reached for the M4 leaning against the armchair, fingertips stopping just inches from the cold metal. Barely moving a muscle, he slowly looked up and over his shoulder. Paul smiled, pointing Marvin’s rifle at the big man’s face. “Hey, girlfriend.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The sun broke through a passing cloud, casting the two men’s shadows across the brown front yard. From the porch, Paul couldn’t hear what Jay and Marvin were saying to each other and didn’t care. Thanks to some rope they found in the garage, they weren’t going anywhere. Paul watched them shift on their knees in the sunshine, ears still ringing from the blow to his head. He released an exasperated breath. All the millions of good people who died out there and these two douche-bags somehow slipped through the cracks. It wasn’t right and maybe God called his children home and this is what He left behind.

  The unholy.

  The undead.

  The unforgiven.

  He blinked the thought away, the Beretta back where it belonged on his right leg and the M4 in his hands. The weapon was lighter than the shotgun and he almost felt whole again.

  “That’s a lot of gun for a city slicker like you, Paul.”

  His gaze drifted to Curtis and thinned. “First of all, I got this. Second of all, you’re from Kansas City, which is bigger than Des Moines, so you calling me a city slicker makes no sense.”

  “Damn big-timer, you don’t have to yell.”

  “I’m not yelling.” Paul jerked his chin to the tactical shotgun lying on the porch swing. “You can have that one.”

  Curtis traded his twelve-gauge for it. “Where’d you get this thing anyway?” he asked, inspecting the weight. “You kill a cop or something?”

  “No,” Paul replied, staring at Jay’s head through the M4’s scope. “He was already dead.” Squeezing the trigger and holding it, he fired off a string of shots that made Jay and Marvin jump like the clumps of dead grass around them. The weapon jackhammered against his shoulder and felt good. He could just imagine the damage this thing could do against t
he undead. It was a serious break that easily could’ve gone the other way. Letting off the trigger before wasting anymore ammo, he lowered the weapon and watched the men scream with an easy smile shaping his lips.

  Stephanie returned to pacing the shaded porch. “We can’t do this.”

  “Oh honey,” Wendy said, fully clothed again and clutching a whiskey and Coke she dug out from the truck bed. “This is Texas; we can do whatever we damn well please.”

  “Let’s just tie them to a tree and let the stragglers get them.”

  Curtis looked at his sister as if she were out of her mind. “And let that big ass dude turn into one of those things? Fuck that; he’d eat everyone.”

  “Or get loose before they even came around,” Wendy added. “And then rape the next person that comes along.”

  “We have to do it ourselves,” Paul muttered, hands sweaty against the M4.

  Stephanie stopped pacing and tilted her head to one side. “No, we don’t, Paul. If we do that, we’ll be just as bad as they are.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because we’re not murders, Curtis! That’s how.”

  “Paul’s right,” Wendy said dully. “They made their decision and now they have to deal with the consequences.” She sipped her drink, glaring at the two men in the yard.

  “Look,” Paul started, “we are the police now. We’re also the judge, jury and executioner. There is nobody else and if we let them go, they’ll only turn around and do this to someone else. Is that what you want, Stephanie? For somebody else to get hurt?”

  “I didn’t say to let them go. I said to tie them up.”

  Paul watched the men shift on their knees as they whispered back and forth. “That’s the same thing as murder. Different solution, same result.”

  Curtis stormed past him, bringing the tactical shotgun to his shoulder. “Fuck this, let’s just do it already and get the hell out of here.”

  Paul grabbed his arm. “I’m the one who brought us here; this is on me.”

  Curtis stared at him for a few quiet seconds before stepping aside.

  Down the front steps on heavy legs, the two men nervously snapped their heads in Paul’s direction.

  Jay was the first to start pleading his case with his hands tied behind his back and sweat popping out over his bald head. “Hey Paul,” he said, wisely using Paul’s name to establish human contact. “We’re real sorry, man. We fucked up but we weren’t going to do anything. I swear to God, man.”

  “You had your dick out!” Curtis exclaimed.

  “Where’d you come from?”

  Jay stared blankly at Paul, chest heaving for air. “Dallas.”

  “No, I mean just now.”

  He looked to the left. “A couple houses over. We saw you coming down the road and...” He stopped to shake his head. “We fucked up. I’m sorry, Paul.”

  Paul let his gaze wander to the trees stretching to the west. “Where’s your car?”

  “It conked out two miles back so we took some ATVs we found at the house.” Jay swapped a nervous look with Marvin. “Came through the woods.”

  “Sneaky,” Curtis muttered, keeping the shotgun on them.

  Paul gestured with the M4. “You got any more ammo for this?”

  Jay nodded rapidly. “There’s a satchel strapped to on one of the ATV’s.”

  “Where?”

  He jerked his chin. “Bout twenty yards into the tree line.” Jay tried to smile but the fear in his eyes prevented that from happening, which gave Paul a glimmer of satisfaction. “Look, you seem like good folks and if you just let us go we promise never to do anything like this again. Never.” His eyes went to Wendy. “Sabrina’s right; it’s us against them now and I’m really sorry, Sabrina.”

  Wendy laughed sharply and swirled her drink.

  “We learned our lesson,” Marvin added, a pleading look floating in his watery eyes. “We’re just scared to death with everything that’s happening out there and not thinking clearly.”

  “No,” Paul said, handing Stephanie the M4 and unleashing the Beretta from its canvas holster. “You were trying to take advantage of a horrible situation like dirt bags will do during a tragedy and now it’s time to pay the price.”

  Jay vehemently shook his head, wide eyes locked on the matte black gun in Paul’s right hand. “That’s not true. We just slipped up.”

  “Bullshit!” Paul spit back.

  “Hey man, we at least deserve a trial or something!”

  He laughed. “This is your trial, asshole!”

  “But we didn’t even do anything!”

  “You kidnapped us, and were two seconds from raping me!”

  “But I didn’t!” Jay exchanged a desperate look with Marvin. “We were just foolin around, huh Marv?”

  Marvin rapidly nodded. “Just foolin around. Swear to God. Just foolin around.”

  Paul stepped closer and pointed the gun at Marvin’s face. “You mean foolin around like this? Because this seems a lot like the kind of foolin around you’re referring to.” He tried to keep the gun from shaking in his hand but it was hard. Sweat rolled into his eyes and his blood raced. This was nothing like shooting a stiff and, deep down, he didn’t know if he could kill another human being, no matter how vile that person may be. Conjuring up all the hate and anger lurking in his heart, he let the ones he lost flicker through his mind in a gruesome slideshow. Even Troy, who saved Paul’s life before losing his own rescuing a woman he’d never met. Paul set his jaw. Out of all those good people, these two assholes somehow survived and it pissed him off to no end.

  Bullshit.

  That’s what it was.

  Plain and simple.

  “Please Paul,” Marvin cried, turning on the water works. “I don’t want to die! I really don’t.”

  “Then you should’ve thought twice about coming after my people because look at you now.”

  Snot ran from Marvin’s nose in clear streams. Tears streaked his cheeks. “I’m sorry, man. I really am.”

  Paul swallowed dryly, the sun hot on his face. He spread his legs and tensed, holding Marvin’s weepy gaze with everything he had. He owed him that much. “I know you are, Marvin,” he whispered, squeezing the trigger and blowing a hole out the back of his head.

  Stephanie shrieked and Marvin fell back onto the grass with a soft bounce.

  “Oh shit! Oh shit!” Jay staggered to his feet and tried to run with his hands tied behind his back.

  Curtis pushed him with the shotgun and Jay fell to his side with a grunt.

  “Fuck you, Paul,” he yelled, realizing the time for making his case had passed. “Who made you sheriff anyway?”

  “I did when everyone else disappeared and you decided to commit a felony instead of helping your neighbor.” Paul fought back the tears building in his eyes, his shadow falling over Jay like the darkness over his heart. Pointing the Beretta at the man’s twisted face, he cocked the hammer back with his thumb and resisted looking at Marvin’s lifeless body.

  Jay trembled from head to foot while a wet spot grew in his pants. He tried sounding brave but his voice came out as little more than a whimper. “I’ll see you in Hell, asshole.”

  The ghost of a grin curled the corners of Paul’s lips. “You tell the Devil I’m coming for him next.”

  “No, wait!”

  A loud blast silenced Jay’s protests. His body jolted with the bullet passing through his skull and brain and into the lawn. Then he was still, the wet spot in his jeans the only part of him continuing to move.

  Paul released an angry cry and dropped to his knees, forcing himself to look at what he’d done. What he’d become.

  “Fuck you for making me do that! Fuck both of you!” Resting his forehead on the grass, he pushed against the pain. He never imagined killing another person before and damn these two cocksuckers for pushing his hand! Even in the face of the evil they were up against, people still couldn’t come together to help one another out and it crippled Paul’s spirit. Lik
e they didn’t have enough to worry about alfuckinready! A hand landed on his back before he heard Wendy’s soft voice.

  “You did the right thing.”

  “Get away from me!” he cried in a guttural voice that made her jump back like he’d changed form into something hideous. Something deadly.

  And he had.

  Chapter Twelve

  The last thing Paul wanted to do was spend another night in this house. But by the time he – somewhat – had his shit together dusk was falling fast and it was too late to go anywhere else. Too dangerous to breathe, let alone travel at night. After he and Curtis hauled Jay and Marvin into the bed of the pickup, they drove a mile down the road and dumped the bodies in a ditch so Paul didn’t have to look at what he’d done. Then they gathered up the satchel of ammo from the ATVs in the woods, thinking they heard something every thirty to sixty seconds. The rounds weren’t much, but enough to get them out of a jam or two.

  Back inside the house, Paul sat slumped in the same armchair he did when Sophia was slipping through his fingers like sand. Drinking a glass of whiskey, he blurred the couch into a fuzzy blob like he’d never left this place at all, like he was caught in a time trap. He kept seeing Sophia’s sunken eyes fall shut, kept feeling her clammy skin against his, hearing her voice get weaker.

  Don’t leave me.

  Yet he had.

  Like the selfish little prick he was.

  Paul brought the fancy rocks glass to his lips and knocked back a swallow, his throat already numb to the slow burn of the alcohol.

  “We need handcuffs.”

  His puffy eyes found Curtis seated in a matching arm chair on the other side of the fireplace. How long he’d been there, Paul didn’t know.

  “Just in case we run into anymore assholes. Not always going to have rope lying around to tie them up with.”

  “Creeps,” Wendy muttered again, gathering her honey-colored hair into a ponytail and staring out the French doors overlooking the back deck. “You’d think after something horrible like this infection took out the entire world that every survivor left would band together to fight it, not make it worse.”