by Victor Cruz
Maxson exhaled a noise that was halfway between a scoff and a smirk while remain otherwise silent. Booker’s Pharmacy was coming into view on the horizon and the turn into the parking lot would be coming shortly.
“Alright. Enough of this pillow talk,” Maxson said to the other two. “Looks like we have a few waiting for dinner to be delivered.”
“Run ‘em over,” Suggested Colton. Finally ending his silence.
“Nah. They’re only four of them. No reason to damage the truck,” Maxson said pulling in front of the pharmacy.
Booker’s Pharmacy wasn’t a small building and sold general supplies along with medicine. Maxson had learned that a man named Dr. Melvin Booker had owned the business after rummaging through the place. A picture of the black doctor with his interracial family was held in a plaque in the main office in the back. He had found the loaded .38 special that he currently carried hidden under the classy, but modest wooden desk a few weeks ago. It was secured just under the table of the desk by a leather holster that would allow the person behind the desk to grab it with their hands out of view from a person from the other side of it. Maxson remembered thinking how odd it was that the jolly doctor who owned his own business would have a gun concealed in such a way, but brushed it off.
Putting the truck in park, the four men immediately hopped out of the truck. There were four dead that were already walking towards them from different directions. They were far enough away that the men had time to get their bags on their back and Maxson to grab the bat that was left in bed of the truck. Reggie faced the rotting corpse closest and walking towards them. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pair of golden brass knuckles that covered his left hand.
“I got this,” Reggie was fitting the brass over his own knuckles and clenching his fist while strutting confidently. His pace slowed down as he showed off the brass knuckles to Maxson and Colton. “Remember… not a word about this to ‘Nezz.”
“Quit stalling and get going!” Colton yelled out recklessly with his hands cupping his mouth ignoring his comments. Maxson gave him a light punch in the arm to quiet him down and Colton turned to him to say in a softer voice, “Inez sure does have that man wrapped around her finger.”
Reggie was tested the creature’s movements by bouncing on his toes and circling around it. The corpse was larger than the average sized man and wore overalls that had a trucker cap. On the hat was a design that looked similar at first glance, but was too far away for Maxson to make anything of it. The trucker was missing part of its hand, but still somehow managed to hold onto its grungy beard that was as unkept as Konrad’s. Reggie named it as he got close. “Alright Big Hoss. Let’s see what you got.”
Reggie was over 6’0 and was lean like Colton, but had an extra ten to fifteen pounds of muscle to him. Neither of them was even close to the size of Maxson’s 235lb frame, but each could still hold their own when things became physical. Especially the experienced Reggie, who was currently moving his feet to elegantly dance around the creature that spun slowly with Reggie’s footwork.
“Let’s practice a little southpaw,” Reggie called back to Maxson and Colton and squared his shoulders up with his left, leather glove covered hand leading. His tennis-shoe covered feet planted suddenly and his hand flashed outwards in two successions. The first jab smashed the creature’s nose, causing black coagulated blood to begin oozing down its mouth and in its beard. The second punch stabbed and crushed its eye to replace it with the same black fluid that ran from its nose. Its head cocked back each time Reggie hit it, but it continued to stumble towards him.
“Woooo-Weee… Big Hoss can take a hit!” Colton said, banging his palm against the side of the truck. His attention turned to Reggie to brotherly mock him with a snicker, “If you can’t handle big boy, you just call for help!”
“Fuck off Colt,” Jabbed Reggie once again. The big fat trucker’s hat flying off the top of its head. It stumbled back a few steps and looked like it was near toppling over, but kept itself standing in its dirty workman boots.
Maxson could see the second creature lurking slower. “Enough with the sparring. Take it out.”
“If you say so,” Reggie took a few seconds to display some fancy foot work, before planting his feet and cocking his right hand back. The brass covered fist slammed directly into the creature’s forehead with a wet splatter. This time, the creature fell onto its back with the heel of its boot twitching a few times against the ground.
Yargan had remained silent until his roar of a cheer. Maxson and Colton both looked at him mostly stunned that he made any noise. He had an unapologetic excited smile on his face at the show that Reggie was giving them.
Reggie was ready to stomp on its skull, before it completely stopped moving and lied motionless near the entrance of the pharmacy. “I still got the magic touch.”
“My turn,” Colton said pacing towards the second creature with a hand extended towards Maxon. “Toss me the bat.”
Colt caught the metal bat in stride and met the second one that wore a dress, halfway. He pointed the bat outwards like a baseball player would signal a homerun before pulling it back and over his shoulder. His voice changed as though he was speaking over an intercom. “Now, up to bat, number twenty-two, shortstop Colton Keaton!!!”
Colton raised his arms around with the bat and pumped the imaginary crowd that was watching with Reggie and Maxson. “Down by 3… Bottom of the 9th…. Bases loaded…. a swing of the bat could win the game!!!”
Colton finally took his baseball stance a few feet in front of the dead walking creature that was once a human female. It was groaning and holding its arms up to grab at him as it limped towards him. Waiting till the last minute, Colton swung the metal bat at the second creature to crack it upside the head. Like Reggie’s, it felt to the ground instantly dying.
“Hoommeerrrruunnnn!” Colton bellowed while cupping his hands around his mouth and the bat tucked under his armpit. “The crowd goes wiiillllldddd!” Colton cockily turned to Reggie. “Now that’s how you do that!”
“Whatever, fool. You were using a bat,” Reggie physically waved him off with a hand. “I’ll show you how it’s done. Unless you want the honors, Maxson?”
Maxson shook his head. “Nah, go ahead. Be my guest. Just hurry, boys, we don’t want to be out here after dark!”
“Yeah, I know what that Henry said!” Colton yelled over Reggie. “I think the old man is just seeing things! Those tracks he found could have been anything!”
Whatever it was. It was big.
Reggie and Colton suddenly raced one another to the third and fourth one that was half a city block away. Yargan slowly followed behind them unable to keep up with their speed. By the time Yargan got there the two in front were already taking turns beating one down with the bat and brass knuckles. Yargan stole the bat from Colton to kill the third one immediately. The three men had a good laugh with one another at the way the creature’s head splattered when Yargan smashed it.
Actions speak louder than words sometimes, Maxson thought, watching the two men bond with Yargan, who spoke almost no English.
Maxson watched the three barbarians turn the cannibal corpse into a victim and viciously slaughter it. After a few blows to its head to easily get it to the ground the men pinned it down on its back so they could take turns stomping on its head. Colton was dancing around on its head like he was line dancing in a country dance off. The other two men followed dancing behind him and they all found out that Yargan was a decent dancer. The crushed head of the dead creature looked like a grape crushed into its black sludge wine.
It wasn’t until around the moment the last one died did Maxson remember Catalina’s piece of paper that she had given him. For some reason he expected her to write down an endless list of items that would be impossible to achieve; which would have been her style.
“Alright, sister-in-law, what are we shopping for today?”, Maxson said while pulling out the folded piece of paper. He stared at her handwr
iting with a blank look that turned inquisitive. He chuckled to himself, “Oh Cat, you sure do make my heart smile and purr.”
Colton’s cowboy boots, Yargan’s work boot and Reggie’s tennis shoes were all covered in black blood when they returned from clearing out the area. Colton saw Maxson laugh. “What you laughing about?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“What the? You keeping secrets from us?” Colton persisted.
“Yeah, Maxson. What’s up with that?” Reggie said, pretending to be offended and joining Colton. Yargan looked confused and remained silent.
“I was thinking about how sweet your two mothers were to me the night I conceived you both.” Maxson stoically jabbed as he walked towards the Pharmacy.
“That’s not funny. My mother’s dead!” Colton jogged to catch up and follow Maxson.
“Psh. Yeah, like twenty years ago and just like my own. And that was way before shit hit the fan. So, I’m not the man to whine to about it.” Maxson dismissed Colton’s objection with an aggressive wave of his hand.
Colton’s snickering was mischievously boyish and even if nobody else thought he was funny; he certainly got a kick out of himself. Maxson put up with his boisterous personality as a way to pass the time, but also thought of him as a good contrast to himself. They walked into the store with empty hands, but they still had their weapons. After clearing it out the first day, there hadn’t been any danger within its walls in the half dozen times they had made trips there.
Shelves were becoming empty as the men began to fill their bags. Walking up and down the aisles looking for food, drink, medicine, hygienic and other helpful supplies they could carry to the truck.
“These might work,” Maxson said finding a pile of eyeglasses. He had perfect vision and never needed them so had no idea to know what Howard needed. Checking out the pile of framed lenses they seemed random in prescription.
Maxson continued pilfering planning to take all of the medicine he could carry back to the countryside home. Pills, syringes, alcohol, fluids, bandages, gauze and anything that looked like an antibiotic or painkiller were grabbed.
We’re all fucked if we lose the old man, Maxson thought, but had kept to himself all the while putting on the façade that he would be okay. And not even to one of those things, but to a god-damned fucking fever, no less.
As the four men filled up more items into the extra tote bags that the store once sold, a loud scratching noise screeched from the back. The group all stopped, immediately pulling their firearms.
There was a long silent pause that made them all question their paranoia for a moment until a loud banging thud followed. The noise was coming from the office in the back of the building that belonged to Dr. Melvin Booker before civilization crashed. Maxson fanned Reggie to take point since he had the shotgun and followed him with Colton behind him and Yargan at the back. Yargan had to use Maxson’s .22 as he didn’t bring a weapon, but he might have been able to make the stock of the rifle as lethal as the trigger.
The sound was growing louder and sounded like banging, groaning mixed with an odd growling. The four of them slowly moved towards the office door that was halfway open where the noise persisted. Maxson had no idea what to expect, but he used both hands to firmly level his .38 far around Reggie’s shoulder as they reached the doorway. Putting his shoulder against the ledge of the entrance to the room Reggie gave Maxson one last look with his amber colored eyes waiting to get the go ahead.
Maxson didn’t give permission immediately. Instead, he listened to the groans and growling that hadn’t stopped or skipped a heartbeat since they had heard it. They had the element of surprise still and Maxson gave Reggie one firm nod.
Reggie poked his head out briefly to give himself a second to check out what was going on before raising his shotgun at shoulder level. Maxson noted that Reggie hadn’t fired immediately and could see the hesitation in his eyes that weren’t filled with fear. The growling and groaning hadn’t stopped while he waved Maxson inside. Maxson stepped inside and was surprised to see that they weren’t the only ones visiting the store today.
Hanging halfway out of the window was a short, tubby, bald flesh eater that had gotten itself stuck. Its legs were inside the building which meant it had walked inside the office and tried to make its exit through the opened window. It was groaning and kicking in the air due to its fat body becoming lodged in the tight gap leading outside.
But the growling was coming from the brown-haired beast that had its fangs gripping at one of flesh eater’s kicking pant legs. Its jaw long enough to wrap around the entire calve and Achilles heel jerking it in savage sideway motions. Its tail wagged as it chewed on the durable jeans of the dead man, snarling the entire time. So, enthralled with what it was doing the four-legged creature hadn’t taken notice to either Reggie or Maxson watching it. It gave Maxson a moment to reflect on the dog’s animalistic behavior and how similar it was to Colton, Yargan and Reggie’s just minutes earlier when they had first arrived. The moment was lost when the loud-mouthed Colton turned the corner to join them.
“It’s a fucking dog!” Colton had nearly shouted the obvious. They had seen plenty of stray felines scurrying around, but this was the first time they had ever seen a canine.
The mutt let go of the corpse’s leg proving to be just enough to let the fat corpse fall out of the window and outside. It stood back up and now, after all of this time trying to exit the building, was trying to get back inside.
The dog meanwhile had been startled and hopped back in a defensive position to show its white undercoat briefly. Its head was bent low at them displaying the white stipe of hair that went up its snout to the top of its forehead and parted its eyes. Bearing bright sharp white fangs the dog growled intimidatingly at them. Up and down head movements showed that it was ready to strike at any sudden movement. Snarling had risen to growling and now escalated to an antagonizing bark along with jerky movements to test the men’s reactions. The canine in front of them was the size of a wolf and looked like it had no problems finding meals to survive.
Maxson raised his revolver very slowly, with his finger sliding over the trigger even slower. He had once had a neighborhood dog that would come around when they would hang out and play on the streets with his friends on summer days. Him and Mason would throw old rib bones back and forth until they would finally give them to the furry critters. As good as the memory was, Maxson had to forget it in the moment knowing that each passing second that he hesitated, the harder it would be to put the stray down. Turning his chin away so he didn’t have to see the growling animal expire.
Sorry boy, Maxson gave its condolences before his finger pulled at the trigger.
…
Blue skies turned to turn pink and orange and with the sun slowly setting towards the horizon. They still had over an hour left and had plenty of time to get home still, but were still playing it dangerous if something unidentified was still out there like Henry had said.
Maxson walked out of the building with Colton and Reggie in their red truck out front and waiting. Colton was sitting behind the steering wheel with an excited look on his face. Already anticipating him making a fuss about not ever getting to drive even though that was far from the truth. He had a way of making mountains out of mole hills.
Reggie sat in the passenger side resting the back of his head against the headrest with his eyes closed and ready to get back to Inez. She wasn’t the only thing he cared about, but she was the one he cared about above all else.
Maxson stopped at the entrance and double-checked his bag to make sure that he grabbed what Catalina had requested. It was there. Just under his view of the bag was the trucker cap from the first creature that Reggie had beat to death. The design in shape of a feminine form on it was recognizable, but took Maxson a second to place it. When he did, he walked over Big Hoss and began to go through its pockets. Its face was a mangled mess from Reggie’s fists of fury and oozing its gooey black blood that puddled
from its injuries.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Colton was hanging halfway out the window of the driver seat.
“The hell you robbin’ that dead man for?” Asked Reggie.
Maxson remained undeterred as he continued to go through the pockets. There was a penny, a safety pin and a breath mint still protected by plastic, tarred with dead trucker’s dark blood. He almost gave up until he noticed the pocket in the chest pocket of the overalls.
“Maxson? What are you doing? Supper is going to be cold by the time we get home!” Colton impatiently urged.
One last effort ended with Maxson checking the chest pocket of the overalls. With a jingle and a jangle of metal, Maxson immediately knew he had found what he was looking for. Partly impressed and partly proud of himself for not giving up, he gave himself an imaginary pat on the back. His fingers pulled out the keys and he stood to hold them high above his head towards the pickup truck.
Colton covered his eyes to block out the sun to get a better view of what Maxson was holding, but Reggie knew and shouted out, “What are those to?”
Maxson had a grin on his lips and twirled them on his finger as he walked to the truck. “I think we found out who was the driver to that abandoned semi.”
Maxson reached into his pocket and tossed the keys to their vehicle to Colton who caught them one handed. As Maxson climbed into the backseat, Colton revved the engine like he always liked to. “So, wait, what’re we doing?”
“Let’s go grab that truck. Maybe Henry will find some use for it when he gets better. Give the old bag a reason to live,” Maxson laid out the plan.
“No. Not about the truck, Maxson,” Reggie said from up front in the passenger side seat.
“Yeah. We can grab the big rig, but I wasn’t talking about the truck,” Colton added.
“Oh,” Maxson knew what they were hinting towards. “Wow, you two both are getting soft, y’know that? Alright…” Maxson opened the backseat to the truck and Colton honked the horn.