Keep Your Crowbar Handy (Book 4): Death and Taxes

by SP Durnin

  * * *

  “Holy fuck!” Garth yelled. “Did you see that shit?”

  Rae’s jaw was nearly hanging open to the floor.

  “That’s my uncle.” Bee smiled and watched through her scope.

  * * *

  Foster took him by the hair and yanked the sergeant’s face around until it was only inches from his own.

  “You’ve got about a minute before ya’ suffocate, so let me clue ya’ in.” The old man held up the knife he’d take from Gale’s own hand. The one he now couldn’t feel, due of the overload of pain shooting up from the broken bones in his right arm. “If you’re gonna fight, fight. Now, when you get to Hell? Remind Lucifer he still owes me twenty bucks from our last poker night. And don’t worry about getting lonely. I’m gonna send every last one of your pussy friends, including General Winston-fucking-Hess, right down there beside you... Jeez, fucking croak already. Yer wastin’ my time, and I got shit to do.”

  And with that, Foster slammed the Field Fighter up through Gale’s mouth where it easily penetrated the underside of his top pallet, and impaled the giant’s oxygen-starved brain.

  George turned, keeping the corpse vertical by way of an iron grip in the dead man’s hair, until he faced the remaining RUST members. Virtually all of them were wide eyed at the sight of an aged, fireplug of a man laying waste to such a large foe. Even Elle stood slack-jawed.

  “You screwballs beat it. You all heard what Gigantor here said. Tell yer’ grand-high, muck-a-muck motherfucker Hess that he’s next on my list, too.” After pulling the Field Fighter free, George allowed Gale’s body to fall, then propelled it some small distance towards his men with a Boondocker-clad foot.

  “And get this piece of shit offa my lawn!!”

  The RUST commandos heads all swiveled to Elle. “You stupid old bastard. Do you think you’ve accomplished anything? Even if Pecos surrenders, the general is going to hang your skin from the walls outside for this.”

  “Looking forward to him trying.” He moved to cut Ryan and Salazar’s bonds. “Now understand: I don’t give two-shits why you done this, but I think you should at least be honest with the boy here.”

  She considered Leo for a moment. “I have my orders.”

  “So it was all a lie? All of it?” The younger man stood dejected as Foster helped Szimanski to his feet. “How long have you been one of them?”

  “When the dead rose, the general knew the only way to save the country was to make some hard choices,” Elle admitted. “I was in contact with him even before you all showed up at Rae’s. I’d have liked to hand the Mimi over to him, but Methuselah there had too many countermeasures in place. Who removes their vehicle’s ignition before they go to bed every night?”

  Foster smiled. “I do. Plug-and-Play was a revolutionary concept.”

  “What about us?” Leo mumbled.

  She shrugged. “Don’t take it personally. It was fun. I’ve always had a thing for younger men, and you seemed so eager… Honestly I thought one of the others would find it strange, but the lot of you were always too busy trying to get in each-other’s pants. Personally, I can’t believe any of your crew managed to survive for this long against the creatures. None of you have a lick of discipline. The general gave orders early on about how any ‘recreational activities’ would be handled, and put a system in place to rebuild the population quickly. I’d think that would be attractive to you people.”

  “When do you cycle through the ‘recreation tent’?” George sneered. “I’d part with my favorite testicle to see the look on yer’ face when that happens.”

  Elle’s expression turned smug. “I don’t. The general knows when he’s got a valuable asset. Since I’m done playing Battlefield Babe with you people, I’ll be taking command of a squad once I get back to our staging area. You’ll be seeing me again.”

  “I hope not. Goodbye Elle.” Salazar turned and started walking back to Pecos.

  “You’re insane, you know that right?” Ryan couldn’t stop shaking, even with the painfully bruised ribs and facial contusions. “I’ve never seen anyone dish out an ass-kicking like that!”

  Keeping one eye on the pair of retreating RUST members as four of them carted off Gale’s corpse, Foster steadied the beaten man “We need to get yer team off the street. Leavin’ them lay around like this might attract ghouls.”

  “Yeah. The others are a few streets up. I’ll ask the master sergeant if he’ll loan out a few men to give me a hand. That way—”

  George thrust a finger Szimanski’s way. “I didn’t say you were doin’ nothing. Get yer ass behind the wall and see Doc Barker. I don’t need that Kari girl a’ yours huntin’ my ass down to rip me a new one cause I let you go back out on body duty all busted up. I’m tired, my feet hurt, and I want a damn drink. And we don’t have a lot of time. Hess will be showing up real soon.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Smartass. Vamoose.” Ryan limped away in Leo’s wake and George turned calmly back to Elle. “I see yer’ face again bitch, and I’m gonna kill ya’. No talkin’, no messin’ around. You die. If ya’ got any sense at all in that piss-poor excuse for a brain there…clam-box…you’ll commandeer a vehicle once you get back ta’ camp, an’ your skank ass will start runnin’.”

  Elle pursed her lips. “Fuck you.”

  “Not if ya’ begged me.” Foster turned his back on her and strode for the gate.

  -CHAPTER ELEVEN-

  “Are you okay? That bitch and her friends didn’t rough you up, did they?”

  Salazar kept his gaze on his boots. “No. Ryan caught the worst of it. Once they showed up, Elle put the muzzle of her gun in my back, so I couldn’t do a thing. I swear to God, I didn’t have any idea she was… She seemed the same as always! She wanted to go up to San Francisco together after we made it past the Rockies. We talked about visiting Alcatraz and the old wharf with all those sea lions… Why would she do that?”

  “When I was little, Uncle George told me ‘Folks will do damn crazy stuff fer a cause.’ I think that’s why he retired from the navy. He got sick of people in power turning on their friends to advance their careers.” Bee sat with Leo on the wall, dangling her calves over its inner edge and kicking her feet slightly. She glanced down to where the old man was currently getting himself an epic-level ass-reaming from truly pissed off Rachael Norris. “Wow. She’s pissed. Oh God. Please don’t make me have to start calling her ‘Auntie Rae.’ I think I’d rather part with my girly-bits.”

  “I can’t believe Elle lied to us. To me! All this time!”

  “It happens more often than I’d like to admit.” Bee took his hand in hers. “Don’t get me wrong; I know you’re hurt. I would be too. It’s just that I just know about a lot of messed up stuff from my uncle. Like how in the 70s he spent time tracking some of those dumbasses who scream Aloha Snack-bar! then blow themselves up, and had to shoot his best friend who’d been converted. Or that time he was hunting giant alligators in the Paris sewers and ended up sending the scientist who’d created them —who he’d been in a relationship with—to a mental institution. Or dodging flying saucers in the Ukraine back in the Cold War, and—”

  Leo started. “Wait. You mean UFOs? There are really aliens out there?”

  “Talk with Rae later.” Bee glanced back down to where the buxom woman was still yelling. “She’s annoying as hell, but she also hacked into Area 51, remember? After seeing those videos she pulled off their database, I think walking cadavers the more preferable option. I’ll leave it at that until you watch them.”

  “This day just keeps getting better and better.” Leo slouched. “First my girlfriend turns out to be a brainwashed killer, now you’re telling me we all better pray Sigourney Weaver didn’t get eaten by the zombies. Super. Really. You don’t get the whole concept of cheering someone up, do you.”

  “Whine much, Whiny McWhinerson?”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Bee nudged him with on shoulder. “You’ll survive, kitchen dork.�
�

  “At least I’ve never burned mac-n-cheese. I still don’t understand how you managed that one back in Langley. You cook pasta in water.”

  “What-ever.” She rolled her eyes then gave him a sideways glance. “Some of us didn’t pop out wearing a chef’s hat. Can you imagine the look on that doctors face? Heh! Hey…you were going to school for that, right?”

  “Kinda. I got accepted to the Culinary Art’s Institute of Pittsburgh. I don’t see that happening now, though.”

  Her green ponytails wafted slightly in the breeze. “Do you know how to make a quiche? Kat said Jake made one in Langley, and that it was pretty good, so…”

  * * *

  RUST forces tried to infiltrate Pecos three times over the next two days.

  The first attempt was made by troops using a trio of UNIMOGS and a school bus, just after sundown. They were obviously meant to probe the town’s southern defenses, and didn’t even come close to succeeding. The Ranchers’ Union kept a close watch on livestock within the Buck Jackson Rodeo Arena anyway, so when fatigue-clad men toting rifles started nosing around outside the wall with ropes and boarding ladders, they kind of took it personally. Of the one hundred and forty troops Hess sent on the mission, only sixteen of them (seven of which didn’t survive the night, due to .223-induced lead poisoning) managed to return in the bus.

  The Ranchers went out after they’d fled, took Hess’s Mogs, then used the prepositioned front-loaders inside the walls to block the gate with shipping containers.

  The next morning, Hess sent a pair of his mortar teams to shell Pecos from the high school to the west. They’d driven a pair of Deuces through the fence onto the southern-most baseball diamond where they set up, and proceeded to lob projectiles into the sanctuary. Their security team put down what few dead staggered in as their fellows worked, and finally moved one of the heavy trucks to seal the breech. When they began walking rounds towards the Medical Center, Foster made clear that—as he’d informed Elle—he didn’t have any Stinger missiles, but he did still have Vampirs.

  Not to be confused with vampires, the Russian-made “Vampir” or RPG-29 (Rocket Propelled Grenade) has a flight range of five-hundred meters. That put the baseball field, along with the mortar teams and their trucks, well within its range. The RUST security force barely registered the two eight-finned, anti-tank missiles approach before their transports became fast-moving and flame-covered shrapnel. The few who’d survived the explosions were left to try returning to wherever Hess based sans vehicles, and none made it. The local zombie population took care of them.

  Hess must have been quite miffed about that, because later that evening he sent a platoon of soldiers in speedily-produced gilly suits to try the Southern wall again. Ted and Foster stood with the sergeant major and watched as the thirty RUST soldiers belly-crawled towards the walls. Several even had large packs which George believed might hold explosive or even chemical devices.

  So Close had his sharpshooters pick those men off first. When Jake and his friends had emptied the cache under the distant Pecos Rifle Club, Foster had told him the numerous, helmet-mounted FLIR optic systems they’d discovered there would come in handy eventually. Not a single one of Hess’s sappers had lived to report back in.

  After that, things escalated quickly.

  * * *

  “So… Auntie Rae, huh?”

  Bee didn’t seem to find Cho’s comment amusing. “Do you want a visit from the slap fairy?”

  “Not to be a jerk, but can you imagine what he rug-rats of that union would be like?” Allan laughed openly, but Maggie tried to stifle hers as he went on. “I mean, jeez. Talk about having some lingering childhood issues.”

  “I will kick you in your dangly bits, Allan!”

  * * *

  “Sir?” Elle snapped to attention.

  Hess looked up from the map. The high and junior high schools in Kermit, Texas had been somewhat acceptable interim bases of operation. Supplies both there and in the town itself had been plentiful, but it wouldn’t sustain his forces any longer. They’d emptied the remaining edible stores from homes and businesses of what food-stuffs they could transport, and were preparing to pull out.

  “What’s the situation?”

  Elle shook her head. “We’re as ready, sir. Assaulting the enclave directly is a risky endeavor. Our previous attempts to gain entry haven’t shown any results, though. If we pursue this course of action we’ll lose personnel, but we need the town’s defensive capabilities.”

  General Hess nodded absently. The loss of Sergeant Gage had been inconvenient, but Sergeant Pierce was turning out to be a worthwhile replacement. Perhaps he’d keep her out of the “recreational program” after all. “How soon?”

  She scanned the map and pointed to the appropriate spot. “We can leave immediately, sir. The last buses are being refueled as we speak.”

  “Excellent. Tell our MATTOC driver to prepare.”

  It was time to take Pecos.

  * * *

  “Is everyone in place?” Willow stood beside Ted and Nichols on the northern wall. Two containers over on the west side of the gate, Garth watched the oncoming RUST convoy.

  “You shouldn’t be up here.” Ted removed his hat and placed it upon the container. “One of those deviants out there puts a round though your head, who’s gonna be the voice or reason on the council? Wilson?”

  The redhead pulled back the charging handle of her rifle. “Nancy isn’t that bad. Well. Maybe she is. But there’s no choice. We need everyone who can fire a weapon on the wall. Close and his men have to stay in reserve until the music starts, and until Hess commits his forces.”

  “I’m pretty sure we won’t have to wait too long for that.” Bee lay on her belly close to Leo, scanning the approaching vehicles.

  * * *

  Lying in her place to Bee’s left, Gwen tried to still her shaking hands. The surviving member of the Barbie Duo and her once/current boyfriend Mark admitted they weren’t what most called “first-stringers,” but they’d volunteered to fight beside their companions. Gwen Harker had been with O’Connor’s group since Ohio, having been saved—along with her now deceased friend Donna Blake—from a fate worse than death in a pizzeria. They’d been tied to pool tables by a pack of inbred yokels when Jake and company blew up a propane tank behind the restaurant. With an RPG.

  Gwen looked frightened, but Corporal Mark Weaver radiated an air of determination. He’d gone AWOL from Hess and his underlings first chance he got back in Langley, and the reason Jake’s party had been somewhat ready for the general’s arrival. Gwen and the sandy-haired Weaver hadn’t left each-other’s sides since, and if he had anything to say about it they never would. He’d become a soldier to insure the safety of the United States and now he’d keep her safe, or die trying.

  Mark felt the bulge under his tac-harness, the one made by a small box with a ring inside, and smiled. If they both survived this, he’d ask her tonight.

  * * *

  Barker and the rest of the surgical team had readied what they could back in the Medical Center, but he knew even if everything went according to plan there would be casualties. There were only forty staff members, and maybe half as many volunteers. If the battle grew intense, they would have to triage the wounded.

  His hand moved to his breast pocket and took out the bottle of forty mg olanzapine capsules he kept handy. His nerves were shot, but he needed to be focused. Clear. The pills would calm his nerves, but they’d also dull his senses. That could cost someone their life. He slowly let the bottle fall from his fingers into a nearby wastebasket, then turned to recheck Operating Room One.

  For the first time in months, Barker’s hands weren’t shaking.

  * * *

  David Mooney and the survivors from Oklahoma were interspaced with Garth’s people on the wall’s western half. The beefy man wasn’t a soldier. Before the dead got back up, he’d never have thought he’d live long enough to see the world turn into a real life Mad Max m
ovie. After his wife passed, he’d run his construction business, managed the Sunset Bar and Grill, and basically just tried to live out the remainder of his life as if she’d still been there. He wasn’t afraid. At least, not for himself. If he happened to buy the farm during all this, his Julia would be waiting for him. But he didn’t want his people to end up dead, or worse to become slaves.

  So Mooney stood a little straighter, checked to make sure the magazines Foster had him load were still in place within the bag at his hip, and watched as the monster MATTOC rumbled towards them.

  * * *

  Jake and Kat sat within their Humvee in the outer bailey.

  “Ready?” His CBGB’s t-shirt was sticking to his chest.

  “Wish we could run the air. I can’t think of anything more enjoyable than getting really sweaty with you, but this is a little over the top.” Cho rolled her window lower and wiped the sweat from her neck. It was 109 degrees and they were both perspiring heavily. “I still say we should have beat feet for the nearest horizon when we had the chance.”

  “Hey. Look at me.”

  Kat turned his way and gave a sigh. When Jake reached up to smooth her sweaty hair back over her ear she pressed her cheek against his palm.

  “We’ll win this. Want to know how I know?”

  A worried smile grew on her lips. “Obi-wan appeared last night, and reminded you to salvage plenty of Coppertone next time we go on a salvage run? Along with a map of Cali?”

  “Smart-ass.” He laughed despite the horrid feeling in his guts. “No, it’s because we’re going to the Safe Zone after this. Once we beat RUST, we’re finished trying to save everyone in the whole damn world. We’ve more than done our part out here. I am taking you to the beach, and we’re going to eat real food, and get sloppy drunk, and roll around in the surf having ungodly amounts of sex and scare the wildlife.”