“All right,” Garrett said. “We can work out our seating arrangement when we get there. Let’s arm up and head out.”
****
The construction site wasn’t far. There were some greater humans on the way, but the group drove past them. Randy knew they wouldn’t just pass them by on the way back. He hoped the poor things would be gone by then.
At the site they stood around for a while discussing what to take. Robert wanted a bulldozer, a concrete mixer, and a backhoe. There weren’t any cranes, so they’d have to make do. Randy still wasn’t sure what they needed the equipment for. The Great Evil One had set up walls around his city without heavy machinery before, why couldn’t he do it again?
“I think I’ll take the cement mixer,” Robert said. “It’ll feel a little like home. I’ll go slow, leading in the front.”
“I’ll shoot for you,” Harry said. It occurred to Randy that he should’ve volunteered; the cement mixer was the fastest and the biggest, and would likely be passed up by any greater humans. He might’ve been able to get away with not killing any of them.
“Katie, you and Keely should take the car, in the rear. It’ll be safest.”
“That’s a good idea,” Keely said.
“I’ll take the backhoe,” Garrett said. “It’s the most exposed, and probably slowest.”
“I’ll take the bulldozer then,” Vince said. “Who’s with me?”
“I’ll do it,” Dom said. Randy never had a chance.
“Then you’re with me,” Garrett said. Randy nodded.
They had brought several fuel cans, but Robert climbed each vehicle to see if they would start first. None would.
“We’ll have to get the old fuel out of there,” he said as he climbed down from the backhoe.
“Any good way to do that?” Dom asked.
“The gas tanks might have drains on the bottom.”
None of the tanks had drains. The group spent nearly two hours removing the tanks completely, using sticks to scrape the sludge from their insides, then replacing the tanks and filling them with fuel.
“Think we’ll have enough to get back to New L.A.?” Keely asked.
“I don’t know,” Garrett replied. “If anyone has even the slightest inkling you won’t make it back, say something. We can find a quiet place to stop. Katie, you and Keely can take the car back and get more gas.”
“Sounds like a plan, Stan,” Harry said. He scratched at his goatee.
“Same goes for ammo. It shouldn’t be too hard to communicate, I imagine we’ll be doing a maximum twenty miles per hour.”
They climbed into the vehicles, fired them up, and headed for the road. With the cement truck in front and the van in back, they slowly made their way toward New L.A.
Randy wished he would’ve come up with some excuse for not helping. The construction site was long abandoned, but Los Angeles wasn’t. It didn’t take long for greater humans to appear. Randy heard shots from up ahead. He counted himself lucky; he and Garrett were riding third in line, and most likely the two vehicles up front would take care of things. It was difficult enough to sit by and allow greater humans to be hurt, a great sin, but it was for the Cause. He reminded himself of that every time he heard a gunshot.
“Doing all right?” Garrett asked. He must’ve seen Randy flinching.
“Yeah. Not used to gunshots.”
“How in the hell have you survived this long?”
Randy thought for a minute. He decided to think more carefully before speaking from then on, and reminded himself to come up with cover stories in case everyone in New L.A. was this nosy.
“Hiding, mostly.”
“That’s one way to do it. Zombie coming up.” Garrett gestured ahead as though it were nothing at all.
There was no way out of it, then. Randy took the shotgun they’d given him and leaned out the side of the bulldozer. The greater human was heading at them from off the road. It looked hungry, it looked sunburned, it looked hurt, it looked beautiful. Randy’s eyes watered.
“What’re you waiting for, a written invite?”
How easily Randy could’ve spun around and blown Garrett’s foolish head off, but that would spoil everything. Randy closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. When he finally opened his eyes, any remains of the greater human were out of sight. But the feeling was there, and nothing would ever erase that.
25
In the Casino
Nelson thought the shade would be good for him, but it was dim in the casino, which made it even harder to see, and that only upset him more. Bart must have noticed him squinting.
“Told you, we barricaded the ground floor windows. Not much lighting, I’m afraid.”
Nelson looked up. The ceiling was high, but he could see the lights, and they weren’t on. The little light in the casino came from lamps set on roulette tables and the ends of rows of slot machines.
“The lights are off,” Nelson said.
“Of course they are,” Bart’s female guard replied. “These lamps aren’t bright enough to make a scene, but we turn the house lights on and this casino lights up the night sky for miles. Better not to attract unwanted attention.”
“Oh.” It took Nelson a moment to register that she had said anything, and another to notice he had replied. “I think I should probably sit down.”
“You are sitting down.”
Nelson looked around. He was on one of the stools from a nearby slot machine.
“Where’s the goddamn doc?” Bart said, just as one of his guards from before and a short Hispanic woman rushed down the stairs and onto the main floor. “Took you long enough.”
The Hispanic woman rolled her eyes. “Let me see.”
Everyone was staring. She must’ve been talking to him. “I’m sorry?” Nelson said.
“Your foot, let me see?”
“Oh, of course.” Nelson raised his leg. The woman scooted a stool under his calf and sat down in another.
“I’m going to take your shoe off. You ready?”
“Can I get some water?”
“Get the brainiac some water,” Bart said to one of his men. The doctor untied Nelson’s high-top shoe, then unlaced it completely. The shoe let go of its death grip on his foot, and already Nelson felt better.
“I’m taking it off now, okay?”
“Yeah.”
The doctor slid the shoe away, and it tugged on his sock, which was soaked through with blood, so it tugged on his wound. Nelson winced, but the shoe was gone, then the sock, and he got a good look at the gash in his foot.
Bart laughed out loud. “Will you look at that! It only grazed him! All that fuss for nothing!”
“It’s not nothing,” the doctor said. “He’s lost a lot of blood. Not to mention the heat.”
The guard came back with a bottle of water for Nelson. It had no cap, but Nelson didn’t think twice about downing it. The doctor was already wrapping something around his foot, which was throbbing.
“Yeah, well, he has a bigger problem,” Bart said. He stood up, and Nelson could tell he was suddenly not having fun anymore. “He can’t see. And if he can’t see, he’s useless to us. And you know what I do to useless things.”
“You can’t see?” the doctor asked.
“My glasses broke.”
“Nothing we can’t fix, right doc?”
“I’m a nurse practitioner, not an optometrist. But sure, if we get him to an office with the right equipment, I’m sure I can figure something out. Actually cutting the lenses and getting them in the frame… I don’t know.”
“Well,” Bart said. “Just keep in mind what I said about useless things. Get him to a room, will you? Let him take a nap while we scout out a nice eye doctor.”
The doctor and one of the guards were helping Nelson stand, and as they guided him toward the stairs, he said, “Wal-Mart. They usually have an eye center. Some of them do one-hour processing, which means they cut and fit them right there. That’s all we need; I already know my
prescription.”
Bart snapped his fingers. “That’s why you’re the brainiac. I’ll have my men look around. Get some rest, Mr. Scientist. We’re going to do big things together!”
****
“Set him down gently,” the doctor said, but the guard had already let Nelson go. He caught himself on the mattress, which groaned loudly and felt rough, but it was softer than the stool had been. Nelson looked at his foot; the blur was white, no red at all, so it was probably wrapped well. He let his head drop; there was no pillow, but there was a blanket. He was still hot, so he stayed as he was, and fell asleep.
He woke up sensing movement. Nelson sat up, reaching toward a nightstand that wasn’t there for a gun that wasn’t on it.
“Relax,” the doctor said. Nelson lay back again.
“Sorry. Last time I woke up, it was a zombie in my room.”
“No zombie here, though some days I feel like it. I was just checking on you.”
Nelson sat up. He moved his foot around. “I feel a lot better, actually. Thanks, doctor…”
“Fonseca. Just call me Abril.”
“Thanks again.” Nelson looked at the nearby window, which had a heavy curtain over it. He wondered if he was allowed to look out. “What time is it?”
“You were out about six hours,” Abril said. “You were dehydrated more than anything. I’ll have one of Bart’s idiots bring you more.”
“You stand up to him,” Nelson said. “You talk back. Nobody else does.”
“And he hates it. Gilipollas. But he needs me.”
“Why do you stay?”
“I have no choice. Where would I go? And I have my son, as well.”
“You have a son?”
“Uriel. He’s nine. His father died two years ago, when… whatever the hell happened happened. Do you know what it was?”
Nelson shrugged. “I’m an engineer. Couldn’t say. I’ve heard everything from military experiments to God’s wrath.”
Abril nodded. “That many people going crazy… God’s wrath sounds about right.”
“There is no God.”
“Maybe not. But whatever it was, you can’t explain.”
“Neither can you.”
“No, but I’m not the scientist, here.”
Nelson smiled. “You got me there.”
Abril smiled back. “Not everything is explainable, just like how not everything is treatable. But we do the best we can, don’t we? I’ll send that water up. Get some rest.”
One of the guards came by with a canteen of water, and Nelson drank most of it, then went back to sleep.
Voices rang out, someone ran down the hall. Nelson sat up when another person bolted past his open door, confirming it wasn’t a dream. He looked at the heavy curtain; no faint blur of light spread into the room from the space between it and the wall. It was late.
Nelson scooted to the edge of the bed and then prepared himself for pain, but standing was easier than he thought. He walked on the side of his foot that wasn’t hurt, keeping the gash free of pressure, and limped to his doorway.
Downstairs people were shouting. Nelson recognized Bart’s voice. He was barking orders mostly, but now and then Nelson heard someone much quieter, and Bart’s reply was an argument or a snide remark. Step by step, Nelson went toward the commotion, and finally he could see down the stairs and into the main floor of the casino. Abril’s shape caught his eye, but he couldn’t see, so he didn’t know she was staring at him, shaking her head. Then Bart followed her gaze.
“Ah, the brainiac! Glad you’re awake, I wanted you to see this.”
In the middle of a circle of Bart’s men, two blobs sat close to the ground. One of them moved a long, pale thing, and Nelson realized it was an arm. There were people on their knees. And they were grunting, muffled.
“What’s going on?” Nelson asked.
“Emilia, you remember her?” Bart said. The female guard from before waved. “She caught these two trying to pilfer one of our bags while we were on our little trip.”
“They barely put up a fight,” one of Bart’s men said.
“We brought them home to see if they were better at anything than they are at stealing. But they just whined the whole way, so we had them gagged.” Nelson was entering the main floor now, his heart in his throat. “So I’ll ask again,” Bart said, staring at the two on their knees. “What can you do for me? Or are you useless?”
He took the gag off one of them, a man. “Please let us go, please!”
Bart backhanded him across the head. “The time for begging is over.” He stood up straight and spread his arms wide. “It’s a casino! So gamble. Gamble for your life. What are you worth?”
The man looked at each of the people around him, looked at Nelson at the edge of the circle. Nelson looked away.
“Please—”
Bart’s knife came out before another word could, and he jammed it into the captive’s throat. He gurgled and shook, but Bart held him steady by the hair. The woman next to them screamed through her gag.
“Sh sh sh sh sh,” Bart said. He stroked the man’s hair. “It’ll be over soon. There, see? No more pain, no more fear.” He ripped his blade free and let go of the man’s head, and the man keeled over. Bart paced back and forth a few times, then knelt down and met eyes with the woman, who was crying. “Your turn, sweetie. You know I’m serious. What can you do for me?”
Bart took off her gag. “Go to hell, you fucking—”
Bart slashed her throat, and made no effort to hold her up or comfort her. She writhed on the ground for a few seconds, blood pooling into the already-red carpet of the Ace Crazy Hotel and Casino, then stopped moving.
“…Mom?”
All eyes turned to the stairs, where a young boy was sitting at the top, watching the scene below. Abril shoved her way through the crowd of Bart’s men. “I told you to stay upstairs!” she was saying.
“It’s better he sees,” Bart said. Abril and Uriel disappeared into the upper area of the casino. “The kid still needs to figure out what he’s good for, after all. Someone get these bodies off my goddamn carpet. Forget the blood.” He turned to Nelson. “And you, go back to sleep. Tomorrow we’re getting you your glasses, and then you get to work.”
“Work? You said I didn’t have to stay with you.”
“You won’t,” Bart said. “We’re staying with you. We’re moving camp! Everyone’s coming with you to Hoover Dam, science man. You’re going to keep the lights on for us, we’re going to defend you up there, and in the meantime my boys will have you helping them make the goods. Bombs, explosives, maybe some chainsaws on motorcycles. The possibilities are endless now, my friend.” Bart walked past him, up the stairs. “Big things!”
26
Along the Interstate
After a few hours of traveling, Bailey reached the outskirts of a town. As the distance between houses shrank, she realized she might be heading into a city, which was bad. Worse, she couldn’t turn back or else she might run into Burke’s men, or Mike’s.
The day was overcast, and it was cold. It would be snowing soon, Bailey could tell. A strong smell carried on the breeze, the Salt Lake. Bailey wondered what to do. She stopped walking and stared at the road ahead, then she noticed something: Smoke was pouring from the chimney of one of the houses.
Bailey heard a gun cock, and she saw the figure off of the road, among the trees. She’d seen it before but had no idea it was a human being. He was wearing camo.
“Hands up,” he said. “Nice and easy.” Bailey put her hands in the air, but turned to face him. “Didn’t tell you you could move.”
“I’m not afraid to die,” Bailey said. The man smiled. He was younger than the guy from the gas station, but still older than her.
“You armed?”
“Yes.”
“Got food? Water?”
“Little water, less food.”
“Cliff!”
The man looked as if someone had pulled a gun on him. He tur
ned, and a woman was trudging through the snow toward them.
“Not now, Alyssandra!”
“Don’t you wave that thing at everyone who comes down this road!”
“Alyssandra, I’ve told you, nobody good comes from up that way, now get back in the damn house!”
Alyssandra looked at Bailey. “I’m so sorry for my husband,” she said. “You look cold. Will you come inside for a while?”
“Alyssandra!”
“Cliff! If you don’t put that damn thing down, I’ll shoot you with it myself!”
Cliff lowered his gun, and then laughed. He walked over to Alyssandra and put an arm around her, and she returned the gesture.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Cliff said. “Sometimes I forget anyone coming from up that road is no match for Alyssandra’s temper.”
“Oh, hush,” Alyssandra said.
“I shouldn’t stay,” Bailey said. “Your husband’s right, ma’am. There’s no one good up that way. Not past the gas station, anyway. And they’re all looking for me.”
“They won’t come this way. They almost never do. And when they do, we hide, and they don’t bother us.”
“Maybe before, but before they weren’t looking for someone.”
“Even if they come looking for you, they won’t find you. There’s more than just our house out here. We even stay in other houses sometimes.”
“It’s true,” Cliff said. “People leave us alone. And there aren’t many zombies coming up this way either.”
“Why are we still in the road?” Alyssandra said. “Get your asses in the house, right now! That’s not an offer, it’s an order!”
****
“No one can want you bad enough to search every one of these houses,” Alyssandra said. The dining room was lit only by the fireplace, but the food was delicious and the blankets over the windows hid the three of them from anyone outside. “If they did, I doubt you’d have made it this far.”
“I never thought of it that way,” Bailey said. She took a bite of mashed potatoes. They were made from the instant powder, but they were good. “Have you always been here?”
Zombiemandias (Book 2): In the Year of Our Death Page 13