by K Helms
“Why not? They might become good buddies with that troop of fleas in your pelt,” countered Arlington.
The Anubis didn’t respond, instead he fixed a one red-eyed glare on the man with the articulated metal hook.
“Then…” continued Arlington, “I say we go to Hollywood and try to find some hot actresses.”
Arlington smiled broadly.
“You cannot be serious,” exclaimed the Anubis in exasperation.
“I hear they are a bunch of dog lovers,” said Arlington persuasively.
“We are supposed to find a suitable location to place this ship, secure it, and then find and transport survivors so they can reestablish your race.”
“Hollywood babes would be great candidates to begin to reestablish my race with, don’t you think?” Arlington asked.
“You are an idiot. Why would someone like that want a hillbilly like you?” asked the Anubis in a bitter tone in his mind, but Arlington sensed a subtle humor that contained no malice.
Arlington resisted the urge to scratch the humanoid with the dog shaped head behind his ears and calling him a 'good boy'. Instead he smiled and said, “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
Basil closed his eye and looked away with disdain, but Arlington could swear he saw the dog smile.
“I do want to check one place after we go to my trailer,” said Arlington.
“And where might that be? Chuck E. Cheese?”
Arlington laughed, “Ahh a smart ass, eh? No, not Chuck E. Cheese… there would be too many dead kids running around and trying to gnaw on my kneecaps.”
Basil nodded toward Arlington’s hook and dryly said, “Maybe you could lend them a hand.”
“I’m gonna hand you a left hook, fleabag,” said Arlington. “Actually, I want to see if a friend of mine made it to the Greenbrier Hotel in West Virginia.”
“West Virginia. What a colossal surprise,” muttered the Anubis.
As the ship shot toward their destination, Arlington noticed that it didn’t feel like they had moved at all.
“This thing doesn’t have much balls,” said Arlington
“We are traveling at over five hundred miles per hour,” said Basil
“Doesn’t feel like it. It feels like we haven’t moved.”
“The ship negates the G-force. If it didn’t, you would pass out every time we accelerate.”
“Huh…that’s cool, I guess. I was just expecting to get thrown back in my seat a little. This thing is a lot smaller than Noah’s ship too; you would have thought he would have let me have a bigger one to transport people.”
Basil cast his crimson eye at the man.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m an idiot.
Chapter 50 – Three’s A Shroud
Dixton, Ohio
Annie saw the black man walking down the middle of the street of the small town of Dixton, Ohio. His steps were unsure and he often staggered sideways, barely keeping his footing.
“He looks infected,” Juanita said.
“We should still help him,” Annie pleaded
“He’s going to turn, and from the looks of it, it won’t be all that daggone long,” said the short statured woman. “The only way I wanna help him is with this.” She patted the stock of her mini-14.
“We can’t just leave him to be eaten,” insisted Annie
“Looks to me like he’s already been partly eaten, what’s a few more bites?” sneered the little Latino.
“I’m helping him,” Annie said firmly, and stood up from the cover of the hedges. Juanita grabbed for her, but Annie was already moving.
“Arrr…” Juanita growled in disapproval, then cradled the stock into her shoulder and peered down the sights to cover her friend.
Annie looked right and left, making sure the dead didn’t see her and Juanita thought she looked like a school girl checking for traffic before she crossed the street. Then Annie bolted over to where the man stood, swaying and filling his lungs in short raspy breaths.
His face and hands were ashen, his eyes red and watering. The tell-tale signs of infection lined his face like road maps. His breathing was labored and ragged and he wheezed and whistled with each inhalation and exhalation. Annie asked no questions, she simply lifted his right arm and draped it over her shoulder and whispered to him, “Come with me.”
He nodded weakly and made small jerking steps as she led him to the hedges where Juanita waited with a noticeable look of disdain on her face.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Juanita said impatiently, then slung her carbine and grabbed the man’s free arm and held it down to her shoulder. He had no weapons or pack and she wondered how long he had been walking like this.
“Let’s take him to the house,” Annie said in a hushed voice, thick with exertion. They crossed the lawn as fast as they could and eased open the front door. The house had been barricaded by the former residents and was fairly secure; at least temporarily. The two women had hacked up the dead that roamed its halls and rooms late last night, and with Juanita chopping low, Annie chopping high, they had made a good team.
“Just don’t be trying to hook up with him, alright?” Juanita said accusingly.
“I’m not a whore, ‘Nita.”
“Yeah, you kinda are.” said the little Latina with a chuckle. They eased the man onto the couch.
He shook his head weakly. “You shouldn’t have done that…I’m almost done,” he croaked with a dry, cracked voice.
“Told you,” Juanita said triumphantly.
“Can it, Shorty.”
“Whatever.”
“She’s right,” said the black man.
Annie ignored his protests. “What’s your name, sweetie?” she asked holding his hand with one of hers and rubbing it with the other. It was cold and clammy.
“John…Walker.”
“Hi John; I’m Annie and the little, mean girl is Juanita.”
“Woman,” corrected Juanita. “Little, mean woman.”
“I appreciate the…kindness. Thank you,” he said.
“Do you want some water?”
He nodded weakly “And a blanket. I’m freezing.” The last word was said through chattering teeth. Annie could smell the infection upon Walker’s breath.
Annie looked at ‘Nita who rolled her eyes, and went to the bedroom. She returned with two patchwork quilts and draped them over his quivering form.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, John.” Annie’s eyes were tender and Juanita knew that her friend’s heart was in the right place, but sometimes not in her right mind.
There was a moment of awkward silence then John said, “When I turn… will you…you know?”
“Let’s not think about that,” Annie said tearing up.
“I don’t want to be one of …them,” he pleaded.
Juanita knew what he meant because she had the same view for herself. She brandished her machete that was nearly half as tall as she was. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Annie glared at her friend “’Nita put that away and get John some food,” she scolded.
John wriggled uncomfortably beneath the quilts “No…food. I can’t keep it down.”
“Can’t keep it down, huh?” Juanita said mischievously. “Sounds like your kinda man, Annie.”
“’Nita, really?” Annie said in disbelief.
“Fine,” Juanita said grumpily. “I’ll go secure the door.”
John began coughing, blood spraying onto his lips and chin. Annie recoiled instantly, then composed herself and put a palm to his forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” John whispered hoarsely
“Shhh…relax. Rest now,” Annie said then rose from her kneeling position beside the couch.
Annie walked to the kitchen and found Juanita standing on a milk crate in front of the sink, washing her hands.
“He’s not going to last long,” Annie said solemnly.
“No shit, you think?”
“”
Nita….”
“Don’t ‘Nita me, Annie. I’m twenty-eight years old. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that is nine years older than you. I’ve been around a lot longer than you have. I may be small, but I am far from being a child.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“Nita held up a stubby index finger. “I’m not finished.” she said, then continued, deliberately dulling the edge of her tone. “Listen…I am thankful for you coming back for me and I would give my life to repay you, but you need to start listening to me.”
Annie looked down at her feet ashamed. “I know that.” She looked up and leveled her eyes on Juanita’s. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely.
“Besides, I’ve seen enough of these freakin’ zombie bites to know that there is no saving them.” ‘Nita said putting her hands on her hips defiantly.
“So what do you want to do?” asked Annie, walking around her short friend to wash her own hands. Juanita turned back to Annie and felt her anger dissipating.
“We’ll wait, I guess. That’s all we can do now. But when that dude starts groaning then I’m gonna cut off his damn head…no matter how much you like that couch.”
Annie dried her hands on the dish towel. “Fine, just let me know before you do it so I don’t have to watch.”
“Have you lost your mind? I know that you’ve killed zombies…and people for that matter, what’s one more?” Juanita walked to the archway that divided the kitchen from living room and turned again to face Annie at the sink.
“He seems nice. That’s all,” Annie said with a slight pout.
Juanita was becoming exasperated. “He’s not a puppy.”
Annie turned back to her friend and ‘Nita saw her eyes become wide. “Oh shit…”
Juanita sighed heavily. “He’s right behind me isn’t he?”
Annie nodded and with her closest hand, began clamoring for a knife or other cooking utensil to use as a weapon. The next few seconds seemed as if they were in slow motion to Annie as she watched the action unfold before her eyes.
Juanita lunged to her right and leapt upon one of the kitchen chairs. From there she instantly sprang up from it, spinning one hundred and eighty degrees while in the air. As she did this, in one fluid movement she drew the machete from its sheath and slashed the blade across John’s neck.
John’s head hit the floor at the same moment that ‘Nita’s feet touched down. The Latina landed in a crouch, one hand steadying her, and then she looked up in time to watch as John’s decapitated body fell sideways against the doorway to the kitchen and slid down, his bones cracking violently against the hardwood floors.
Annie was speechless for a moment then finally said, “What was that?”
Juanita grabbed the dish towel from the counter and wiped the blade off. “Not something a little person is proud of.”
“What’s not to be proud of? That was incredible.”
Juanita gave her friend a chagrined look. “I did a stint as a midget wrestler a few years ago, OK?” she slammed the blade back into its canvas sheath. “The Doctor knew that; why do you think they always kept me tied up?”
Annie looked sheepishly and shrugged. “I guess I just thought that you liked being tied up. You know like bondage or something.”
Juanita looked crossly at Annie for a moment then her face broke into a grin that was as beautiful as any model in a magazine and shook her head. “You astound me sometimes, Annie. You really do.”
Chapter 51 - We’re rolling back prices
Dixton, Ohio
“Hito, wait. I know him! The one with the bandana around his neck,” Shere exclaimed.
Hito glanced up at her from behind the scope of the Springfield .308 and squinted. “Did you serve with him or something?”
Shere felt her blood pressure rise and could hear her pulse throb in her ears as she remembered Cincinnati. “I wouldn’t call it that.” She watched as Riley pulled his bandana up over his chin, through her binoculars.
Hito noticed the way her lips tightened in a grimace and knew instinctively that whatever it was, this wasn’t anything good. “Does he think he’s a train robber or something?”
Shere didn’t respond; her attention was wholly set on Dwight Riley.
She lowered the binoculars and remained silent. Hito didn’t press her.
Shere had never told Hito about Riley. She didn’t want anyone to think of her as a victim; especially Hito. Being a victim was for the weak. She had taken the worst that Private Dwight Riley could give her and now she thought that it was time to see if he was as resilient. It was time to see if he could take the worst that she had to give him. Her heart swam in the murky black pit of vengeance and it beat like a war drum in anticipation.
She put the binoculars to her eyes again. There were six others with him as they entered the front entrance to the Wal-Mart. She expected Givens, Dawson, Greer and Mason to be numbered among his squad, but from this distance she didn’t believe it to be them. If not, then Riley would have to be the sole beneficiary of today’s revenge.
“Want me to take any of them?” asked Hito, peering back into the scope and resting the crosshairs on the back of the straggler at the rear.
“I want the one wearing the black bandana. I want him to know who is killing him and I want to do it slow,” Shere said coldly, with a hardness of heart that Hito understood all too well.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked.
“Just watch them for now. If these men are with him, then it stands to reason that they are just as bad as he is and they deserve to die too.”
“Works for me,” agreed Hito.
The Wal-Mart was situated at the western end of Dixton, Ohio, a town of about twenty-eight thousand. Most, if not all, of that native population was dead and walking around the thoroughfares of the city limits hateful and very hungry. Smaller towns were generally overpopulated with the dead because they normally had small police departments and the National Guard and Reserves would have been sent to larger cities to better the odds of finding survivors.
“They are probably scavenging for supplies,” he said
“Yeah,” she agreed distractedly.
“We could disable their vehicle, which would leave them on foot. It’d be easier to track them that way without being spotted,” Hito ventured.
“Did they leave anyone at the doors to watch the entrance?” Shere asked.
Hito adjusted the scope slightly and took another look. “No... I don’t see anyone.”
“Stay here and cover me. I’ll do it.”
Hito had grown to trust the Marine and recognized that she was better trained, more knowledgeable and more capable than he was himself in many instances. She had always had his back when he took the lead, and she deserved the same respect. “Be careful,” Hito said looking back at her.
She stopped, turned back to him and leaned down and kissed him firmly. “Thanks, Old Man.”
He smiled up at her and she returned it, but hers was brief and he could see the anger raging just beneath the surface. “I got you covered,” he said.
“I know you do,” Shere said quietly, then left him in the third story window, shutting the door behind her.
From his vantage point, Hito watched her dart and weave through the abandoned cars. She steered clear of any vehicle that she could see contained one of the dead who were trapped in the confines of their seat belts. They might not be able to reach her but they could easily call for reinforcements.
As she reached the side of the main entrance to the megastore Hito saw from his vantage point that a large herd of the dead had emerged from the opposite side of the large Wal-Mart building. His trigger finger twitched and he rested it on the trigger guard to keep from unintentionally firing the weapon.
To shoot would kill some of the dead, but also draw them to his position. That was acceptable as he would be able to evade them. He had a knack for that, but the shot would also draw out the man that wore his black bandana over his chin like a train
robber from a Roy Rogers movie. That might give Shere’s position away and that was most definitely not acceptable.
Nervous perspiration beaded on Hito’s brow. He could not shoot, would not shoot until he was absolutely sure that it was his last resort.
Shere had slung the M4 across her back and held her sidearm, a Berretta 9mm in her right hand and a Marine K-bar in her left.
The men had arrived in a pair of black civilian Hummers. They were H-2’s, the second generation that was less militaristic and more status symbol. She peered into the side window of the one parked at the rear of the first. As she was debating on the best course of action to take a loud tinny metallic voice emanated from the vehicle.
You are standing too close to the vehicle. An alarm will sound in three seconds if you do not move away!
Shere did not hesitate. She was aware that the pre-alarm was loud enough in the silence of the ghost town to alert both the living and the dead. She heard a chorus of groans erupt from not far away and slammed the blade into the nearest tire. The alarm began to wail.
The tire did not go flat. As she yanked the blade back out of the rubber, it sealed itself.
Run flats, Shere thought and cursed to herself under her breath.
“Get out of there, Shere,” Hito urged nervously through clenched teeth. He watched her as she put her knife in its sheath and scrabbled back through the maze of wrecked, abandoned and burnt up hulks of cars.
Hito saw the camouflaged men emerge from the store just in time to confront the herd of growling and snapping dead. The men in digital camouflage began to spray bullets into the herd of corpses.
Hito scowled. Even though the men below were engaged with the dead, there was still a chance that they might catch a glimpse of Shere returning to this building. Shere had said that she wanted to kill them herself, but she hadn’t said anything about wounding them. His finger settled lightly on the trigger. He exhaled, held his breath and squeezed the trigger between heart beats. There was always something in that act that made him feel so powerful and it amazed him that he held so much power in one finger. Just the simple act of curling that finger back could unleash such wrath.