Gloria quietly rolled over onto her stomach and stifled the groan of pain from her multiple broken ribs. The giant, expensive, party dress had actually cushioned some of her body from the accident. None of the drug crazed cannibals from town had noticed her yet. Whatever her son and that ghoul Black had laced the Krokodil with had really done a number on the population of Passado. This was another mess her idiot son had made for her to clean up.
Gloria glanced over to where her Tahoe sat smashed into a Jeep. A large crowd of the hungry townspeople had surrounded it and was pounding on the windows trying to get inside. She watched them angrily beat at the glass and knew Blanca was nothing more than canned meat. Gloria knew she’d have to find herself another heir to raise up to run the empire.
There was a high-pitched scream from inside the SUV and Gloria could tell it was from that idiot Bruno. The cartel boss chuckled to herself, glad that he was about to be a meals on wheels for the mad crowd. The puta deserved it for freaking out like he did and ruining her dress and car. Wheezing from her broken ribs, Gloria could see more of the crazies wandering around the parking lot. Most of them were heading toward the crashed SUV. Gloria pulled herself up and quickly limped over to the cover of an old truck. Her left ankle was sprained pretty badly but she could still walk. Her body from head to toe was wracked in pain but she knew she had to make it to the hacienda and find Salazar so he could stop this madness.
Crouching low, she hobbled past the truck and found a big Lincoln Navigator to hide behind. Unaware of her presence, two of the foul-smelling druggies stumbled by. Once they had joined the crowd around the Tahoe, she moved as fast as she could toward the entrance to the compound interior. She heard movement from the entrance way and, thinking it was maybe more of the townspeople, dove behind a big planter for cover. As she hit the cobblestone ground, she sprained her right arm, sending a shockwave of pain throughout he already damaged body. She closed her mouth tightly, trying to muffle her screams.
Holding her damaged arm, she crawled to her knees and pulled herself closer to the planter. She rolled her eyes in anger as she saw it wasn’t a crazy hurrying through the entrance way, it was a tall man carrying a rifle case. Once the man had passed, Gloria stood up on wobbly legs and cursed. Seeing that she was clear of druggie cannibals, she stumbled through the small entrance way, dragging the remains of her big puffy party dress behind her.
Nero had heard all the wild noise in the courtyard. The gunshots and the screams. He was tempted to turn around and see if he could help but common sense got the best of him. He jogged toward the car lot and ran through the entrance archway, passing Gloria Camacho as she crouched semi-hidden behind a big planter, her overstuffed party dress almost giving her away.
Nero got a few feet inside when he stopped and noticed the chaos the parking lot had become. Crazed people, people he recognized from Passado, were acting strange and violent. What the hell is going on? he thought to himself.
Nero glanced over to where Tanya and Bailey had been parked and was relieved to see the Impala was still there. The former cartel man sprinted for the old muscle car. Two of the townspeople stumbled into Nero’s path, cutting him off. The ex-soldier knew both of the men who blocked his way. Right now they resembled a couple of demons more than the two farmers from Passado they had once been. The men’s eyes were lifeless and dried, black blood splattered their clothes. Their hungry faces also held a waxy, grey pallor. Nero was going to try and reason with them, but he saw there was nothing behind their empty black eyes. The men, snapping their jaws at Nero, reached out with claw-like hands and tried to grab him. Nero swung the rifle case hard at the closest man, striking him in the throat and causing his neck to snap and his head to droop down between the back of his shoulders.
“What the fuck?” Nero shook his head, not really believing what he was seeing. The first man now gave off the appearance of being headless as he stumbled forward reaching blindly for Nero. The ex-soldier used the rifle case to shove both of the crazies backwards. Nero quickly dropped the case to the ground and swiftly drew his handgun, flicking off the safety and chambering a round as he drew it into his chest.
Rapidly firing off two rounds, he struck the broken neck man in the heart, causing him to stagger back a few feet. Nero’s second shot had struck the other man in the chest and had only succeeded in driving him backwards. Both continued to come for him.
“What the fuck is this?” Nero fired again, striking the second man in the neck with the same negative results. He shook his head and aimed between the man’s eyes and squeezed the trigger. The man’s head exploded in a shower of dark blood and brain matter. As the crazed man tumbled to the ground, Nero turned his attention to the other one. Nero couldn’t get a clear shot at his head because it dangled between the crazed and ravenous man’s shoulder blades. Thinking quickly, he fired two shots into each of the man’s knees. Without a sound, the crazy fell forward on his stomach. Nero carefully stepped over the still moving maniac’s body. The man still snapped his jaws at Nero but it looked even weirder being upside down. It reminded Nero of that human/spider-headed alien from the movie ‘The Thing’.
The ex-soldier swiftly fired two shots into the man’s head with the theory that if it worked once he might as well try it again. The rounds blew off the top of the man’s head and he stopped moving.
“Holy shit!” Nero said in Spanish. “What the fuck was that?”
He wiped the sweat from his face and quickly glanced around the lot. More of the nasty smelling, demon looking crowd moved toward where Nero stood over the two corpses. He knew he wouldn’t make it over to the Impala before the voracious throng caught up to him and ripped him apart. Nero changed out magazines and dropped his backpack at his feet. An armless woman and a small child with a big chunk of flesh out its shoulder were the first ones upon him. With steady aim, Nero fired two rounds, one into each of the demons heads. Both flew backwards and crashed onto the ground, unmoving. Three of the maniacs that were right behind them tripped over their corpses and fell hard to the cobblestones. Unfazed, the crazies quickly scrabbled across the ground and headed right for Nero while two of the ravenous townsfolk staggered closely behind them.
Keeping calm, Nero took a couple of steps back and aimed down at the crazies near his feet. He fired three times, hitting the advancing maniacs in the head and splashing grey brain matter, black blood, and bone fragments on the group behind them. He raised the pistol up to fire on the other two demons that were still upright, when he realized he was surrounded. While he was dealing with the freaks that had first attacked him, a mob of the townspeople had been able to almost totally encircle him.
“Crap!” Nero pulled the pistol closer into his chest and tried to quickly figure the best way out. He only had five more rounds left in his magazine. Nero knew he had an M16 in the case by his feet but he wouldn’t have near enough time to get it ready to use. He fired another round into the jaw of the closest crazy. The lower part of the woman’s face disappeared in a flurry of flesh, blood, teeth, and bone. It still didn’t stop the woman so Nero swiftly placed a round in her forehead, sending her straight down to the cobblestones for good.
As the small horde closed in on him, Nero realized he may never see his daughters again and he was going to die to the muzak version of Sweet’s Ballroom Blitz; he wasn’t even going to get the courtesy of the real song.
Suddenly there was the loud roar of a big V8 engine as the old Impala burst through a line of the townspeople, tossing several of them into the air. One of the crazies was caught under the front tire as another one landed clumsily on the hood. The passenger's door flew open and Tanya jumped out clutching the .38 in her hand.
“Come on, Nero!” she shouted. “Get your ass moving!”
Without having to be told twice, Nero scooped up his backpack and gun case and made a sprint for the waiting car. He dove into the backseat as Tanya slid back into the front and pulled the door shut behind her. The Impala rocked violent as a wave of t
he crazed townspeople slammed against the outside of it. The demon on the hood started to angrily slap at the windshield. Black, blood streaked, Rorschach turkeys appeared on the glass as the crazy on the hood attempted to smash in the Impala’s windshield with its torn and ragged hands.
“Drive, Bailey!” Tanya shouted as she stared at the horrific faces that were pressing themselves against the car's windows. Bloody dirty hands slapped violently against the glass as the demons tried desperately to get inside.
“Hold on!” Bailey shifted the Impala into reverse and quickly backed up a few feet. The demon on the hood moaned as it tumbled onto the cobblestones below. There was a weird squishing sensation as she drove over one of the crazies that had fallen underneath the old muscle car.
“That’s so gross!” she said, throwing the Impala into drive and smashing the crazy under the tires once more.
“What the fuck is that?” Nero said in English as he popped open his gun case.
“That’s what happened to us in Passado.” Tanya turned a little in the front seat. “Same bunch of… of assholes.”
“They looked like demons. Hungry, angry demons.” Nero shoved three magazines for the rifle into his pockets then jammed the last one into the M-16’s receiver.
“Demons. That’s about right.” Tanya nodded.
“Look over there!” Baylie pointed through the blood splashed windshield.
Gloria Camacho’s wrecked Chevy Tahoe sat smashed into one of the big retaining walls of the parking lot. A crowd of the townspeople voraciously surrounded the vehicle, trying to get in. The driver's side window was smashed in and a tuxedo suited man was roughly yanked from inside and set upon by the group. All of the crazies that had been around the vehicle turned their attention to the screaming man and joined the others that were hungrily tearing him apart and feasting on his body parts.
“That’s sick!” Bailey glanced over at Tanya; her face had turned white as a sheet. “They’re eating him!”
Before anyone could say anything, the rear hatch of the SUV popped open and several pieces of luggage tumbled out followed by a young girl. The teenager got to her knees and looked around at the surrounding area. The crazed townspeople were scattered all over the parking lot. A big group of them were filing into the entrance to the compound.
“Stop!” Tanya shouted. “We can’t leave her!”
Bailey pulled the Impala as close to the girl as she could. A couple of cars and a group of the maniacal townspeople stood between them and the teenager. Tanya pushed open her door and jumped out, waving the .38 in front of her. One of the demons that appeared to have both her legs chewed off, creepily crab-walked on its stumps hungrily in Tanya’s direction. Before Nero could climb out of the backseat, the former exotic dancer had fired off a shot, striking the crawling demon in the chest. The round went through the crazies’ chest and out its back, not causing it to even pause for a brief second.
“Shoot it in the head!” Nero shouted as he quickly unfolded himself from the backseat of the Impala. Without another word, Tanya raised the .38 up and fired a round directly into the bridge of the nose of the crawling woman, blowing out the back of head in a shower of black goo.
“Gross!” Tanya said, looking for another target.
“Headshots are they only thing that seems to stop them,” Nero said, raising the old M-16 up to his shoulder.
The girl seemed to be frozen in her tracks with fear. None of the Passado demons had noticed her yet. Most of the hungry creatures were focused on the dwindling remains of the driver or the occupants of the Impala. Nero shot another of the demons in the head as it grew closer. “You hold them back and I’ll get the girl.”
“No.” Tanya shook her head and took a deep breath. “I only have four bullets left. You have a lot more in that big ass gun!” She then made a sprint for the teenager behind the wrecked SUV.
Nero shook his head at the woman’s stubbornness. She was right though; he didn’t like it, but she was right. The ex-soldier shot two more of the demons as Tanya charged over to where the girl was huddled. Nero fired again, taking out one of the faster moving crazies as it lunged for Tanya’s back. The demon stumbled a few feet before it fell headless to the ground.
Come on Tanya! he urged her on in his mind. He admired the American woman’s bravery; something he hadn't experienced in a long time.
Tanya kicked one of the demons as hard as she could in the groin. It was a signature move that always worked well for her in the club. This time though, the kick to the balls had no effect on the crazed man. She then used all her strength and slammed into the armless man with her shoulder as he staggered out from behind a big Ford F-350. The man tumbled backwards against the fender of the big truck. There was a sick, smashing sound as his head struck the vehicle and split open like a watermelon full of black pus. Tanya grimaced at the nasty sight. It reminded her of working at the club and having to push away some of the drunks that got handsy with her. Asshole. This parking lot was like a strip club out of hell. The drunken pervs always wanted to touch you, wanted your flesh. In the end there was no difference. The club ate your soul and your flesh.
Another round from the M16 smashed into the neck of one of the demons, ripping its head off. Tanya was thankful that Nero was back there giving her cover. The tall, muscular, Mexican definitely had some skills.
Gripping the .38 in her right hand, Tanya slid in behind the wrecked SUV and right next to the frightened girl. She could hear the crack of the M-16, just barely above the blaring muzak, as Nero shot more of the advancing demons. Tanya quickly put out a hand to the girl.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “Come with us. You’ll be safe.”
The girl looked up at Tanya and started to tremble and cry. The older woman pulled the teenager in tight and gave her a hug. “It’s fine. We need to go now,” she said.
Glancing over the girl's shoulder she could see a small mob quickly moving their way. Tanya stood up and helped the girl to her feet. “Can you run?”
“Yes.” the girl said in heavily accented English.
“Good!” She grabbed the girl by the shoulder and pulled her along behind her. “Run!”
"Come on! Come on!” Nero shouted as he continued to fire on the advancing demons. Both women were quickly making their way back to the Impala through the maze of parked cars and crazies.
Baylie nervously drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she glanced around looking for any of the ravenous maniacs. In her rear view mirror, she noticed two of the demonic townspeople rapidly stumbling up behind Nero’s position. Baylie also noticed one of the men was dragging his intestines behind him, causing her to swallow the bile that had risen in her throat.
“Nero!" Baylie shouted. “Behind you!”
He wasted no time in spinning around and snapped off two rounds at the advancing demons. One of the maniac’s heads exploded, the other was struck in the shoulder, driving it back a couple feet. Cursing at his bad aim, Nero fired again; this time stopping the angry man for good. Worried about the women, he turned back around just in time to see Tanya and the teenager bolt for the car. Nero put two more of the demons down as the woman sped past him squeezed into the back seat.
“Come on, Nero!” Tanya said, pulling the frightened girl in closer to her. “Quit fucking around!”
“What?” He fired off another couple rounds into the approaching crazies then climbed back into the passenger's seat. “Fucking around?”
“Everyone hold on!” Baylie shouted as she jammed on the gas pedal. The Impala lurched forward over one of the crawling maniacs and sped toward the giant parking lot's entrance gate. Nero quickly changed the magazine on the M-16 then glanced out the blood-streaked windshield. A crowd of the shambling demons were now blocking their exit.
“Fuck!” Nero said in Spanish as he cycled the rifle and started to roll down his window.
“I got this!” Baylie told him as she mashed the accelerator to the floor and aimed the Impala at the assem
bled group of ravenous demons. “Just hold onto your panties, ladies!” She winked at the big Mexican. “You too, Nero.”
“I think my shorts are up in me.” Nero said as he reached out to grab the dashboard for support.
IT’S A GOOD DAY, NO?
CAMACHO’S HACIENDA
Salazar rolled around on the cool tile floor of Camacho’s hacienda as he tried to pull himself free from the zip ties. Sweating, he rolled himself over to one of the big leather couches and used it to help support himself into an upright sitting position. Cursing, he mumbled through the speed tape that the Americans had slapped on his face. Seething with rage and anger, Salazar fruitlessly pulled at the ties that secured his hands behind his back and only succeeded in injuring his shoulder. The newly minted crime boss shook his head in frustration as sweat ran down the sides of his face. He could hear the gunshots and the screams coming from outside and that angered him more. What the hell was going on out there? All the sounds of battle were coming from the opposite direction the Americans had exited. Salazar slid himself up and onto the couch as more screams filled the outside. Taking in a deep breath, Salazar knew the Americans were lucky. If he hadn't been bound up, he would have hunted the Americans down and killed them all—deal or no deal. They had humiliated him in his own house so now they all would die for that. The big American that pistol whipped him would die so very slowly. Salazar cursed into his gag, knowing that none of it would happen because he was bound and gagged. He would need a miracle from Saint Malverde. The drug lord closed his eyes and prayed.
“Salazar?” a voice said from behind.
Salazar quickly opened his eyes to see that Saint Malverde had truly answered his prayers. Ramos, the one eared pastry chef had burst into the living room and found him tied up on the couch. “Salazar?”
Operation Zulu: Dos Page 29