“Oh, we don’t put weapons on the table,” Adelaide said, smiling sweetly, noticing where Floyd had laid Clyde. “We like to be civilized here.”
Floyd picked up his shotgun and leaned it up against one of the chairs, feeling like a fifth grader scolded by the teacher. Raul handed Mikki and him each a glass. The lemonade was amazingly good, especially after drinking straight water or powdered juice or cocoa beverages packed into MREs for so long.
“Where do you get the lemons from?” Mikki asked.
Adelaide laughed and said, “Oh, we don’t grow lemons. We have an abundant supply of frozen concentrate. Our solar panels get us all the power we need. Except at night, of course. Or on cloudy days…or when it rains. Jimmy set us up with battery power for that but it doesn’t last very long, so we tend to retire early. But it’s a bright, sunny day today, so we are free to enjoy life’s bounty.”
Suddenly a shot rang out from the roof. Adelaide was highly annoyed. “Raul! Must you do that now?”
“Sorry, Miss Adelaide! Got a good shot at one of those things out there. He’s down now, Miss Adelaide.”
“Well, try to be more quiet about it! We’re trying to have a conversation here!” Turning back to Floyd and Mikki, she sweetly asked, “So what brings you here to our little community?”
“Well, we’re on our way to a place called New California Haven,” Floyd explained. “Supposed to be one of the last uninfected places in America.”
“It ain’t too far from here,” Mikki chimed in.”
“Ain’t?” Adelaide asked.
“No, it ain’t. Only a couple days’ drive, if the freeways is good.”
Adelaide was clearly flustered, but managed to regain her composure. “My dear child, we don’t say ‘ain’t.’ It isn’t proper. Didn’t they teach you that in school?”
“I ain’t never finished school,” Mikki said, with her biggest, most charming smile, knowing that using that word was like sticking a knife into Adelaide’s self-righteousness.
“Oh, dear. How unfortunate for you. Such a pretty thing you are, too. Someone really must teach you about manners.” Adelaide tried to diffuse the tension with a jocular laugh. It didn’t work.
Mikki pondered whether to the slap the bitch or unleash a stream of verbal profanities that would leave her speechless. She correctly guessed that Floyd wouldn’t approve of her taking a machete to the old broad’s neck.
Fortunately, Raul interrupted her thoughts before she could make a decision, shouting from the roof, “Mr. Bob is back, Miss Adelaide!”
Floyd thanked God for the impeccable timing. He was watching Mikki closely, and knew she was about to erupt like Mount Vesuvius all over the older woman.
“Well! What have we here?” Bob asked, as he joined the party. Like the others, he was dressed like a Hawaiian Beach Club reject, with short pants, high knee socks and deck shoes. A young Latino boy was carrying his bag of golf clubs and a pair of spiked golf shoes, in addition to two pistols tucked into the waistband of his pants. Three other older white men with Bob introduced themselves, and Adelaide momentarily lost control of the conversation again.
Bob held up a small bag of apples. “Look what I got! Tree is really blossoming this year! Still can’t get to the last four holes. Too many weeds and the grass is all overgrown. When you hit a ball into the rough, it’s really rough!” The other men laughed loudly at that. Apparently it was quite funny, for some reason.
“I have to go wash these. Would you like to help me?” he asked Floyd and Mikki.
“I would!” Mikki volunteered. She jumped up, laid Bonnie on the table, and exited from the crowd as fast as she could. Floyd grabbed the shotgun and put it next to his before Adelaide could say anything.
“Well, alright then,” said Bob, smiling, as he led the way into the house.
When they were inside, he shut the sliding glass door and Mikki asked, “You sure your wife won’t mind? She said she don’t like guns in the house,” referring to the four pistols on her belt.
“Oh, you have to forgive Adelaide. Old girl can’t cope with what happened in the world. I’m not nearly as uptight as she is.”
He led her to a stainless steel sink in a back room and set down the bag of apples. He pulled a bowl out of the cupboard and turned on the water. Bob pulled out an apple, washed it, and dropped it gently into the bowl. Then he gestured for Mikki to do the same.
“She sure don’t seem to know what’s goin’ on,” Mikki agreed, as she grabbed an apple and started rinsing it under the water. “Mention zombies to her and she goes all buggy like they don’t exist.”
“Yes, that’s not her favorite subject. Best not to talk about it with her.”
“Where I been in the real world, you don’t deal with it and you end up dead.”
“Well,” Bob laughed. “You look pretty alive to me. I’ll bet you’ve seen all sorts of things out there. Young girl like you. Is Floyd your man?”
“Not really. We is more partners in stayin’ alive, I guess you’d say. Not sure what he thinks or feels about me.”
“Well then, I can tell you how I feel about you.” Bob tried to move in closer to Mikki and she backed away. “Oh, come now,” Bob reassured her. “You see what a good thing we have going here. My wife and I run the place, and I run my wife. She’ll never admit it, but she knows it’s true. What I say goes, and I could easily find a place in our little community for a pretty little thing like you. Keep you safe. You’d never have to worry. And like I said, I’m not nearly as uptight as my wife.”
Bob tried to throw his arms around her and kiss her. Mikki deftly stepped to one side, grabbed his finger and pulled his arm around behind his back, pulling the finger just to the point of breaking, while causing serious pain.
“I know how to keep myself safe, thank you very much! Now, if I screamed real loud that you tried gettin’ funny with me, who do you think would get in here first to cut your balls off? Floyd or your wife?”
“Please! Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything! Really!”
Mikki let him go, spun him around and threw his back up against the wall. She grabbed an apple and held it up in front of his face.
“If you ever so much as look at me again, I’m gonna shove this apple so far up your ass, it’ll take a week for you to crap it out! You understand me?”
“Yes! Yes! I’m sorry!” he stammered.
“The only reason you ain’t cut into little pieces on the floor right now is it might upset my friend out there. So watch your mouth and watch your hands!”
Mikki picked up the bowl of clean apples, blew him a flirty kiss, and headed back outside like nothing had happened, swishing her ass as provocatively as possible on the way out. Bob came out a minute later smiling and blustering about what a wonderful day he had on the golf course. He gave his wife a big kiss on the cheek. Floyd couldn’t help but notice that Bob’s face was more flushed and he seemed to be sweating more now than when he first returned from the golf course. The look on Mikki’s face was purely angelic, indicating absolutely nothing had happened. That’s how Floyd knew something was up.
Adelaide didn’t seem to be fooled, either. “Well, I’m sure you two would like to be on your way,” she said, looking uneasily at Mikki. She put two pieces of paper in front of Floyd and Mikki and said, “Just leave your forwarding address and we will notify you once we discuss your application for residency here at the next meeting.” It took a moment for Floyd’s brain to comprehend the meaning of that statement.
“Um, actually,” Floyd explained, once he had regained control of his vocal cords, “We were thinking you might want to know about New California Haven,” Floyd explained, “If we make it there, maybe they can relocate you.”
“Oh, heavens! Why would we want to do that? We have everything we need right here! Raul makes the most wonderful fish dinners, with sea salt and lemon pepper. Jimmy keeps the power running. Carlos tends the golf course and we have the highest quality friends here you could want!”
&nb
sp; “A lot of your solar panels are cracked,” Floyd explained, looking at Bob. He knew he’d get nowhere with Adelaide. “Unless you got a steady supply of replacements, they ain’t—aren’t—gonna last you much longer.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, son. We’ll get by,” Bob answered, still overly cheerful.
“But...” Floyd started to argue, but this time it was Mikki’s turn to interrupt.
“We really must be going now, if you will both be so kind as to please excuse us. We have had a lovely afternoon here. Thank you so much for your most gracious hospitality!”
Everyone gaped at Mikki with their mouths wide open, especially Floyd. For all the world, Mikki sounded like a debutante queen accepting her crown at the ball. Her diction was perfect. Adelaide was seriously considering actually accepting her application.
“Close your mouth, now, Mr. Floyd. Although we have enjoyed ourselves immensely, it is time we take our leave from these good people. Do have a lovely evening! And thank you both again for such a wonderful afternoon!”
Mikki held up an apple to show Bob, and winked before taking a large bite. She laid the apple on the table, picked up Bonnie and headed out. Floyd grabbed Clyde, bowed briefly, and muttered some kind of thanks as they headed for the boat.
Catching up to her, Floyd whispered, confused, “I never heard you talk like that before.”
Mikki whispered back, “I know how to speak proper, Floyd. It just ain’t me.”
From out of nowhere, Raul dropped down off the roof and helped them untie the boat. “Is what you said about that place in California true?” he asked in a hushed whisper.
“Seems to be. We’re headed out there now,” Floyd answered.
“Why don’t you come with us?” Mikki offered. “Just jump in the boat and let’s go.”
Floyd looked at her like she’d gone crazy. They barely had enough room for two people in the truck. There was no way they could take three. He needn’t have worried, though, as Raul refused.
“No. You don’t understand. They took me in. Give me this gun. They feed me and keep me safe from those things out there.”
“It looks to me like you’re the one keeping them safe. And they treat you like crap,” Mikki insisted.
“Maybe, but what else can I do?”
“What else can you do?” Mikki stared right into his eyes. “Raul, remember: you’re the guy with the gun!”
They pulled away from the dock and started pedaling back to shore. Raul seemed lost in his own thoughts as he waved goodbye. After a while, he climbed back up to assume his position on the roof.
“I’m guessin’ you’re glad to be outta there,” Floyd commented, dryly.
“Tight-ass old bitch! She’s lucky I ran outta grenades.”
Floyd smiled. He could just imagine.
Chapter Fifty
“No more pit stops, Floyd! Let’s just get to this California place and see what’s there, OK?”
“Fine with me. Of all the things we been through, I think that was the creepiest.”
“This from a man with a zombie bear head mounted on his hood.”
“Damn straight!”
“Them boat people ain’t got no clue what’s waitin’ for ‘em in the real world. ‘Denial’ ain’t just a river in Egypt.”
“We don’t say ‘ain’t.’ It isn’t proper. Didn’t they teach you that in school, young lady?”
Floyd laughed and Mikki punched him in the arm, hard. He swerved a bit on the road but quickly regained control of the wheel. He knew she wasn’t really mad at him. If she had been, she would have used a knife.
They raided a local gas station, filled the tank and all the gas cans, grabbed a few snacks off the shelves (and lollipops for Mikki), and were back on the road again. They even picked up a bunch of Chocodiles! Individually wrapped Zombie Cakes covered in chocolate! Whoever came up with that idea should get a medal. Floyd and Mikki both had a new hero.
Floyd was driving and Mikki chattered away while playing Angry Birds on the iPhone, the two RPG launchers on the floor of the cab at her feet. “So what happened back there between you and Bob, anyway?” he finally asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
“I can guess. I’m just wondering why you left him in one piece. Are you turning mellow in your ‘old age’?”
“Didn’t want to bring the whole town down on us, or whatever that was. McHale’s Navy? Tim Conway would have fit right in. Anyway, gut him and I prob’ly woulda had to kill ‘em all. Or scare the shit out of ‘em so bad they’d all have heart attacks. Either way, I didn’t think you’d approve.”
Floyd slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt. “What did you just say?”
“I said, ‘I didn’t think you’d approve.’ Why?” Mikki was shocked and concerned.
“You mean you actually considered what I might think about something before you went all batshit on someone?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Well, that’s a first! Maybe you are mellowing in your old age.” Floyd threw the truck back into drive and hit the gas again.
“Well, half the time, when I’m goin’ batshit on someone, it’s to save our asses!” Mikki protested.
“And the other half of the time?”
Mikki smiled. “Ah, hell. That’s just for fun.”
Floyd laughed. In a perfect world, a girl like Mikki would have thought playing Dungeons and Dragons was fun. Or Risk. Or searching You Tube for the latest funny animal videos. Or sneaking out to kiss some boy without her parents knowing. But that world had disappeared two years ago. Now, the world was dark and life was hard. Mikki had taken reality’s harsh lessons and learned to thrive against all odds. And yet, she still kept her sense of humor (incredibly warped though it was). And the fact that she actually cared about what he thought moved Floyd in a way that he never expected. It really meant a lot to him.
Floyd’s thoughts were interrupted as Mikki screamed, “Yeehaw! Finally! Made it to the next level! Stupid pigs in helmets.”
Yup! That was Mikki! The mind of a serial killer trapped in a teenage body. Like some brain transplant experiment gone horribly wrong. Cold as ice, tough as nails, vicious, ruthless, and pig-headed, with a playful heart of pure gold. She could out-cuss a sailor and beat a biker in a bar fight, yet she’d take pity on a zombie kitten, play a video game for hours, and cry over the death of an old man she barely knew. She was your best friend if you treated her right and your worst enemy if you pissed her off.
Floyd was much simpler. He had been a working man all his life. As a boy, he did his chores. At the auto shop, he did the jobs he was given. He never complained; he just got the work done. It was no different now. Take out the trash, chop some wood, replace a carburetor, shoot a zombie in the head, kill a few raiders—it was all the same to him. He did the job he had to do, whatever it was. If he had to kill someone to protect himself or someone else, he would. But he didn’t like it.
Unlike Mikki, Floyd avoided a fight whenever he could, even if the odds were in his favor. He understood that fickle fate was nobody’s friend and nothing in life was predictable. Anything could go wrong at any moment and really screw up your life—or end it.
Mikki took the opposite approach. She’d jump in head first and claw her way through any situation on sheer guts and determination alone. She avoided running from a fight unless it was crystal clear that there was absolutely no chance of winning.
Mikki wasn’t stupid or suicidal, but her ego and her anger could easily override her brain, getting her into battles she didn’t need to fight. She knew when danger was real, but danger neither frightened nor deterred her. She was incredibly smart and quick witted, acting on instinct, while Floyd preferred to plan things out.
In the end, Floyd figured that’s why they made such a good team. They looked at life from completely different perspectives. Floyd would plan things out, and if the plan went to shit, Mikki would find some way to pull their asses out of the fire. Somehow, that gave them the ed
ge. Somehow, they had managed to work together to find the right solution for any problem, even if they drove each other nuts in the process.
And Floyd no longer worried about his private parts ending up on Mikki’s trophy belt someday. He trusted her. He had learned the hard way not to trust anyone but himself, especially a woman, but he trusted her. That was the one thing they in common, and it was the most important. They trusted each other.
“Theoretically,” Floyd began, “We should be in Long Beach in five hours, assuming the roads are all clear.”
“Ha! When does that ever happen? ‘Theoretically,’ we shoulda been there days ago.”
“Can’t argue with that. I’m waitin’ to see that the hell else will blow this trip all to shit.”
“Speaking of blowin’ shit up. I still gotta get me more grenades.”
“And how the hell are we gonna do that? Find some army depot and spend weeks shootin’ up brain-eaters, poking into every building to try and find something that’ll go ‘boom’?”
“Nah, I guess not. Maybe if I pray to Saint Margaret, she’ll find me somethin’.”
“I don’t think it works that way, Mikki. Pray to God for hand grenades? Might as well write a letter to Santa Claus.”
“Hey, don’t you go bustin’ on Santa, Floyd! You’ll get coal in yer stockin’. Besides, it cain’t hurt none.”
“Well, we gotta find a place to stay the night, anyway. Sun’s startin’ to go down and I don’t want to head into some new place at night.”
“We could just stay in the car on the Interstate.”
“Yeah, if you want to sleep like a sardine crammed into a little can. Just keep your eyes open and maybe we’ll see somethin’.”
It took a couple more hours, but they finally saw a big road sign that said, “Welcome to Californ.” Apparently, a chunk of the sign had fallen off. Another state, another big unknown.
The road was pretty clear, as usual. When the contagion started, people generally got infected in a city. That meant they either jumped in their cars to head out and crashed not long after, or they got infected after leaving their cars, once they arrived in the city. Zombies weren’t the best drivers and never made it far onto the interstate. Living drivers didn’t stop. Only when you were near a city, town, or tourist attraction of some kind did you start to see a lot of cars stalled or crashed on the road, usually in the outbound lanes.
Floyd & Mikki (Book 1): Zombie Hunters (Love Should Be Explosive!) Page 24