“Hold on, listen,” she hissed, and the other two did so. There was a faint banging sound from inside the store, and she left the door to pick up a few metal planter sticks. “Don’t waste bullets unless you have to,” she said as she handed them to her comrades, holstering her gun. “Follow my lead. Ben, you stay behind Jeff.”
They nodded in agreement, and she opened the door, leading the way into the small store. There were four aisles of goods, candy and chips, with a small cooler of drinks to the right. The banging came from two zombies behind the counter, slamming into a closed windowed office door.
Sparks waved to Jeff and held up her metal rod, motioning that he should be ready with his. He joined her at the counter.
“Hey boys,” she said, and slammed her hand down on the wood, drawing the attention of their enemies.
The zombies screeched and ran full tilt at them, slamming their torsos so hard into the counter that their heads lurched forward. In unison, Sparks and Jeff stabbed forward, rods boring into brain.
“Bold move there,” Jeff commended as the bodies flopped to the floor.
Sparks lifted the hinged part of the counter and skirted behind to make sure the zombies were dead. “Well, after the bridge, it dawned on me that these things aren’t that bright. Figured this would work.” She winked at him.
The office door slammed open, causing the trio to startle and whip to the sight of a muscular man with white hair holding a pump action shotgun.
“Who in the everloving fuck are you assholes?” he demanded, voice gruff.
“Whoa, easy there old timer, we don’t mean you any harm,” Sparks replied, raising her palms to him. “These are my friends Ben and Jeff. I’m Sparks.”
“Aw hell, girl,” he lowered his weapon, a huge smile breaking out across his aged face. “I know you.”
“Yeah, she’s the one from the radio,” Ben put in, lowering his own hands.
“Radio?” The man furrowed his brow and shook his head. “What in the hell you talking about, boy? This here’s Lacy Sparks. I saw her whoop the Dudek Brothers’ asses in that Texas Death Match a while back to claim the championship belt. Man that cowbell’s a bitch, ain’t it?”
Sparks laughed, scratching the back of her head. “Yeah, you ain’t kidding, old timer.”
“You did what?” Jeff blurted.
She shrugged. “I’m also a pro-wrestler.”
“Alrighty then.” He simply said, unable to even be surprised anymore.
“Well little lady, you can call me Rufus,” the white haired man introduced. “But before we exchange any more pleasantries, it’d be good to secure the joint. Pretty much everyone has gotten the fuck outta dodge or they barricaded themselves into their homes to die in peace. But I think we’d all feel a lot safer knowing that we’re locked in.”
Jeff nodded. “Agreed.”
“Now if you fellas wouldn’t mind tossing these critters out the front door, I’ll get us some beverages.” Rufus motioned to the zombie bodies. “And it ain’t much, but I have some sleepin’ bags in the back. Probably not a good idea to be out after dark. And don’t worry ma’am, you can have my cot for the night.”
“Oh, that’s sweet, Rufus,” Sparks said, sincerity lacing her tone. “But you don’t have to give up your bed for me.”
“Well you done stole my heart after you landed a flying dropkick off of the top rope, so stealin’ my bed for the night ain’t no big deal,” he replied with a wink, and she chuckled.
“Thank you Rufus, you’re too kind.” She offered him a genuine smile.
He waved for her to follow him. “Come on, let’s go get you something to drink.”
“Everybody’s dinner okay?” Rufus asked, motioning to the microwaved burritos on the table. “I know it ain’t Taco Bell fancy, but I hope it works for ya.”
Jeff swallowed a huge mouthful. “It’s fantastic Rufus, thank you,” he said, and Ben simply raised his finger in an a-okay sign as he stuffed his face. Sparks nodded in agreement as she chased her own mouthful with beer.
Rufus cracked open a second beer, mouth set in a thin line. “It’s getting really bad out there, ain’t it?” he asked.
“End of the world bad, Rufus,” Sparks said. “End of the world bad.”
“It’s a damn shame,” he replied with a shake of his head head. “I know I ain’t got much, but I enjoyed most of my life and wasn’t quite ready for it to end.”
“Most of your life?” Jeff cocked an eyebrow. “What, were you married, too?” A chuckle rippled around the small apartment.
“Ha, I like this one.” Their white haired host waggled a finger at his guest. “Now, never quite made it that far I’m afraid. Had a girl when I was younger, but didn’t work out the way I’d hoped.”
“So what happened?” Ben asked.
“‘Nam happened,” Rufus replied with a shrug. “Did two tours in the jungle and didn’t come back the same. I didn’t blame her for leavin’ me, hell, I’d have left me too. She moved to the big city shortly after then, and my pops brought me into the family business. Been workin’ at this little country store ever since. I mean it ain’t the exciting life like being a pro-wrestler, but it worked for me.”
“Well Rufus, if you’ve wanted some excitement in your life, I think you’re about to get it.” Sparks finished her burrito and wiped her mouth, leaning back with her beer.
“Now Sparks, I gotta warn ya,” Rufus continued, “my doctor hasn’t given me the okay to do what you are proposing, but I’m totally willing to roll the dice. Frankly I can’t think of a better way to go out.”
“Had a little something different in mine, but just for the record,” Sparks said with a sly wink, “you wouldn’t survive the night with me.”
“Well, if you ever hear me beg for death, that’s what I’m askin’ for,” he replied with a wink of his own.
“Duly noted Rufus,” she said with a laugh, and then leaned forward with a sigh. “Back to my original point however, I think you should come with us when we continue our journey west in the morning.”
“I don’t know lil’ lady, it’s tempting.” He shook his head. “But I’d really hate to abandon this place.”
“You’ll get to shoot a lot of things,” Jeff interjected.
Rufus stroked his chin. “Will I get to blow shit up?”
Sparks and Jeff shared a look and a shrug.
“If the situation arises, yeah,” she agreed. “You’re officially our blowing shit up expert.”
“Well hell, I’m in,” Rufus replied, a grin erupting on his weathered face. “Once the sun comes up, we’ll throw everything we can in the truck and head up the road to the truck stop in Comfort. Once we’re gassed up we’ll head out on the highway.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Alright, that’s the last of it,” Jeff said as he heaved the last case of bottled water into the back of the truck. Rufus had a stash of a few months worth of MRE’s, which was a godsend for an apocalypse like this.
“Man, this is some good stuff,” Ben commented as he sipped at the large cup of coffee in his hand. “Ya’ll need to try this.”
“Oh ya like that, do ya?” Rufus asked. “It’s a Vietnam brand I fell in love with when I was over there. Been importing it since the seventies. It’s like crack in a cup.”
Jeff snapped his fingers. “I’ll have to get in on that.”
“And after we’re properly caffeinated, are we ready to hit the road?” Sparks asked.
“Almost,” Rufus replied. “Need y’all to follow me, if you will.” He led them around the store to a separate entrance that was padlocked tight. He unlocked it and tossed the chain aside, opening it into a storage room.
There was a massive gun safe inside, and after he punched in a multi-digit code he opened it to reveal a cache of weapons.
“Holy shit, Rufus,” Ben breathed.
The older man squared his shoulders. “Murica. Get some.” He turned to the trio, whose mouths were on the ground. “Well go on, don’t
be shy. Get you some weapons. Just leave the M-16 to me. That beauty kept me alive in the jungle, so kinda hoping it does the same for me in this situation.”
Jeff reached out and grabbed the AR-15, handing it over to Sparks immediately. “Here, between the three of us I feel confident in saying that you are going to put that to the best use.”
“Not going to argue that,” she agreed, giving him a little salute.
He grinned. “Hey now.”
“Did I not save your ass in the stairwell with only a handgun? Imagine what I can do with this.” She raised an eyebrow.
He nodded. “Point taken.”
The guys loaded up the rest of the weapons into the back of the truck, stuffing ammo in between cases of water. Rufus hopped up into the driver’s seat and Sparks put a hand on Ben’s arm as he started to climb into the bed of the truck.
“You ride shotgun,” she said.
“Thanks, but I’ll be alright in the back,” he replied.
“It wasn’t a request.” Sparks shook her head. “I’m a better shot than you are, and if we get surrounded I’m going to need to be able to get to the target.” He nodded and she clapped him on the back as he hopped into the cab next to Rufus.
Jeff reached down and took Sparks’ hand, pulling her up into the bed with him.
“So, when were you going to tell me you were a pro-wrestler?” He asked in a teasing tone as they took their seats against the back window of the cab.
She shrugged. “You’re a middle-aged man living in rural Texas, I kind of assumed you already knew.”
“Eh, I’ll buy that,” Jeff agreed. He smacked the roof of the truck and Rufus punched the accelerator, taking them towards Comfort.
The journey was short, but as soon as the truck hit the I-10 the road wasn’t serene and quiet any longer. Sparks and Jeff popped to one knee and readied their guns.
There were several cars on the side of the highway, some burned out, some overturned, but all off to the side of the road.
Rufus drove slowly towards the truck stop, Sparks and Jeff on high alert. There was a large military style personnel carrier with almost a dozen 55 gallon drums that someone was filling with gas.
A shot rang out, causing Rufus to slam on the brakes, and then eight men in camouflage fatigues stepped out from behind various positions of cover. They aimed their rifles, and the tallest of the crew stepped forward.
“What the fuck, man?” Rufus poked his head out of the window. “We just need a tank of gas and we’ll be on our way.”
“Sorry old timer,” the tall dark haired soldier replied with a shake of his head. “But you aren’t going to need that gas. Because we’re taking your truck and everything in it.” He motioned to the men flanking him and they started to move forward.
Sparks popped up, leaning on the top of the truck, aiming her gun. “You ain’t taking shit, soldier boy.”
The man who’d spoken—clearly the leader—chuckled. He held up his hand to stop his men from moving any further.
“Oh, isn’t that cute.” He sneered. “A woman who thinks she’s tough because she’s got a gun. Tell me sweetheart, have you bothered to look at your predicament? We have you flanked and outgunned. What do you think you’re going to do, exactly? Take me out? Well I hope you’re one hell of a shot because…” He smacked his chest. “Kevlar, bitch. So it’s headshot or nothing.”
Sparks yawned. “You done yapping?”
“By all means,” he said with a flourish. “The floor is yours.”
“Well, upon further review, I’m guessing you guys are wannabe soldier boys given the physique on some y’all,” she said and cocked her head. “Looks like the last thing they took out was the Country Kitchen buffet. And to answer your other questions, no, I’m not aiming to take you out. I am, however, aiming at the dozen barrels of highly explosive liquid you have sitting in the open not ten feet from where you’re standing. So if any of these fat fucks take a single step towards me, we all go up in flames.”
He contemplated for a moment before signaling for his men to move back. “So, now what?” he asked.
Before she could respond, there was the roar of an engine in the distance, back from the way the quartet had come.
“Given that your boys look like they just shit themselves,” Sparks deduced, “I’m going to assume the people coming up aren’t on your side. So I’d suggest you take what you’ve gotten, consider it a parting gift, and fuck right on off.”
“B Company, on the truck,” the fake soldier barked and they all piled on their vehicle. “Let’s move out!” He glared at Sparks as the truck sped off, gasoline tanks sloshing.
Two pickup trucks screeched in on either side of Rufus, and a middle aged man with a mustache rolled down the passenger’s side window.
“Y’all need to follow us,” he demanded.
“Come on man.” Rufus threw his hands up. “We just need a tank of gas.”
“It wasn’t a request,” the man replied. “Now I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt that you weren’t with those militia assholes, but Principal Dan needs to confirm it before we can get you refueled.”
“It’s alright Rufus,” Sparks called down. “Let’s take a ride. One Mexican Standoff is all I can handle before breakfast.”
Rufus sighed. “You the boss.”
The mustached man waved his truck forward, and it sped off. Rufus followed, the other wary truck sticking around to set up a makeshift guard post around the gas pumps.
Sparks sat back down beside Jeff.
“You know you’re full of shit, right?” The skinhead asked as she joined him.
She raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“Come on, you’re a highly trained officer of the law,” he scoffed. “You know that a bullet can’t ignite gasoline. Hell, at that range I’d be surprised if you could even get a bullet through those oil drums.”
“Well, you know that, and I know that,” she replied, a twinkle in her eyes. “But after looking at them, I assumed they got all their explosion knowledge from Schwarzenegger movies, so for all they knew I was able to blow them all to hell.”
“I swear to christ I’m stealing you a wheelbarrow for Christmas, assuming we live that long.” Jeff laughed.
She raised an eyebrow. “Why a wheelbarrow?”
“Well you need something to help you carry those gigantic balls around,” he replied, and Sparks guffawed.
A few miles north of the gas station, Rufus followed their guide into the parking lot of a relatively new looking high school. It was a hive of activity, pickup trucks filled with supplies coming and going, heavily armed people milling about.
They parked at the far end, away from the bulk of the people.
“Alright,” the man who’d originally spoken said as he slid out of his truck. Rufus followed his lead, as did Ben, and Sparks and Jeff hopped down. Their four new acquaintances faced them in a line, the two sides standing tall. “Before we take you to Principal Dan we’re going to need your weapons.”
“Yeah, that isn’t going to happen,” Sparks spoke up.
The man put his finger on the trigger. “I’m not asking.”
“Look man, use some common sense here.” She rolled her eyes. “If we were going to attack you it would have been on the road while you were isolated. All we wanted was a tank of gas, and you insisted we go to the Principal’s office first. And that’s fine, we’ll jump through your hoops to get what we need.”
He tapped his finger on the trigger. “Again. I’m not asking.”
“You’re also not listening,” Sparks replied. “We don’t know you, we don’t trust you, and in case you missed the headline of the day, we’re in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse. So the only way I’m giving up my gun is if you shoot me.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, and then he grunted. “Fine. Walk in front of us with your hands away from your weapons and we won’t have a problem.”
“Fantastic,” Sparks said, voice lighter.
“We’re making some headway here. So where we going?”
“Head to the tent in the middle of the lot,” he instructed.
She extended her arm in front of her like a courteous date. “Shall we, gents?” The boys started walking, and she kept pace with them as their new acquaintances followed.
A man with sandy brown hair in a bright red polo shirt stood six feet tall barking orders like a General during war time. It looked a bit ridiculous with his khaki pants and the high school crest, but his personality commanded respect as he directed the busy bees around him.
“Alright, the last report I got said that the two teams clearing out the neighborhood east of Highway 87 was running into some problems with the apartment complexes,” he said to the group of armed men and women standing around a folding table. There was a map on it and he pointed to the area he was talking about. “They lost a few people securing the houses and the zombie population was way higher than anticipated at the apartments. I need y’all to head up there and back them up.”
The oldest male in the group nodded and motioned to the others, who followed him out from under the big patio tent.
“Principal Dan,” the mustached man piped up.
Dan sighed, not looking up from his map. “What is it, Cody?”
“Caught these people trying to steal gas from the truck stop,” Cody said. “Don’t know if they’re militia or not.”
“Well given we were in a goddamn armed standoff with the militia when you found us, it’s a good fucking bet that we’re not,” Rufus snapped gruffly.
“Cody?” Dan asked.
“We got there as the militia was driving off,” the mustached man replied. “But yeah, it appears they weren’t exchanging pleasantries.”
Dan stepped around the table. “Thanks Cody, I’ll take it from here.” He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the table. “Please forgive him for being a little overzealous, it’s been a rough few days.”
Jeff barked a laugh. “That’s an understatement.”
“I’m Principal Dan, used to run this High School,” he introduced. “Now I kind of run all of this.”
“This is Jeff, Ben, and that cantankerous coot there is Rufus,” Sparks motioned to her crew. “You can call me Sparks.”
Dead Texas (Book 2): No Comfort Page 2