by K. E. Radke
No fence marked where the property ended, and while it was a farm house, there wasn’t a matching barn or any loitering animals. The air seemed crisper and it was true country living with nothing but the bugs to keep you company. Long grasses had taken over the field at knee level, except for the range. Someone kept the grass cropped short, keeping the area well manicured so whoever was using it could clearly see their targets.
Some of the targets were lying down on the ground while others were up ready to be shot at. Lincoln handed Wyatt brand new target sheets and they both walked out into the field to hang them in place.
“Are we allowed to be here?” Wyatt asked his voice much louder without any noise to counter it.
“I wouldn’t have brought you if we weren’t,” Lincoln said on his way back to unload the SUV.
An engine turned over in the distance and a Cadillac roared down the road toward them making an abrupt stop. Samuel popped out of the car, “Well, well, well, took you long enough son. My wife wouldn’t let me leave the house since you told her to stay home. It’s like being locked up with the energizer bunny.”
“Samuel, you know Wyatt,” Lincoln said as a greeting near the trunk of his SUV with Wyatt next to him.
“The golden boy,” Samuel murmured knowingly with a grin spread across his face.
Wyatt had never seen the man out of his cowboy suit, Samuel looked younger in jeans and a green button up shirt. “Golden boy?” Wyatt questioned.
“He doesn’t know?” Samuel chuckled loudly and gave Wyatt the old I-know-something-you-don’t smirk. “The perfect husband? The one all women want and swoon over.”
“Stop embarrassing yourself Samuel,” Lincoln grunted feigning embarrassment for the man. “No one says swoon.” He was chuckling behind his SUV, taking out the gun cases as Samuel gave Wyatt a hard time.
Wyatt could feel his face burning, “Me?”
“Keep up Wyatt,” Lincoln gave him a serious glance, trying to keep a concerned expression. “Or you’ll give Samuel a reason to make fun of me.”
“No one thinks about me like that,” Wyatt’s face had turned a dark shade of red.
“He really has no idea,” Samuel fathomed and took two gun cases out of his car before treading toward the barricade. “That’s okay, Lincoln doesn’t either.”
“Shut. Up. Samuel.” Lincoln emphasized each word with a hint of scarlet easing up his neck.
“What doesn’t Lincoln know?” Wyatt asked glad for the subject change.
“The young ladies love him. Can’t get enough of the grumpy, mature stallion working the gun counter,” Samuel paused to put his earplugs on and then placed ear muffs over them after he set down his cases. Lincoln threw a pair of ear muffs at Wyatt and put a pair on himself.
Samuel continued a lot louder than before, “The macho-mysterious-not-a-care-in-the-world atmosphere he brings everywhere he goes is suffocating, but it’s a young lady magnet. I will say the day does go by faster when there’s something pretty to look at every day.”
Wyatt raised his eyebrows giving Lincoln a surprised expression, “And here all the women in the neighborhood thought you were gay.”
Lincoln had his back to Wyatt and felt his shoulders droop when Samuel guffawed, placing his gun down so he didn’t accidently shoot himself from laughing so hard.
Still laughing between breaths Samuel said, “Noah will get a kick out of that one.”
“Noah and I are no longer on speaking terms,” Lincoln growled.
To lighten the mood Wyatt grinned, “Wait until you hear why.”
“He wouldn’t say what he did to piss you off… ,” Samuel trailed off picking up his gun again firing several rounds.
In between shots Samuel heard, “He. Drank. My. Whiskey.” Lincoln’s voice rumbled with anger.
Samuel stopped shooting and glanced up grimly, “With permission?”
“No.”
“You don’t drink another man’s whiskey,” Samuel said seriously shaking his head in disbelief.
Wyatt appeared confused. It’s just whiskey, he thought.
“If I would have known I wouldn’t have called him to let him know you were here,” Samuel went back to his gun, shooting off several more rounds drowning out Lincoln’s curses and angry shouts toward him.
Lincoln set the weapons on the barricade for Wyatt. “Anything new?” Samuel asked eyeing the gun cases laid open setting his gun down to take a peek at theirs.
“Everything is new,” Lincoln grinned. “Tell him what you brought Wyatt.” He was trying to show off his new student. Testing the knowledge he bestowed earlier on Wyatt to see if he was actually paying attention.
“The golden boy has guns?” Samuel raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Let’s see it.”
“I have a H&K VP9, a Mossberg 500 shotgun, and a M14 sniper rifle,” Wyatt said proudly remembering all the names. He’d been repeating them in his head since they left Lincoln’s house.
“Isn’t that a vintage beauty,” Samuel signaled he wanted to pick up the sniper and Wyatt nodded. “She feels good.” He looked through the scope. “I’m jealous of the golden boy.”
“He’s going to need help sighting it in. It’s his first time,” Lincoln revealed loading a magazine.
“Let’s pop that cherry!” Samuel hit Wyatt on the back excitedly.
Samuel showed him several ways to shoot the sniper rifle. Wyatt preferred having it on the stand and Samuel guided him through all the steps several times to make sure he understood. He was much easier to work with than Lincoln.
After getting comfortable with all three weapons Wyatt reloaded and started aiming at the target. He focused on specific areas to see if he could hit the same spot. About an hour in, his fingers were sore from loading magazines, but he was determined to keep practicing because his aim was nowhere near Lincoln’s or Samuel’s.
While all three of them were reloading Wyatt asked Lincoln, “Where did you learn to shoot?”
“My mom. Toughest lady alive.”
“Where is she?”
“Alzheimer home in Dallas.”
“Is she still there? With everything happening?” Wyatt asked shocked. He knew that would be an extremely difficult situation, taking care of someone with an unstable mind.
Lincoln’s gaze dropped to the ground clearly feeling guilty, “She swore if I disobeyed her last wish and tried to save her, she’d have clarity long enough to beat my dead body before she died.”
“Your own mother told you that?” Wyatt asked incredulously.
“My favorite person in the whole wide world.”
“And your father?” Wyatt prodded.
“Dead.”
“What did he die of?”
“Loving too many women while being married.”
“Are you telling me your mother killed your father?” Wyatt asked skeptically.
“That’s what she says when I go to visit her. Looks me in the eye and says ‘I killed you you son of a bitch’. She calls me by my dad’s name. I guess I resemble him a bit.”
“His mama had a lot of passion,” Samuel butt in. “But the woman was crazy—,” he glanced at Lincoln’s face. Lincoln was glaring at him flaring his nostrils like a bull ready to charge. Samuel continued, “About Lincoln. Crazy about her son.”
“So you’re a mama’s boy?” Wyatt teased lightly.
“Call it what you will, but my mama is the reason I’m alive today and I don’t ever cross her. And neither will anyone else while I’m still alive. She made it clear I was to leave her be, so I will do as she says.”
They heard the monstrous truck thundering down the road before it appeared. In a cloud of dust, blasting dirt and rocks into the air he came to an abrupt stop. Noah stood up in his truck gazing down at all of them over his door, “Lincoln, you’re not answering my calls or texts.”
Lincoln growled, the threatening noise coming deep from his gut as he slipped his magazine into the MP5 9mm turning his back on Noah. With clenched teeth he aimed
and pulled the trigger until there were more holes than paper making up the target. When the gun clicked signaling it was out of bullets Noah shouted slamming the truck door closed, “Alfredo send’s his regards. I have all of your chickens, bought and paid for, including the feed.”
Samuel glanced from man to man but Lincoln stayed silent, changing to the Uzi so he could drown out anything else that came out of Noah’s mouth.
“If you choose to piss anyone off, best not be Lincoln. He holds a grudge like his mother holds a pair of balls once she’s got her fingers around them. In a vise, and forever,” Samuel whispered to Wyatt after pulling the ear muff away so Wyatt could hear him clearly.
“I’ll just leave them here for you as a parting gift, but I warn you they might not all fit in the Land Cruiser,” Noah shouted his voice lilting smugly. It was obvious to everyone Lincoln would have to say something to Noah if he wanted his chickens delivered to his house. The ramp was being shoved out from the back of Noah’s truck, metal sliding on metal before it hit the ground. Chickens clucked and feathers flew through the air as Noah push the crate toward the edge.
Cursing under his breath that he was forced to acknowledge Noah’s presence Lincoln yelled, “Stop! Take them to my house and unload them there.”
Hidden in the bed of his truck, Noah wiped the grin off his face before someone caught him smiling. “Not a problem,” Noah yelled back. “I brought something else,” Noah sidled up against his truck maneuvering around it like a monkey. Jumping off the side he opened the door to his truck and pulled out an expensive bottle of whiskey. He watched Lincoln and Samuel eye it greedily. Wyatt scratched his head confused.
“I knew the lord would bless me after being locked in that house with a crazy woman for the past few days,” Samuel said with reverence. “I’ll go get some cups. If I’m not back in five minutes send the cavalry.”
“We’ll send Wyatt,” Lincoln grumbled softly.
“Or we could send Lincoln,” Wyatt countered.
“Lincoln’s like a son to her. She promised his mama she would look after him before the Alzheimer’s completely took over. Plus, Lincoln only works on the young ladies, the mature ones just think he’s nuts,” Samuel winked.
“No need,” Noah pulled out red plastic cups with a sly grin. “I have everything already.”
“Good man,” Samuel jogged over to Noah to grab the cups. Lincoln had never seen the man move so fast.
Noah poured Lincoln the first cup. With his eyes closed, Lincoln inhaled the scent of it before he tipped the liquid into his mouth letting the whiskey take over his taste buds as it went smoothly down his throat.
Samuel started a bonfire after all the guns were safely put away. Raising his cup, Samuel gave a toast, “My old ass has seen some fucked up shit, but nothing compared to the last couple of days. My ole’ lady is fucking scared. The TV ain’t working. And humanity seems to be under attack. But today, was a day with the boys. To survival. May you blow their fucking heads off. Aim fast and accurate.”
Everyone raised their cup to clink it with Samuel’s.
Twenty One
S ettled around the fire Noah’s story was interrupted by a faint scream. Quietly they waited making eye contact with one another, no one daring to make a sound. Samuel shifted in his spot first, setting off a chain reaction as they all started gazing around. Surrounded by the dark they couldn’t see five feet behind them. Everyone reached for their holsters, except for Wyatt because he didn’t have one.
“Renee!” Samuel whispered the word laced with dread as he dropped his cup of expensive whiskey and took off on foot toward his house.
“Get in the car, it’ll be faster. We’ll catch up to him on the way,” Lincoln told Noah and Wyatt.
Racing down the dirt path Lincoln rolled to a stop next to Samuel huffing like he’d never catch his breath, “If I die from a heart attack before I can save her. Romanticize it for me, don’t tell her I was too drunk to remember to use the car.”
“We’ll put your body next to the flesh eaters and I’ll leave teeth marks on your arm,” Lincoln chuckled.
“Good man,” Samuel wheezed with his hand over his chest.
The lights were on at the house but all the blinds were drawn.
“Everyone have their guns?” Lincoln asked out loud eyeing Wyatt in the rearview mirror. An empty gun case was sitting next to him. “There’s a case with night vision under your seat Samuel. But the light from the house will make it hard to utilize.”
“No one shoot my wife,” Samuel wheezed preparing himself for the worse. “If she’s turned I’ll do it myself.”
They silently got out of the Land Cruiser and moved toward the front door. Samuel fumbled with his keys and the second the door opened he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Renee?!”
He raced around the house searching for her while Lincoln, Wyatt, and Noah stood near the foyer. There was a sitting room off to the right with a pastel color scheme that didn’t appear to be used often. The dining room to the left had a giant dark-stained table with lace table mats. Only a few steps away were the stairs and beyond them was an open kitchen and living area to easily entertain guests.
But they were paralyzed in the small foyer, because every bit of wall space had shelves with delicate, expensive picture frames, or glass figurines.
“I can’t find her,” Samuel was grabbing his chest and bending at the knee. “Where would she go? Not outside. She’s the smart one!”
“I would help,” Lincoln began slowly. “But I’m afraid to move. I don’t want to break anything.”
Wyatt and Noah nodded in agreement.
Vibrating the walls, a loud gunshot blast came from the back of the house. The muzzle flash lit up the windows from outside. Samuel led the way into the living room and pulled the blinds up to find his wife flat on her ass with the black KSG 12ga in her hands.
Covering her eyes from the light pouring out of the window, she squinted at all four men in her house and pointed in the distance. They owned several acres of land surrounding their house and never bothered with a fence, she was regretting that decision. Because whatever was coming—there was nothing to stop them from reaching her house.
“God damn it woman! I’ve been searching the whole God damn house for you and you’re out there shooting things by yourself in the dark when you haven’t let me leave the house for days!” Samuel scolded her and banged on the window to make sure he had her attention.
Her muffled response came in loud and clear, “Don’t you talk to me like that banging on the window like a madman Samuel. You forget I’ve been stuck in there with you for the last couple of days too!”
“She has a point,” Lincoln smirked.
“Fuck you Lincoln,” Samuel replied.
Noah interrupted, “I’m not trying to rain on this bonding moment but she was pointing at something in the distance. And whatever it is, there’s more than one.”
Almost yanking the back door off its hinges Samuel tried to pull his wife inside but she shoved him off and forced him to look through the binoculars. It was obvious a herd of moving objects were headed straight for the house. Lincoln left the group quietly to grab the night vision and the M14 sniper rifle out from his car. Noah followed him keeping watch by the front door to make sure he wasn’t attacked.
Instead of treading back into the house with all the breakable figurines, Lincoln and Noah checked the perimeter convening in the back. The only one missing was Renee, she was sent inside.
Handing the case off to Wyatt, Lincoln made him set up the rifle and taught him how to put a suppressor on it, “I think all the noise from earlier brought Samuel some party crashers.” Putting the night vision over Wyatt’s eyes Lincoln said lowly, “Take out two, but practice on the moving targets. Shoot them where you want just try to be accurate.”
“What if they need help and I’m killing innocent people?” Wyatt questioned uneasily. He couldn’t clearly see who was coming.
“Shoot a warnin
g shot,” Noah shrugged. “If they’re alive someone will yell don’t shoot.”
“Why does he get to have all the fun?” Samuel pouted like a sullen child.
“He’s going to practice on the slow ones while we watch out for the fast ones,” Lincoln said casually dropping the information bomb.
Samuel and Noah snapped their attention to Lincoln and Noah asked first in an alarmed voice, “What do you mean fast ones?”
“Fuck, don’t tell Renee,” Samuel chipped in anxiously.
“They’re super fast—,” Wyatt began.
Lincoln interrupted him, “Stop stalling and shoot that warning shot. You’re not going to get another opportunity like this. The next time you come across a gathering of rotting flesh you might not have the three of us watching your back.”
“Wait, his will be silent,” Noah took out his gun, aimed it off to the side and fired. The shot echoed as they stood silently waiting for a reply. Complete silence was the only answer in return.
Lincoln kicked Wyatt’s foot and he finally cocked the gun. He took his time before he fired.
Scanning the yard with the night vision, Lincoln had his gun in hand as he started his story clearing his throat, “Two flesh eaters attacked us in a parking lot. Came straight at us and tackled me to the ground before Wyatt shot it’s head off. They didn’t putter around like the other’s we’d seen—they ran straight for us. I didn’t get a chance to check them over, the only difference I caught were their eyes. Instead of a filmy grey, it was bloodshot red, like a bunch of capillary’s burst.”
“The only reason why I’m so mellow right now is because of all the whiskey we had earlier,” Noah admitted frankly, his buzz fading. “Does everyone have a suppressor for their gun? Cause I didn’t bring mine. If we keep shooting without them Samuel’s going to keep getting smelly, unwanted visitors.”
“The last time you went on a drinking binge after all the shooting,” Lincoln narrowed his eyes at Noah, still hanging onto the grudge.
“I’d just seen a woman literally eat another woman. Strip her skin off her fucking face and slurp it down like it was a fucking smoothie,” Noah answered irritated. “And yes, I broke into your house and drank your whiskey and I’m sorry, but I’m a brown man that shot a white woman to death in front of your entire neighborhood. And I had no idea how to even begin to explain that to the law once they got there.”