“Well, you can use our facilities here for as long as you need them,” Pallata said. “We’ll handle the conflicts as they arise. Reese, can you see to that?”
“Sure,” Reese said.
“Captain, when will the rest of your men arrive?” Pallata asked.
“Inbound now, might even be at the garage already,” Narvaez said. “Logistics aside, do you have a mission for us yet, ma’am?”
Pallata nodded. “Absolutely. We need to keep Cedars-Sinai operational. We have a good number of our patrol officers there for security. Can your guys take over?”
“We can do that,” Narvaez said. “You envision us just keeping the peace, or…?”
“More like ‘or’ at the moment,” Pallata said. “Right now, all the area hospitals are busy. Cedars is getting busy as hell, lots of injuries coming in. And, uh, lots of zombies.” She shook her head. “Zombies… I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Yeah, things are a bit different these days, ma’am,” Plosser said.
“So, ma’am, I need some more guidance on this,” Narvaez said. “Are we to secure the hospital and use force to ensure it stays that way, or are we just making our presence known? A lot of my guys have combat experience, and more than a few are police officers from other jurisdictions and municipalities, so keeping the peace won’t be a big stretch for us. But we need to know what you envision us doing if things get hot. Because from the looks of things”—he turned and pointed at the monitors on the wall—“it looks like hot is going to be the average temperature soon.”
“Do what you have to in order to keep the hospital operational,” Pallata said. “I don’t see you opening up on civilians, but if that means you have to shoot some zombies, you do it.”
Narvaez looked back at Plosser. “First Sergeant?”
Plosser nodded. “I’m good to go on that, sir.”
Narvaez turned back to Pallata. “We’ll have liaisons on site, correct?”
Pallata looked at Reese. “Go with them, Detective. You’re our point man.”
Awesome, Reese thought.
SINGLE TREE, CALIFORNIA
“So, are you going to be working at the film festival?” Suzy asked, looking over her plate of spaghetti.
Her deep, dark eyes demanded Mike Hailey’s complete attention. Since the only thing that competed with her was his bacon cheeseburger, she won, hands down. But she always did, as far as Hailey was concerned.
“I am,” he said. “I’m still the low man on the totem pole, so I get all the scut jobs.” As the newest patrolman to join Single Tree’s small police force, Hailey had to work all the thankless jobs, such as traffic control during Single Tree’s annual film festival. In years past, it had never been that big of an affair, but as more Hollywood talent found their way to the desert hamlet, the event was growing into one of the town’s biggest attractions.
Suzy pouted. “Poor boy,” she said then gave a light laugh. She reached across the table and touched his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll come and keep you company… in between watching movies.”
“How sweet of you,” Hailey said. “You already have tickets?”
“The tribe gets a couple dozen, and I just happen to have two.” She squeezed his hand before leaning back in her chair. “Victor gave them to me. He told me to take you, if you weren’t working.”
Hailey raised his eyebrows. “Victor told you to take me?”
Suzy Kuruk was the tribal leader’s niece, and also one of his subordinates. Hailey had nothing against Victor, who was a decent enough guy, even though he played the stoic Native American part to the hilt. But Victor suggesting his twenty-year-old niece cavort with a white man seemed out of character.
Suzy straightened the collar on her khaki reservation police uniform. “He likes you. He thinks you’re respectful toward him, not like some of the other town cops. He appreciates that.”
Hailey felt his brow furrow, as if of its own accord. “Why wouldn’t anyone be respectful toward your uncle? He’s the leader of the tribe and also the head of the reservation police.”
Suzy shrugged. “Your chief always treats him like a civilian, not like a police officer. So do a lot of other guys, like Whitter and, ah, what’s the tall guy’s name? Santoro?”
“Yeah, Wilbur Santoro. I can see why Victor doesn’t like him. Santoro really is a dick.”
Hailey looked up as Danielle Kennedy approached their table. She walked almost without a limp now, he saw, courtesy of the new prosthetic leg. She was a few years older than he was and had graduated from high school and gone off to join the Marines while he was still in middle school. His only real memories of her from his youth were when she babysat him and his brother. One night, she’d allowed him to stay up with her and watch Halloween on cable, which had terrified him so badly that he hadn’t been able to sleep all night. But he’d never told his parents because they would have been angry that their nine-year-old boy had been subjected to such fare.
“How are the lovebirds doing?” Danielle asked, smiling down at them. “Everything all right? Mike, you want another Coke?” She pointed at his almost-empty glass.
“I’m fine, thanks,” he said.
“Not eating much of your cheeseburger,” Danielle noted. “Does it taste worse than usual, or is Suzy spending too much time flirting with you across the table?”
“I don’t flirt.” Suzy smiled. “I only arouse.”
Danielle laughed. “Okay, I’m going to leave that one alone—”
Hailey’s radio chirped, and he reached for it with a scowl. “Sorry,” he said to the two women.
“Hey, I’m cool with it,” Danielle said. “How about you, arouser?”
Suzy shrugged as she loaded up a fork with spaghetti. “It is what it is.”
###
Six minutes later, Hailey pulled his department-issued Excursion to the curb in front of Single Tree Pharmacy, the town’s only full-service drugstore. The owner, Hector Aguilar, was standing out front with a trio of lanky, dark-skinned Indian boys. The boys looked downcast and sullen, while Aguilar looked pissed off, which wasn’t unusual. Aguilar was one of the bitterest individuals Hailey knew, an expert at alienating almost everyone in the town. He wore a white smock over his street clothes, and his thick-rimmed glasses were perched on the tip of his narrow nose. He was a short, portly individual who always seemed to be on the verge of exploding into a flop sweat.
“I want these boys arrested!” Aguilar snapped as soon as Hailey stepped out of the SUV.
“On what charge, sir?” Hailey asked.
“Theft!” Aguilar held up several magazines. “They were walking out of the store with these!”
Hailey sighed and took the magazines: Playboy, Penthouse, and Hustler, one issue each. He looked at the three boys, the oldest of which was maybe thirteen. None of them would meet his eye. Hailey had to fight not to smile. “Still no Internet at the reservation, boys?”
“This is not funny,” Aguilar barked. “They were on their way out of the store with goods they hadn’t paid for, not to mention they were in possession of age-restricted items!”
“Boys? Is this true?” Hailey asked.
The three boys looked at each other, and the eldest made a noncommittal noise that could have been affirmation, denial, or something in between. Hailey fought not to smile once again.
“Well?” Aguilar said. “Aren’t you going to read them their rights or something?”
Hailey handed the magazines back to the drugstore owner. “You really want me to arrest these kids, Mr. Aguilar?”
“Absolutely! Theft is a serious crime!”
“We were still in the store,” the oldest boy said softly.
“What was that?” Hailey asked.
The oldest boy raised his head a little. “We were still in the store. We hadn’t left yet.”
“Oh, really?” Hailey looked at Aguilar. “Sir, did these boys leave the premises with your property?”
Aguilar huffed. “They wer
e headed for the door when I stopped them.”
“Sir, were they still in the store when you stopped them?” Hailey asked.
“What difference does that make? Intent is intent!”
“Yeah, okay,” Hailey said. He motioned the boys toward the Excursion. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Don’t you want to take my report?” Aguilar asked.
“I’ve got what I need,” Hailey said, “and you have your merchandise. Right?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’ve got it, sir. The department will be in touch.” Hailey pulled open the rear door of the SUV. “Climb in, guys.”
“I want them prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law!” Aguilar called after him. “To the fullest! Do you understand me?”
“That’s up to the Inyo County prosecutor, but I’ll pass that on,” Hailey said. “I’ll copy you on the paperwork, Mr. Aguilar. Don’t worry about that.”
“I’ll be following up with your chief,” Aguilar said, wagging a finger. “Just to let you know.”
“And I’m good with that,” Hailey said, shutting the back door. “Just to let you know.”
Aguilar started walking toward him. “Now just one second—”
The pharmacy door flew open behind him, and a heavy Hispanic woman in her late forties practically exploded out of the building. “I had to call 9-1-1!”
“What?” Aguilar turned back. “Ernesta, what are you talking about?”
“Mr. Wallace collapsed! I think he had a heart attack!” the woman said, her eyes bright with panic as her ample bosom heaved beneath her white lab coat. “Lou is giving him CPR right now!” She looked past Aguilar and saw Hailey standing by the police SUV. “Officer, can you help?”
Hailey opened the car door. “Guys, you get out of here.”
They looked at him uncertainly for a second then took off down the street.
“Hey!” Aguilar shouted.
Hailey ignored him as he headed for the door while speaking into his radio. “Three to Central, you have a call for medical at the pharmacy? Over.”
“Three, this is Central. Roger, we have a call for that address. I was just going to notify you. Over.”
“Central, this is Three. I’m on it. Over.”
“What about those kids?” Aguilar asked as Hailey pulled open the door and stepped into the pharmacy. “You’re letting them get away!”
“Mr. Aguilar, I think you have more important things to worry about right this second,” Hailey said, looking around. He spotted a small crowd around the pharmacy desk in back. He hurried in that direction, with Aguilar and the clerk in tow. Aguilar was still muttering something about Hailey letting the Indian youths beat feet, but Hailey was no longer interested in what the pushy pharmacy owner had to say.
At the end of the aisle, an elderly man lay on his back, his plaid shirt opened to expose his fish-white belly and chest. A middle-aged assistant pharmacist was applying CPR, pushing up and down on the old man’s sternum with substantial vigor. An automated external defibrillator sat on the carpet next to the two men, and Hailey realized he had left the SUV without grabbing the unit’s AED. Even though it wasn’t necessary, he still felt a small flush of embarrassment at the oversight.
Hailey pushed past the three or four people standing around, one of whom was Old Man Wallace’s wife. She held her hands clasped in front of her as if praying, her lips moving silently as her still-bright blue eyes remained rooted on her husband’s motionless form. Hailey turned and motioned for Ernesta to pull the old woman away, then he knelt next to the stricken man and the assistant pharmacist. Ernesta put a hand on the old woman’s arm and steered her away.
Mrs. Wallace stopped ten feet away. “Not going any farther,” she snapped then went back to praying.
“Officer, can you charge up the AED?” the pharmacist asked, puffing a bit from the strain of compressing the man’s chest. “I’ve got to get him some air.”
“You got it.” Hailey reached for the AED. It was a blue Philips HeartStart, the same model he carried in his SUV, so he already knew what to do. He pressed the power button and pulled the unit open, exposing the pads inside.
The assistant pharmacist began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Hailey had to hand it to the guy. He wouldn’t have wanted to do that himself.
“I’ll… I’ll get the resuscitator,” Aguilar said, heading back behind the pharmacy counter.
In the distance, a siren sounded. From the tone, Hailey could tell it was another police unit, rather than the town’s only ambulance. The AED chirped then began issuing verbal instructions on how to place the pads. Ignoring the mechanical voice, Hailey began attaching the pads to the man’s chest.
The pharmacy assistant finished with his assisted breathing and sat up, wiping his mouth. “Okay, let’s shock him.”
Old Man Wallace suddenly bolted upright, startling everyone. Hailey instinctively lurched away, and he fell on his ass, his back slamming into the side of a display. Packages of condoms pelted him, and he wondered if he should pick up a few boxes in case he met up with Suzy later.
The assistant pharmacist laughed and grabbed Wallace’s shoulders. “Hey, hold on there, fella! Got some juice in you for a guy whose ticker just stopped!”
Wallace’s head snapped toward the pharmacist, and for a moment, the old man just stared up at him. Hailey rose onto his haunches, thinking the expression on the old man’s face was odd, blank, sort of shell-shocked, without any awareness of what had just happened. Hailey wouldn’t be surprised if the old man didn’t remember a thing, and any second, he was probably going to ask who the hell had been hitting him in the chest with a sledgehammer.
Old Man Wallace asked no such thing. He just grabbed the assistant pharmacist’s head with both hands and pulled him close, as if to give him a bear hug, or perhaps a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he sank his teeth into the man’s neck and ripped out a huge chunk of flesh. The pharmacist let out a scream that quickly turned into a gurgle as a small fountain of blood covered his chest and Old Man Wallace with crimson droplets. The old man chewed the flesh in his mouth and swallowed it convulsively before pulling at the pharmacist again, his mouth opening wide to expose bloodstained teeth. The pharmacist tried to tear himself out of the old man’s grip, mewling like a lost kitten as he pressed his right hand against the horrible wound in his neck. Blood pulsed between his fingers in arterial spurts. The old man hissed and redoubled his attempts to pull the man toward him.
“Oh my God!” someone screamed. “Oh my God!”
The assistant pharmacist looked at Hailey with bright, horrified eyes. Blood was seeping between his lips, and bloody bubbles emerged from his nose. The cast in the man’s eyes said everything.
Help me.
Hailey reached out and grabbed the old man’s shoulder, pulling him away from the pharmacist. From the corner of his eye, he saw Aguilar reappear, holding a manual resuscitator. Aguilar dropped the instrument when he saw what was going on, his mouth falling open in shock.
The old man fought against Hailey, still lunging toward the assistant pharmacist with a single-minded determination that reminded Hailey of one of those sharks he’d seen on TV during Shark Week. Hailey pulled harder, dragging the old man away as the pharmacist rolled backward and collapsed. Aguilar looked down at him, eyes wide behind his thick glasses, as if unsure of what to do. Hailey moved to put the old man in a headlock, wondering how he could restrain him long enough to slap the cuffs on him. Those thoughts disappeared when the man suddenly forgot all about the injured pharmacist and latched onto Hailey’s arm like some sort of demonic leech. Hailey felt the man’s teeth on his wrist, and he released him long enough to pull his arm away. Too late. The man’s jaws closed on the fabric of his sleeve, and for a couple of seconds, his teeth held Hailey’s arm in place.
Hailey yanked with all his might, but the man—He’s a zombie now! a small part of his mind screamed—wouldn’t relent. He—it—grabbed onto Hailey’s arm with both hands wh
ile growling deep in its throat. Hailey pulled again, lurching backward, and he managed to rip his arm out of the zombie’s grasp. He saw two broken teeth fly through the air and bounce when they landed on the carpet.
Hailey kicked at the zombie, trying to push it back, but he missed. The zombie lunged toward him with a hiss, arms outstretched like some ungainly bird attempting to take flight. There was no glimmer of intellect in the ghoul’s eyes, nothing that indicated a human being was still in residence. Hailey floundered, trying to put as much distance between him and the dead guy as he could. At the same time, he reached down with his right hand, going for his service pistol.
The zombie landed on top of him like a linebacker from the Green Bay Packers sacking a quarterback deep in the pocket. Hailey reached up and grabbed it by the neck with one hand, trying to push its head upward and keep its mouth out of biting range. The zombie turned its full attention toward his hand and grabbed his wrist with a grip that felt like a vise. Hailey let out a strangled cry as he twisted, trying to free his arm.
Boom!
The zombie jerked backward as its forehead dimpled inward like an eggshell that had been pierced by a pin. Hailey took the opportunity to push the zombie off him, and it collapsed onto its side and lay still. Getting to his feet, Hailey pulled his weapon and trained it on the motionless corpse. His hands were shaking so much it took almost heroic concentration to keep the pistol’s front sight rooted on the sprawled figure.
“Mike! Mike, are you all right?” someone asked.
He risked a glance behind him, and he saw Suzy standing off to the right, her pistol in both hands. Behind her was the police chief, Greg Grady. He had his pistol out as well, though held in a low-ready state.
“I’m fine,” Hailey said, and his voice was barely audible over the ringing in his ears.
Beyond the dead man, the assistant pharmacist was writhing on the ground, his hand still pressed against the wound in his neck. Ernesta approached him with a wad of gauze. Aguilar just stood where he was, shock etched into his face as he watched the man bleed all over the carpet. Old Man Wallace’s wife was shrieking, her hands clamped across her mouth.
The Last Town Page 8