by S. P. Durnin
None of the others spoke, and George’s smile bordered on beatific. Elle shrugged, nudged Leo with her elbow where the two of them sat close together and he nodded his consent. Rae looked at Jake thoughtfully, considering what he’d said as she calculated the odds. Bee, Gwen, Henry, and their newcomer Mel nodded, almost in unison. Penny was understandably absent, taking into account she’d just pulled a four hour shift at the western barrier, but she would go along with the group’s decision too.
Kat remained where she sat on the loading ramp of the Mimi, silently horrified, as cold fear crept up her spine. She wasn’t sure Jake should be ramrod of their little misfit group now. What he’d just implemented was a policy of “safety through aggression.” Normally, at least when it came to the mobile dead, it wasn’t something she had a problem with. But against living people too? The pretty ninja-girl felt her stomach head for China by way of the center of the Earth, because it was too late for her to change her mind.
Far too late.
Jake motioned to Foster, and the gray-haired fixer tossed him the folded map he’d kept beneath his camp chair. Jake squatted, unfolded the somewhat coffee-stained paper, and laid it out on the concrete floor of the automotive bay.”
“Alright,” he began, smoke curling up from his cigarette around his ever-messy hair, “here’s what we’re going to do...”
CHAPTER SIX
“How do I get conned into crap like this?” Jake said, frowning as he, George, and Rae walked briskly up Beach Drive, toward the town’s only high-rise.
“Because you make the big bucks, kid,” George chuckled.
“Wait. I get paid to do this?” Jake pulled out an American Spirit and lit up with his battered Zippo. “If so, I think I’m due some back wages.”
“I’ll deduct them from the cost of my Humvee. You’re behind on your payments anyway,” Rae said as she flounced down the dirt road leading to the marina.
“Great,” Jake quipped, “There goes my credit rating.”
Depressed and damaged though he was, O’Connor had to make a conscious effort not to look at the way her boobs bounced as she strode along. Rae was hot by any definition of the word. Intelligent, gutsy, physically a knock-out, and she could she could not only effectively use but build fully-automatic rifles from their component parts.
Yeah.
Hot.
If someone was to be truthful, Mooney’s Sunset Bar and Grill was not technically a ‘skyscraper’. Everyone simply referred to it as such. While Sunset only stood four stories in height, but it was by far the tallest structure in Langley, Oklahoma, so—of course—everyone called it ‘the Skyscraper’. The building sat on the lake’s edge less than fifty yards from the water, and boasted the best burger anywhere on the lake. Its proprietor met them on the Sunset’s wrap-around deck at the front of the hotel.
Charles Mooney had, in no uncertain terms, been the driving force behind his town’s survival during the zombie uprising. When the dead had first risen, the whip-thin man had taken to the streets of Langley in one of his three bulldozers, and proceeded to crush the nasty things flat. It was one of the same John Deere earthmovers that had been used to steady the bus/watchtower at the town’s eastern edge, during its construction.
Sunset Bar and Grill’s owner/operator cut a scraggly profile, to say the least. Most days he didn’t bother with shaving, so he constantly displayed a healthy crop of what was politely referred to as ‘two-day stubble.’ He favored loose cargo shorts, tee-shirts with hula-girls promoting one beer or another, and nearly always wore an apron stained generously with whatever his ridiculously small kitchen staff was preparing for the community’s evening meal. Mooney had insisted, early on, that the Sunset would host any survivors in the area and had stepped in reluctantly as leader of his frightened group. He’d managed to keep over sixty of them alive until Cho and the other crew members of the Mimi had found their little haven, just a month prior.
Kat, Henry, Elle, and Leo had been scouting for a way around the lake after their party narrowly avoided a large concentration of infected outside Joplin, Missouri, when they encountered the town’s blockade on the Pensacola Dam. Elle immediately called for Cho to halt their Humvee, and took a good, long look at the fortification. While it was a bit slap-dash, the barricade stretched all the way across the dam to provide an effective deterrent against zombie intrusion and looked as solid as the roadway itself.
Cho and Elle had exited their vehicle over the protestations of Henry and Leo, asserting that two women would be less threatening to anyone on guard and walked towards the steel wall with their hands held high in plain sight. One of the defenders—a balding man named Ira Bennett—sent a runner back to the marina when the women asked for ‘the person in charge,’ and in no time at all were speaking with Charles Mooney.
After some brief introductions, Cho had explained their presence on the dam and the purpose of their four-person scouting mission to Mooney’s satisfaction, so the quartet was allowed inside the wall. They kept their weapons quite close at first, but soon learned the town wasn’t a haven for undesirables with delusions of grandeur. It was just a bunch of frightened people, trying to survive.
After a brief head-shed with Charles and a few of his staff, Kat and crew returned to fetch their friends. Half of Jake’s party had been understandably skeptical about trusting anyone, especially a group nearly five times larger than their own. It wouldn’t be the first time a hostile force tried to lure them in with platitudes. Penny had some very fresh memories of her time with a band of survivors who’d sheltered within a grainery in Bainbridge, and all of them remembered William Poole’s little band of psychos
‘The Purifiers”.
That said, when the Screamin’ Mimi rolled into Langley hadn’t turned out badly at all. Kat certainly believed it been less ‘dramatic’ than their entrance into the Purifier-occupied Cincinnati Gas and Electrical Plant.
George had destroyed Poole’s gate with the Mimi, thereby letting about a thousand or so infected onto the grounds.
Oh. Then Jake’s party had kind of killed every single one of the Purifiers and burned down their clubhouse.
You had to be there at the time.
One reason was because Mooney had made it quite clear to his people upon their arrival, that whatever Cho and her friends brought with remained theirs. That included their Humvee, the Mimi, and anything it contained. If they chose to share some supplies with his people, great. If not, the folks of Langley would either respect that choice, or be banished from the sanctuary.
Period.
There hadn’t been anyone who felt the need to debate that with the owner of Sunset Bar and Grill, especially not with Foster standing beside him—looking like a post-apocalyptic bad-ass he was—holding an M134 minigun as if it weighed no more than a tinker-toy.
The other reason was because—along with some of them taking turns manning the town’s barriers, as Penny did—Kat and her three-person team agreed to take over the supply/search excursions from that day forward. While Charles’s people had been going out with a dump truck to gather food and other necessities, it didn’t provide even half the security Rae’s modified Hummer could. Kat, Leo, and Henry also possessed training George had all-but beaten into them too, and Elle was a sergeant in the Marine Corps, making them far more adept at dealing with the zombies than any of Charles’s people. The citizens of Langley knew it too, and basically welcomed them with open arms one month prior. Jake was grateful for that generosity and acceptance, but it was far past time he and his friends put the Lake O’ the Cherokees in their rear-view. If Charles and his folks came along so much the better, but the crew of the Screamin’ Mimi were leaving.
That was what he’d come to tell Charles Mooney, face to face.
The scraggly older man sat on the top step of his hotel-turned-refuge, sipping at a tall glass of what looked like Bourbon. As Jake, Rae, and Foster
climbed the wooden steps, Mooney confirmed it by pouring more from a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label into the tumbler. “Hey people. Pull up a seat.”
“How’s it hangin’, Chuck?” Foster accepted a glass of ‘black’ from the scraggly-looking man.
Mooney grimaced. “Christ, old man. You sound like that chick from the ‘Peanuts’ comic strip. The one with the psychiatrist booth, who’d always pull the football away.”
Foster displayed a shit-eating grin. “Who ya’ callin’ old there? I’m seenin’ plenty of gray on that head of yours.”
“You can go off people, you know.” Mooney drolled.
Rae took a glass of her own and sipped at it with a great show of appreciation. “Ahhh... Thank you, Charles. It’s not Jameson’s, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
“I got a ‘pinch’ for you.” he said, and winked at her, which prompted the brunette to give a sputtering laugh. Though a devout widower, Mooney ogled Rae outrageously. To Jake’s knowledge, neither one had any intentions to take it any further than a few racy flirtations however, due to the man’s abiding love for his deceased Julia. O’Connor could relate. Even though the two hadn’t been husband and wife, he still ached every time he thought of Laurel.
“Charles, we need to talk,” Jake said, taking a seat beside the Sunset’s manager, but not accepting a drink of his own. “We’re thankful for the hospitality you’ve shown us. All of us. But—”
“But you wanna be heading out soon?” Mooney looked out over the lake.
Jake nodded. “We always intended to cross over the Rockies. It’s still safe beyond the mountains, or so all the information we managed to glean previously told us. The military secured most of the West Coast, Hawaii, and Alaska too, so we won’t have to worry so much about the creatures once we get over the Continental Divide. Besides, we have friends in Texas. We promised to come for them along the way, and we’re weeks overdue now.”
“Are you sure they’re still there?” Charles asked gently. “It’s been over a month since you all showed up in Langley. They may not... Well. You know.”
Rae downed her black. “Yeah. They’re alive. The last satellite photos I managed to retrieve of Pecos showed it as still being secure, and occupied by living people. Allen and the others wouldn’t have had too much difficulty making it there in the Beechcraft. The plane had a fourteen hundred mile range, and Maggie’s a damn good pilot. They’re alright. And they’re waiting for us.”
“We don’t wanna leave you or your people in the shit, but we gave ‘em our word, Chuck,” Foster told him. “Can’t back outta somethin’ once ya’ do that.”
Mooney waved Foster’s comment off and continued to gaze out over the water. “You know, I’ve spent my whole life here in Langley, except for a stint in the army, that is. Went into the Engineering Corps. Kinda made sense that I’d end up owning a construction business after that. The Sunset was just for fun at first, but it became my life after Julia passed. I hate to leave it.”
Rae sat beside the maudlin hotel proprietor and asked, “Would she want you to stay, even though it will likely get you killed? The creatures will find this place. It’s only a matter of time until a horde is banging at the walls on Langley’s dam. We’ve seen what they can do in large groups. You’d need walls five times as high to withstand numbers like that, or they’d crawl right over each other—and over your defenses—to get in. It’s just for some brick and timber, and memories, isn’t it? I’m betting Julia would tell you not to be foolish and save yourself, wouldn’t she?”
Mooney thought about it for a minute then raised an eyebrow in her direction. “Well, I’d say that was blunt enough.”
“It saves time,” Rae admitted with an attribute-jiggling shrug.
Charles threw his hands up in defeat. “Hell with it. Most of my folks want to head for somewhere else as soon as the buses are ready anyway.”
“That works out then, doesn’t it?” Rae clapped her hands, signaling the subject had been decided and gave Mooney a winning smile.
“You know, Julia could out-reason me like you just did. She wasn’t nice about it, either,” he grumbled, and took a swig from his glass. “She had a great rack, my wife. Knew how to use it too, when she wanted me to do something she knew I’d hate. Women are evil.”
O’Connor felt a momentary twinge of loss. His best friend Allen Ryker had once told him the same thing, just before he, Maggie, Gertrude, Jenner, and the airplane mechanics two, young charges had taken flight for the rumored safety Pecos offered. He hoped like hell Al was alright, and was perfectly willing to take an ass-whooping from his friend once they arrived. The slim mechanic was going to be pretty pissed they’d taken so long to get to there. Jake could see that one coming a mile away.
Mooney brushed non-existent dirt from his palms on his ever-present apron and turned to O’Connor. “How’s the work on the buses coming? Any idea when they could be ready? I haven’t checked in a couple of days. Been too busy feedin’ everybody. I swear, if I hear ‘Rice and beans? Again?’ from one more person...”
“George? Kat tells me you and Rae have been helping out with that. What’s the word?” Jake had been out of it for quite a while, and needed to be brought up to speed.
The stocky, old chief held his glass out for Mooney to refill. “Better than we originally hoped, really. Got the exterior of both almost finished.” Foster sat back on the step in satisfaction.
“Care to elaborate?” Jake asked.
Rae spoke up impatiently. “We’ve managed to use steel-plate left over from the barricades to cover all the windows. Welded it right to the sides of both buses and bolted it from the insides, so those aren’t going to be coming off. We left the two-foot high slits all the way across the front windshields—so whoever drives will have good visibility—and installed a rebar cage over the gaps. That way, if any creatures manage to hitch a ride, they won’t be able to shatter the glass and crawl in for dinner. Then I cut an access hatch in the top of each bus at the rear above the climate control units and added steel sliding bars to secure them. Occupants can use the hatches for firing ports from the roof, or even to provide eyes on the rear of the vehicles, in case either needs to back up at some point.”
“Holy shit. You’ve been busy.” Jake tended to forget the shapely woman had been the one who’d taken a military grade Humvee, and virtually turned it into a zombie-proof Batmobile. “I’m impressed.”
“Kiss-ass,” Foster said, faking a cough as the word exited his lips.
Rae glowed at Jake’s praise, and gave George a dirty look before going on. “Thank you! We’ll need to obtain some things before we can finish up, though.”
“Like what?” Jake inquired.
“A pair of the biggest, freezer doors we can find like the ones in delis in a supermarket. Two large, portable, diesel generators, preferably Kohler Power Force PK500-ESs, because they proved high output and have wheels for ease of movement... Oh, and eight industrial-grade meat slicers”
O’Connor looked at her in confusion. “What are you going to do with meat slicers?”
Rae smiled and tilted her head to one side. “Do you really want to know?”
Jake held up one hand. “Forget I asked. Charles? Any ideas on where we can find that stuff?”
Mooney rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, there’s a Costco up in Vanita. You could probably pick most that up right there. If it hasn’t been looted already.”
Jake stood, stubbed out his cigarette, and then looked out over the lake himself. “Kat’s been up there with some of our people recently, so she’ll know the area.” he said. “I’ll speak with her when we get back to the post office, and we’ll head up to grab the supplies in tomorrow morning.”
* * *
Deputy Penny Carson had finished her shower with barely a minute to dress again, before Kat, Rae, and Beatrix arrived for ‘ladies night’ at Rodger’s Roc
k Cabins.
Even though the collected members of their odd little party (mostly) got along, each had very much been looking forward to some time away from the men. Since Penny chose to stay in one of the nearby cabins—as opposed to the swelteringly hot post office—her place had been designated as The Spot To Go by the other girls. While the men in their party were nice enough, they tended to sweat testosterone. Much of the time they were simply unable to hold intelligent conversations when distracted by things like legs, butts, and boobies. Penny could occasionally identify with that male-based problem, but had been leery of doing anything about it, for fear of being labeled the group slut.
Penny wondered now why she’d bothered. It was the Apocalypse, dammit. Who cared who slept with whom? They were all adults. Being forced together—as Rebecca had attempted to do with Jake—was unacceptable for any reason, but if both parties agreed to have some toe-curling sex of their own free will? Well. That was a different story.
Carson mulled this over as the four of them sat around the cabin’s small dining table, playing spades to the light of pair of Coleman lanterns and several dozen candles. The electricity had been out for months, and noise from gas-powered generators attracted creatures like flies, so the people of Langley had learned to do without. It made cooking a bit of an experience, and there wasn’t a hot shower to be had.
She and Cho lost yet another hand to the team of Beatrix and Rae. Possibly due to the fact that—while all of them had been hitting from two bottles of Jameson’s Irish Whiskey Rae had brought along—Rachael Norris and Beatrix Foster turned out to be a pair of sharks. They’d been winning all night. So far, Penny and Kat owed them: a week of deserts from each of their MREs, two weeks of weapons maintenance and cleanings, a full set—bra and briefs—of underwear (each) from the next Vickie’s they came across, and $12,817.
Exactly.
“Tha’s it. I know when I’m outclassed.” Penny tossed her cards in the air and tried to focus on her drink for balance, for Christ’s sake. And she was sitting down. How the hell did Rae do it? The buxom woman didn’t even seem buzzed. “You missed your calling. Should ‘a bagged the whole FBI thing and hit Vegas.”