“Lead away, sir.”
Sonny jumps up way too fast and bounds across the small expanse of parking lot, slamming against the side of the tower. He’s standing there and waving frantically for us to follow. The guy reminds me of a hyper, little dog; he’s all bottled energy and no release valve.
Katia comes up to one knee. “He’s going to get us killed.”
“But isn’t he cute?”
“A-fucking-dorable.” She takes off towards the tower, hunched over at the waist, her swords low, the tips almost dragging the ground.
I give her five paces before following, switching my field of fire from left to right, looking for anything moving.
Sonny takes a big breath, blows it out, and begins circling us around the tower towards the door.
There are a few cars still in the parking lot; mostly four-door sedans and one ice cream delivery truck with the serving shutter still open. As we move further around the tower, more crosses are revealed. One of the Rabid has come loose and is dangling by a putrid palm, its head is sagged over on one shoulder, and there’s a big butcher knife protruding from the center of its skull.
“It’s all glass!” Sonny hisses back over his shoulder.
“It’s all gl—”
“Yeah, Katia, I heard him.” I move around her and crouch between them, trying to get a look into the front of the building without making myself too vulnerable. “It’s gonna be hairy, no matter what we do.”
“We don’t have to do anything; we can just turn around and go back.”
“We came this far, we should probably see it through…in my opinion,” Sonny says.
Katia looks up at me, a dim bulb of hope in her eyes.
“You know I’m with Sonny on this.”
“Fine, but I call the shots from here on in. If I’m getting picked off by some batshit crazy cult, then I’m doing it on my terms.”
“I doubt they’re a cult.”
“They’re crucifying Rabid.”
“It’s survival, there’s nothing ritualistic here.”
“Okay, whatever, do we have a deal?”
I look at Sonny and shrug. “Fine by me.”
Sonny looks a bit letdown about his brief time as point-man coming to an end, but he finally relents and steps back to let Katia take the reins.
“We go in hard, loud, straight through the glass.”
“Wait, what?” Sonny shakes his head in disbelief.
“Come again?” I bend my ear towards Katia.
“You heard me.”
“Yeah. I heard you. I’m just making sure that you heard you. A second ago, you were worried about getting attacked and now you want to storm the joint.”
“You got a better idea? The front of this place is one giant window; one way in, one way out. Better we try to get the jump on them.”
Her logic is sound; ballsy, but sound. “Sonny, you game?”
He’s pale as he nods and raises his rifle to his chest.
“Alright. On me.”
I’m leading the pack, snuggled up at the corner of the tower, where the cement connects with the glass wall that makes up the front of the lobby. I hold up a hand for Sonny and Katia and begin counting down on three fingers. As soon as I lower the final digit, I break from cover and raise the rifle to my shoulder, my index finger closing on the trigger, the muzzle aimed at the top right-hand corner of the first giant window.
The glass explodes back in my face, embedding itself like tiny claws in my cheeks and forehead; there’s also a searing pain in my right shoulder. I drop my rifle and bring my hands up to my face, a kneejerk reaction, and a stupid one at that; a painful reminder that I’m no soldier, I’m still just a shit-scared teenager.
“Tim!” Katia screams as I stand there bellowing in pain and holding my face. She’s on me in seconds, pulling me back into cover.
I can hear the shotgun now and a woman’s voice screaming, “You won’t get me, sonsofbitches! Not without a fight!” There are two more shotgun blasts and more glass shattering.
Katia is on top of me. Her face appears hazy through the curtain of blood billowing across my eyes. “Stop moving! Stop moving! Let me see!” Her hands are on my neck, her thumbs on either side of my jaw, turning my head back and forth. “Sonny, shoot that bitch!”
Sonny’s suppressed rifle whispers a flurry of lead into the tower lobby.
There’s a pause as he reloads.
“That’s all you got?” the woman mocks. “You see them crosses? You see them sonsofbitches I nailed up there?Those sonsofbitches couldn’t take old Martha Turkins! You really think the lot of you can?” There are three more reports from her shotgun.
“Shit!” Sonny yelps.
“You hit?” Katia is frantic.
“No! Something got in my eye! It’s out now, I’m fine.”
“Just keep your head down!” Katia is turning my face again. “Crazy bitch is bound to run out of ammo eventually.”
The woman discharges a crude laugh. “Keep dreamin’, sweetheart! I got enough firepower in here to last me through the next apocalypse!” A drum-roll of automatic gunfire serves to prove her point.
“She’s got a machine gun, Katia!” Sonny’s voice quivers.
“I heard! Just shoot back! I’m busy!” Katia holds my head still. “I told you we should have turned around! Didn’t I tell you?”
“I’m blind! I’m fucking blind!” The red curtains have closed completely. The world has gone black. That bitch shot me in the eyes. The burning pain in my shoulder has dissolved into a dull throbbing.
“Hold still, damn it! You’re not blind. You’ve got blood in your eyes.” I feel her thumbs sliding over my eyelids. “Open your eyes, stop squinting. Can you see?”
“It burns like hell, but I can see.”
“Your face is messed up and you’ve got buckshot in your shoulder. Can you move your arm?”
I can, but the pain is immense. I gasp and clench up. “How bad is it?”
“You’re not bleeding out. We’ll have to get the pellets and glass out and get you cleaned up so you don’t get infected.”
I look to the tower. The gun battle between Sonny and the entrenched woman is still raging, with Sonny getting the sharp end of the stick. He’s huddled up, blind firing around the corner as he receives volley-after-volley of machine gun and shotgun fire in return; giant chunks of wall peel off and smash him in the face.
“We’ve gotta put an end to this,” Katia says. “The gunfire is a smoke signal for the Rabid. If she doesn’t plug our asses, they will chomp our asses. We need to run or end this bitch.”
I push up on my good arm and climb to my feet, my vision blurry, my head swimming. I stumble towards Sonny. My rifle is still lying in the parking lot.
“What the hell are you doing, Tim?” Katia pulls at my shirt tail, but I shake her off.
“Sonny, cease fire!”
He recoils as more bullets chip away at his cover.
“Ma’am, can you hear me?”
“Course’ I can hear you, numb nuts. You the little shit I blasted?”
I push Sonny back and take his place. “That’s me. Pretty solid aim with that shotty, almost took my head off.”
“That was the goal. Seeing as how you’re still yappin’ away, it sounds like I’m out of practice.”
I can hear her loading shells into the shotgun and then the distinct, ass-puckering sound of her racking the slide. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, that glass could throw anyone off. You gave my shoulder a spanking and ruined my youthful good looks, so it’s not a total loss.”
“Butter me up, sweetheart, but if you’re thinkin’ that schoolboy charm is gonna get you anywhere with me, you’re about forty years too late.”
Katia wraps a firm hand across my good shoulder. “What the hell are you doing, Two-Step?”
“Trying to prevent more bloodshed, just stand back.”
“What you folks whispering about out there? It ain’t polite to whisper.”
“Thinkin’ just because you got numbers and youth that you can take old Martha Turkins? Keep dreamin’, you wobbly-kneed, little good for nothin’—”
“Wait!” I yell, louder and harsher than I intended to. “We’re not here to hurt you, ma’am. We’ve got no quarrel with you.”
“That why you came around that corner with your rifle raised? That why you’re asking if I’m alone? Weighing your chances, right?”
“After the stuff we’ve seen, the stuff we’ve been through, we never let our guard down. Every situation is hostile for us until proven otherwise.”
She makes a noise that sounds almost like admiration. “Well now, I reckon that’s smart.”
“I reckon so too.”
“Tim!” Katia’s lips brush my ear. “Why are we bothering with this loony bitch? Let’s just go!”
More blood has begun trickling across my brow. I wipe it away with the back of my arm. “You seem pretty smart yourself. The crosses, the barricade, definitely will put a second thought into the heads of any folks coming this way with ill intent.”
“Might need to put up a few more, seeing as how y’all are standing out there.”
“Ma’am, we’ve got no ill intent. We’re just looking for some shelter, looking to get off the road for a little bit. That’s it.”
“Prove it.”
“I’m proving it right now, aren’t I?”
“Not to my liking. Have your friends throw their weapons out there beside yours.”
“Not gonna happen, lady!” Katia yells, fueling the flames.
“I’ve got enough left in here for you too, little missy!”
Katia rolls around me and draws her swords.
I grab her left arm and pull her back. “What are you doing?”
“You’re cozying up to the bitch that shot you!”
“She’s scared, can’t you see that? What would you have done?”
“I ain’t scared of shit, you little pipsqueak, bring it on!”
“That’s not how I meant it. I worded it wrong. You’re being cautious, like anyone in your situation would be. You’re surviving.”
“Damn right I am, now throw them weapons out, now!”
“Do it, Katia. Throw the swords out. You too, Sonny, toss the gun.”
“But—” Sonny starts to protest, but I give him a hard stare and he relents. He lowers the rifle, removes the mag, and ejects the round in the chamber.
“Wait, Sonny!” Katia shoves him back before he can toss the gun. “This is suicide!”
“I got a feeling. Please, just go with me on this. I’ll step out first. Just toss the swords.”
“We’ll have nothing—”
I pull the back of my shirt up, revealing the pistol in my waistband. “Trust me.”
She looks at me, doubt still rippling in her eyes, but she grants a solemn nod and tosses her swords away. They clatter in front of the building, snuggling up next to my rifle. “Go ahead, Sonny.”
Sonny does as instructed, chunking the rifle first and then the magazine; he pockets the bullet.
“Good,” Martha says, “step on out here where I can see you, take it real slow and keep your hands high.”
I know this play is a gamble, a cowboy move, but I intend to see it through. I go first, moving real slow, foot-over-foot, just as Martha instructed. I’ve got my hands high. I move until I’m in front of the tower lobby, standing over my rifle, exactly where I was when Martha damn near took my head off. The buckshot in my shoulder is chomping in deep, my right arm is shaking like crazy, begging for relief, but I know if I lower my hands, ol’ Martha Turkins won’t hesitate to send another hailstorm of lead my way.
“Keep it coming. Away from those guns, boy. Remember, I ain’t stupid.” Martha emerges from the shadows, a heavyset woman, wearing a pair of distressed blue jeans, a loose white and pink shirt adorned with flowers, a denim jacket, and a pair of black boots that strangle her shins. Her fire-red hair emerges in frizzy ribbons from beneath a camouflage trucker cap. “You’re a young’un.” She looks from me, to Katia, to Sonny. “All y’all are still shaking off the afterbirth. Surprised to see such little fish, I thought it was only the sharks that’d managed to survive these waters.”
“We swim really, really fast,” Katia says.
“He didn’t swim so fast.” Martha motions towards me with the barrel of the shotgun. She walks to the edge of the lobby, standing just beyond the broken window. “Come here, boy.”
The glass crunches under my feet as I approach, each step a bitter reminder of my carelessness. I can feel the weight of the pistol in my jeans, the cool metal against my skin.
“Wait a minute.” Martha’s eyes widen, as if she’s just remembered something important. “Lift your shirt!”
I’m close enough to make the grab, and her finger is far enough away from the trigger that I just might succeed.
I go for it.
I snatch the barrel and force the shotgun up.
Martha gets hold of the trigger and it barks and bucks, blowing a hole in the ceiling,causing debris to rain down on both our heads. I’ve got youth and speed, but she’s got size. Martha is latched onto the shotgun like a Doberman on a butcher’s bone. “Lying, no good…you’re just a lying no good…a liar, that’s what you are!” She tries to kick me in the balls, but can’t get the height; her foot deflects off the inside of my thigh instead.
It’s not long before Katia and Sonny are beside me. Sonny helps wrestle the shotgun from her and Katia lets loose with a sweep kick that plants ol’ Martha on her ass.
I draw my pistol and level it off at Martha’s head.
“Do it! Go on, you little snake in the grass! I shoulda finished you when I had the chance!”
“You remember when I told you we didn’t come here with ill intent?”
She doesn’t say anything. She just lays there beneath Katia’s boot, staring up at me defiantly.
“I meant what I said.” I lower the pistol. “Let her up. Give her back the shotgun.”
Katia looks at me like I’m crazy as she removes her foot from Martha’s chest.
Sonny drops the shotgun into her arms and then jumps back behind me.
“That’s a hell of a stunt you pulled.” Martha struggles to her feet.
“Call it a trust exercise.” I’m watching her closely; watching the barrel of the gun and the placement of her trigger finger. “You don’t shoot me and I don’t shoot you.”
She nods slowly, the fat around her jawline pooling with each dramatic tip of her chin. “Well,” she sets the shotgun against the ticket desk, “I dare say it worked.” Her belly shakes with laughter. She extends a chubby, ring draped hand. “Martha Turkins, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“I’m Timmy. This is Katia and Sonny.”
Martha leans back against the ticket desk, next to her shotgun, arms folded across her stomach. “Lemme give y’all the nickel tour.”
9
It’s more like a penny tour. We make it to the second floor before I start to become dizzy and nauseous; the pain has become too much to ignore.
“Don’t be a baby.” Martha has cut my shirt away and is going after the pellets in my skin with a pair of tweezers from her medical bag.
“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing.” Katia sits beside me, wearing my hat and stroking my hair.
I wince as the tweezers yank another pellet free.
Sonny is outside walking the lot, making sure all the commotion didn’t attract the Rabid from the bottom of the mountain.
“My husband was like that,” Martha wipes away a fresh stream of blood with a balled up piece of gauze, “talked tough, walked tough, but show him a little blood and he’d turn to putty.” She shakes her head. “I loved that big-eared bastard. I miss him.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Katia says.
“Huh?” Martha looks up at her. “Oh, no, we divorced fifteen years ago. Came home on
e day and found him with his dick in the next-door neighbor. I just about killed the sumbitch. I split his lip and blackened his eye up good before he finally escaped through the backdoor. He came back the next day with the sheriff so he could pack his stuff. Guess he was afraid I was gonna lay another whoopin’ on his ass. I would have too, believe me, I would have.” She yanks another pellet from my shoulder.
The lobby appears to be Martha’s main living quarters. There’s a mattress, buckets of water, food stores, and enough guns and ammunition to hold off an army.
“How long have you been up here?” I ask.
“Since the beginning.” She rips the last pellet out and begins patching me up with a gauze pad and some tape. “There were four of us; me and three of my neighbors. We fought like hell to get up here. The road was clogged with them damn things. They were on every side of us the entire way up. Our truck stalled out on one of the bends and ended up rolling off into the woods. After that, everyone started dropping; neighbors went one-by-one. I survived, took the weapons, and hoofed it. I basically shot my way up here.”
“What about food and water?” I lay my head back so she can begin picking the glass out of my face.
“There was a good bit up here from the café; lots of non-perishables. I had some stuff from the truck too. As far as water goes, it comes out of the mountain about a mile from here, fresh and clear.”
Katia grips my hand as I squirm beneath the tweezers. “You’ve done well for yourself.”
“Settle down,” Martha wags a finger at me, “this next piece is near your eye.” She ensures my compliance before chasing the shrapnel. “What about y’all?”
“It’s a long story,” Katia says.
“Always is. Lemme make it simpler. Where y’all headed?”
“We’re looking for someone. But to be honest, we’re sort of stumbling around in the dark right now.”
“And you just so happened to stumble into my neighborhood?”
“I suppose we did.”
“What happened to this someone? They take off on you?”
I expect Katia to change the subject. There’s a tremble in her voice, but she soldiers forward. “We don’t know. They may have run off or they may have been taken or they may…well, we’re hoping for the best.”
The Rabid: Fall Page 5