The Zombie Plagues (Book 2)

Home > Other > The Zombie Plagues (Book 2) > Page 18
The Zombie Plagues (Book 2) Page 18

by Sweet, Dell


  He wondered how soon they would find her, or if the birds and other wildlife would find her first. He would love to stick around and watch, but he had to be moving.

  He thought about what Alice had told him about being April Evans lover. He could use that. He could use that when he caught up to April Evans. Now they both had something in common. They had both been Alice's lover. He chuckled at the thought. He reached his car, climbed in and started it up. He picked up the cell phone and dialed Tommy's number as he pulled out of the parking lot and passed the empty toll booths.

  "It's Jimmy," he said when the phone was answered. "Here's the license number of the vehicle were looking for." He ran off the license number, make and model of the Jeep that Billy and April had purchased from Bob's Easy Auto. He gave their names and descriptions, and then went into an explanation of what he believed had happened. Tommy assured him that he would have the vehicle looked for and let Jimmy know if it was spotted.

  "They have the drugs. All of it. The cops have part of Carlos. I imagine the rest of him is at Neo's... I'll take care of that," Jimmy told him.

  "I'll let Jefferson know about Carlos. I'm sure he'll be happy. I'll fill him in on the rest too... What else is there?" Tommy asked.

  “Tommy... Tommy, it's not my business, forgive me, I don't mean to pry, but...”

  “Small silver cases,” Tommy said with a sigh. “Three, to be exact: Small cartridges inside two of them... Look like those CO2 cartridges we used to have for our BB guns when we were kids... The other one is a glass vial...”

  Jimmy waited, but Tommy said nothing else. “Okay... I needed to know what to look for... In case they opened the bags, Tommy.”

  “Did you ever think about living forever, Jimmy?” Tommy asked suddenly.

  “What? Live forever like... Like a vampire in the movies?” Jimmy asked startled into the first reply that slipped into his head.

  “No... Live forever like a man... Like a man who doesn't die, Jimmy... Never mind. Stupid question... Get me what I need and there might be something unimaginable in it for you, Jimmy. Unimaginable... Need anything else from me?” Tommy finished quietly.”

  "Nothing for now," Jimmy told him. "I'll be in Rochester in a few hours. I'll let you know later in the day what I find." He hung up and concentrated on driving as best he could. The words Tommy had said echoing around in his head. A few miles down the road he called Vinny back.

  "Yeah... I appreciate it... Tommy appreciates it... Listen, those two kids got a large amount of... Let's say product on them. I'm talking huge: Pounds; up into the millions, high multiples of them... There can't be too many people that could handle a buy like that, still... I thought you would... No... No... Yeah, keep your nose to the ground. Let me know... Tommy will be very generous... Thank you," he hung up and concentrated on driving. He glanced down at his watch, almost 6:00 AM.

  Jones Beach State Park

  Route Three

  Sammy and Don

  The sun was up and Don circled carefully round the picnic table looking down at Alice. The gulls had been at her, but only for a little while. The rest of the cuts and missing pieces had been done by somebody with a sharp knife.

  He was still in shock. He had been at the trailer park; April's trailer had held nothing: Missing clothes, same as Billy's place, when he and Don had been called to respond to the public beach which was only 10 miles down the road. They had only told him that it might be his missing female. He and Sammy had made it in less than ten minutes.

  He had been shocked when he had seen it was Alice tied to the table. And the torture marks on her body had been an even bigger shock. He had just left her at work a few hours before. How could it be her? But a call to the young kid, her boss, had revealed that someone he believed to be another cop had walked her to his car shortly after Don and Sammy had left. He had gotten to the bottom of that, and the description, tall, short cropped black hair, the gray at the temples, hard looking, casual clothes, pullover sweater and a dark colored coat had hit home: The guy who had walked into the store. He had replayed it two dozen times and the guy's description was now out on the radio. The car had been a gray sedan, and he had remembered the first three digits of the license plate number. It was the best he could do. The whole ID would get pushed statewide in a short while.

  The techs arriving even now were shocked. It was a small area, crime happened, even murder, but not like this, not usually. They set about doing their jobs though. Don stepped back to where Sammy was, lit a cigarette and watched.

  Sammy looked up at him.

  "Sorry," Don said without offering to snuff the cigarette.

  "Don't be," Sammy said. "This shit keeps up; I might take up smoking again myself." Sammy looked down at his watch. "Only seven, it's gonna be a long goddamn day," he said.

  Watertown New York

  Richard Dean

  "Why would you tell them something like that?" Ronnie Lee asked.

  "Listen," Rich said. "It's a couple of kids. The one kid used to work for me. Not the brightest..." He sighed "They have some shit that's hot. I mean real hot. I don't know where they came by it, but I know where it came from, and all those guys are dead. All you gotta do is take it off their hands. Sell it, you and I split the profit," he said.

  "And how does that work. Take it off their hands? Steal it? Is that what you mean?" Ronnie Lee asked.

  "Yeah, well, yeah, you'll have to. I mean you deal on a big level. You've done some shit same as me... Don't tell me you haven't... Look, I'll be blunt. I can send them right to you: Right to you. They will walk right in to where ever you need them to walk in to. Put a bullet in both of their heads and dump them in the nearest swamp: That's why you got gators down there. Take the shit off their hands. It's that simple, Ronnie lee. That simple," Rich told him.

  "You are crazy, Rich. You want me to kill a couple of kids for a few pounds a weed: A little coke? How much H…? Even if it's an ounce I'm not killing anyone for it: You're fuckin' crazy, Rich," Ronnie Lee told him.

  "Listen, goddamn it! Do you know who Tommy Murphy is? Huh? Or Jefferson Prescott? Eh? Names ring some bells? Those are the guys who got ripped off. I'm talking serious, large amounts of money. It's out there that they want it back, and how much it is too. You just haven't heard about it yet," Rich said.

  "And I don't want to hear about it if they're involved. It would be like stealing from them. They'll send someone to take care of me. Make me dead. No fuckin' thanks. How much, if it's so much, how much? I know I wouldn't touch it if it was a half million bucks. No fuckin' way. No way. It wouldn't be worth it," Ronnie lee said over the phone.

  Rich held the phone away from his ear, when Ronnie was done he spoke. "Neither would I. How much would you do it for Ronnie? How much?" Richard asked.

  "Don't be stupid, Rich. Don't be." Rich cut him off.

  "How much? Just say it so I know where we're at," Rich said.

  "I'm serious, man, you're talking shit. Just bullshit," Ronnie lee said. "I don't know man... I guess I probably would do it for a half a mil. That means a real mil. split between us," he said at last.

  "Fifteen to twenty" Rich said.

  "Time?" Ronnie lee asked.

  "No. I mean fifteen to twenty million dollars of product. Those two kids are carrying it around the fuckin' country. Fuck the shit right out of half a mil. each. Do you think I'd fuck around with turning on Jefferson for any reason? I wouldn't, so you know it has got to be big. Fifty, fifty. Seven to ten mil. each," Rich said. “It's fucking incredible just to say it like that.”

  "Yeah... Yeah, I'm down with that shit, man... Why didn't you just say so, man? Holy fuck. Yeah... Yeah... Okay, what do I got to know?" Ronnie lee asked.

  Rich laughed and began to explain the situation and describe Billy and April. He looked at his watch, 8:00 AM he saw. "They'll be to you in about twenty five hours or so if they drive straight through," he said. "I'll let you know as I know."

  Billy Jingo

  "Hey," Billy sai
d. They were stopped by the side of the road where he had been able to get a signal.

  "Billy," Rich said. "I got it covered, but it's gonna cost you a little for me, setting it up for you... Are you okay to say, a hundred grand?" Rich asked.

  "You can guarantee it for that?" Billy asked.

  "Right to his door: Money's not an object. He's a legit businessman too. Owns a couple of businesses down there, he won't screw you over. Whatever it's worth is what he'll pay. Only thing is," Rich said.

  "A catch? I figured there would have to be a catch," Billy said.

  "It's small. I can vouch for you. And I did, but he's not going to bring that kind of money someplace. You'll have to meet him on his turf. Where he says to, where he feels comfortable... That's all. You play by his rules, you get your money, and he gets the stuff... Will that work?" Rich asked.

  “Hang on a minute," Billy said. He turned to April and explained the deal. She agreed to the hundred grand, and Billy took his hand off the phone.

  "Okay, but how do I get your money to you?" he asked.

  "Easy. Get one of those air express envelopes, drop it inside and mail it to me," Rich said.

  "After the deal is done?" Billy asked.

  "Hell yeah. I Trust you, man. After the deal is done," Rich said.

  "Okay," Billy agreed. "We're good with that."

  "Cool," Rich said. "Call me tomorrow and I'll have better directions. For now it's just Southern Alabama. You're going to Mobile. I'll talk to my man, his name is Ronnie lee. Just like that, Ronnie lee, all one name. I'll talk to Ronnie lee and get you directions... It might be him who calls you back... I'll give him the number you gave me... Tomorrow morning? About this time?"

  "Yeah," Billy agreed. "Until then," he clicked off.

  Billy turned to April. She looked back at him.

  "He did everything just right. Kissed my ass hard too, but it feels wrong," Billy said. "Rich was never that impressed with me. I wasn't in his crowd, you know? I didn't sell really big like some of those other guys. Now he treats me like gold? Like we were best buds? And he's okay with me sending his hundred grand fee after we make a deal.” Billy shook his head, glanced off into the scrub brush that lined the side of the road and then continued “The Rich I know would never do that... Something just feels wrong about it," Billy said.

  "Then we won't do it," April said. "We don't even need it, Billy... You're right... We could just say to hell with it. Throw it in the river or something."

  "We'll play it by ear," Billy said. "Maybe we'll set some rules of our own tomorrow... For now we'll just keep driving, what do you think?" he asked.

  "The same thing: We have to go through there to get to Mexico or at least around there to go that way. If it feels bad, we'll back out; just keep it moving," April agreed.

  They got back into the Jeep and backed out onto the highway.

  Ben Neo's Apartment

  Rochester New York

  Jimmy West

  Saturday afternoon

  Jimmy spent most of the afternoon disposing of the body at Neo's place and cleaning up the mess in the refrigerator. He finally found the shelves and put them back in, then went shopping and put the stuff that he purchased into the refrigerator.

  He searched the rest of the house, but it was obvious that someone had beaten him to it. Clothes had been pulled out of the closets; including women's clothes. He hadn't known that Neo had, had a woman here. He wondered who the woman was, and wondered who it had been who had searched the house... Her? The only thing that really made sense was the two kids again. The locks were undamaged; whoever did it had a key. Jimmy knew Neo well enough to know that he kept a spare key in his wallet. If they got his wallet, they got the key: If they got the wallet they also had the address.

  A wife, he asked himself? The women's clothes bothered him. He couldn't put it together in his head with what he knew about Neo. It had to be something else, a wife just didn't fit. And where was she now? Had she been here when the kids came here, if it was the kids? Was it her, the mystery woman?

  Long hairs in the bathroom waste bag: Black; the same in a hairbrush he had found in the top dresser drawer in the bedroom along with several drawers full of clothes. If she had been here, why did she leave it all? Had she taken only what she needed and left the rest? After all, much of it had been pulled out and there did appear to be empty spots on the closet rod where hangers had been. Or maybe he just wanted to see it that way. Just because there was a bare spot didn't mean there had been something there. He had not found any spare hangers, in fact, so if she had taken clothes she had taken the hangers too.

  He came out of the house and pulled the car around front. The back of the house was designed to bring nearly anything in or out of the house without detection. Neo had planted dense shrubbery and built an overhang that lead directly into the garage. Nearly the entire narrow entrance was also hidden from view by trees and a six foot tall wooden privacy fence. So he had loaded the body and a garbage bag full of stuff from the house at the back of the house. He had decided to remove all the women's clothes. No rhyme or reason, just a feeling that they shouldn't be there when the cops came to check the place, and he was sure they would be here eventually.

  He looked across the street: A blind kept moving on the second floor of the house over there: An old brownstone apartment building; second floor, front right apartment. Okay, he told himself. He hated loose ends. He pulled out, drove down the block and around the corner. He pulled to the curb, got out and fed the meter. A ticket at this point wouldn't do. He locked his car and walked to a pizza shop on the corner.

  Marion

  Marion watched the man in the car pull away.

  "Fred, I tell you, something is not right. This guy I've seen over there before. But he's never pulled around back like that, like he owns the place," Marion said.

  "I wouldn't worry about it," Fred said. "Probably hot for each other; just being careful. Drugs make you do funny things," he said. He had allowed himself a second drink for the afternoon: He turned back to the football game he had been watching.

  "I don't know," Marion said. She came over to the couch and was about to sit down when someone knocked on the front door.

  "Your friend Art, probably," Marion said as she got up and walked to the front door.

  "Who's there?" she asked through the front door.

  “Pizza delivery, Ma’am, apartment Two-A, right?" The voice asked.

  Fred shook his head. "I didn't order one behind your back," he said.

  "We didn't order a pizza," Marion yelled through the door.

  "But it's Two-A... It's paid for," the voice said.

  "Well for Christ's sake if it's paid for open the door, Marion," Fred said.

  She frowned. "You did order it. You know you're not supposed to have pizza," Marion chastised as she threw the dead bolts and opened the door.

  Jimmy smiled, the pizza box balanced on one hand. He handed the box to Marion and she smiled back. He reached behind himself, pulled his silenced 9 mm and shot her in the forehead. The 9mm chuffed, nearly silent; Marion folded and dropped to the floor with a heavy thump. He stepped quickly into the room and shot Fred as he was getting up out of his recliner to see what the racket was about. Fred collapsed back into his chair.

  Problem over, Jimmy thought. He bent down, picked up the pizza, which didn't seem any worse for the wear, and stepped back out of the apartment. He closed the door behind him. He whistled as he hit the sidewalk, opened up the box, took out a piece of pizza and ate it on the way back to his car.

  Just before he turned the corner a city police car came up the street and pulled into Neo's driveway.

  Tight, Jimmy thought as he tossed the pizza on to the passenger side of the front seat. That was too fuckin' tight.

  Watertown New York

  Jefferson County Transfer Station 2

  Sergeant Alice Tetto

  Alice backed the car around to the open container; late afternoon was a perfect time.
The county residents not in evidence: The large trucks done with their routes for the day: The dump about to close down for another day. Whenever she had something to dispose of and she needed privacy, she timed it so that she was here in the late afternoon just as she was now.

  Sergeant Smith had met her on a back road on Fort Drum. That was not as risky as it seemed. Fort Drum had been a small winter camp back in the early 1900 hundreds: When it had expanded the first time from Pine Camp to Camp Drum it had incorporated the small village of Leary. The whole township: Farms, streets, the Leray Mansion, fields. At the third expansion, when it became Fort Drum most people had forgotten about the old township and its farms and roads rotting away on the reservation.

  When Alice had come to work for Major Weston at Bluechip she had come from Drum. Re-assigned to bridge a gap, so she had thought. She had found out after that Weston had requested her specifically. Probably after reading her personnel file.

  She had a certain propensity for violence. Her psychological evaluations showed an aptitude for following orders without question, and a certain flexibility of morals that some would find alarming, but which the government had already used her for more than once. Killing didn't seem to affect her the way it did others.

  She had served in Afghanistan and watched fellow soldiers fall apart when it came to killing. It didn't bother her at all. Killing was part of the job. That was how she looked at it then: That was how she had explained her lack of apathy to the shrink that had debriefed her when she had been reassigned after the second tour to Drum. It was nothing special; it was how she was built.

  Weston had embraced that side of her, and the old farms and fields hidden in the lost recesses of the base had become the perfect place for her to dispose of problems for him.

  Unfortunately, the base was used more and more lately as a training facility. Because of that it had become somewhat unpredictable for her to dispose of problems there. The last two times she had nearly been caught, and that had forced her to adapt to a different strategy. The transfer station had proven to be the perfect alternative when there were large troop placements training or on maneuvers at the base.

 

‹ Prev