Wicked

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Wicked Page 19

by John M. Davis


  Derick was the first to ease his bicycle out of the building and there weren't any of the walking rots in sight. The bright pink paint of his bike shimmered against a very nonjudgmental sunlight above. The early morning like cared nothing for the wicked or potentially even the end of the world. It had one job to do, and it did it well.

  “Man,” Lamar began to whisper as he pulled his bike from the building. “Before all of this shit, I would be getting ready for work. I guess I never paid attention to the morning sun before, you know?”

  Derick nodded and moments later he was on the move. Lamar fell in behind him, though he rode offset to the right.

  The backyard of the house in question was empty – the street out front was not. There were at least a dozen wicked roaming about and they were quick to spot the two colorful bikes and, most importantly, their riders. Derick could see the Hummer parked off to his right and aside from a few cracked windows and splashes of blood, the vehicle was largely intact. Unfortunately, they were going left. They would need to pedal hard.

  “Get to it!” Derick said as he began to pedal. Just like when he was a kid, Derick stood up and gave the pedals everything he had. They countered by pulling the bike up a very small (but steep) slope in the street.

  Lamar was right behind him.

  “How are we looking?” Derick asked.

  “Good so far,” Lamar shouted. “They're a good ten feet or so back and we're increasing the gap.”

  As he looked back, Derick continued his plan. They began to coast down the other side of the slope in the road and Lamar turned once again to plot the distance between the zombies giving chase and the two bikes that would easily make it to the house in question.

  Derick pulled his right foot up and then kicked the frame of Lamar's bike off to the right. Immediately, Lamar crashed into the front of a parked car. The sound of glass was loud enough to get the attention of any wicked who'd not yet given chase.

  Derick needed to protect Pam. Derick – the protector.

  He was pretty sure that the crash hadn't killed his “friend”, but he'd also factored that into his plan. The wicked would surely stop to finish Lamar's life for him, in turn giving Derick ample time to get back to the woman he loved. The woman he needed to protect. He wasn't about to let Lamar steal his woman, and Lamar's dream had sealed his fate.

  To hell with the traitor.

  In Derick's mind, the smile on his face was justified. He'd done what needed to be done in order to protect Pam. Sure, he'd need to wipe the smile from his face as he arrived at the house. He'd need to play the part – pretend to be upset over Lamar's sudden and “unexpected” demise. Derick would do whatever it took to protect Pam.

  To be with Pam.

  Chapter 12

  “Somebody's coming.” Gordon said.

  “It might be them,” Carlos replied. “Just keep a gun to the door until we find out.” he moved closer to the door as well. Easing to the corner of a small window.

  “It's Derick.” Gordon said with excitement.

  “Where's Lamar?” Pam asked.

  “Ain't sure. Derick is the one I see.”

  “Let him in,” Carlos began. “And lock the door up tight right behind him, but keep your eyes open for Lamar.”

  The large door opened and Derick practically dove in, stumbling and then finally catching himself by pressing one of his hands onto the end of the living room's large coffee table. He was breathing as heavily as a man could.

  “Where's Lamar?” Gordon asked.

  “I-” Derick began. Whatever it takes to keep Pam safe. “I don't know. He was right behind me-” Derick paused to suck in plenty of fresh air. “We were on bikes and we got separated. I had these two packs and he had one of his own.”

  “Did the wicked get to him?” Carlos asked.

  “I don't know.”

  “Shit man,” Gordon began. “Shit!”

  “Relax, we don't know anything yet,” Carlos began. “For all we know he could have ducked off into a nearby house.”

  “Were there a lot of rots out there?” A.K. asked.

  Derick nodded and looked directly at him. “Yea.”

  “Shit.” Gordon said again.

  “Look. We'll wait an hour or so for things to calm down and then a couple of us will go out looking for him.” Carlos said.

  “Count me in. I owe Lamar a couple.” Gordon said.

  “I'll go.” A.K. added.

  “OK. Good. But we need to wait a while for things to calm down. If Lamar was able to get to safety then he isn't going anywhere.”

  “And if he didn't?” Pam worried.

  Carlos looked at her and shook his head. If he didn't, there wasn't a damn thing any of them could do about it. They all knew that.

  “What the hell happened yesterday?” Carlos asked.

  By now, Derick's lungs had caught back up enough to speak without gasping for air between sentences.

  “I smashed a window and no alarm went off, so we moved to a second vehicle. A Hummer. I was getting ready to smash the window and spotted a handgun and several bags. We assumed that someone was prepping to leave but never made it. You know Lamar. The poor guy was thinking ahead – he was good for that. He thought that we should try and take the vehicle, rather than stick to the plan. It would give you guys a clear path to the house and we needed time to go through the vehicle.” he lied.

  “Not bad thinking.” A.K. admitted.

  “Yea, well it wasn't worth losing one of us. Now Lamar's plan may have cost him his life.” Carlos replied.

  “I hope not. I-” Derick began. This had proven itself to be the hardest part of protecting Pam. “He was just talking about the morning sun – how he'd never paid attention to it before. Man, he's got to be OK.”

  Derick managed to produce a few tears and quickly found himself in the arms of the woman he loved.

  “It's OK, Derick. I'm sure he's OK.” she comforted.

  Derick broke down into a full-on cry. He found that it was easy to do. In his mind, he wasn't heartless. Nothing about him wanted to be a killer or even a survivor, for that matter. Yet it was all justified by having a few seconds in the arms of a woman that he needed just as badly as he believed she needed her. The kind of woman that he would have killed the world for – every goddam zombie and person, too. Her embrace was all that mattered now.

  Pam was just a friend comforting another friend in his time of need. That was her view on the matter. But to a man who's heart had been ripped from its ribbed confines, trampled on and left to die, Derick needed this embrace more than he needed air to breathe.

  -

  That afternoon A.K. and Gordon returned to confirm the news. Lamar was dead. They'd seen the mangled bike and even the duffel bag and for them, it was enough. Lamar had died trying to execute his own plan.

  Derick rested in one of the rooms off from the living room and Pam took it upon herself to deliver the news.

  “Derick.” she said as she eased the door open. Entering softly.

  “Yea.” He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes.

  “They found Lamar's body. He's gone.”

  “Dead?” He managed to ask before bursting into tears.

  “I'm sorry,” Pam replied as she took a seat with him on the bed. “Derick I'm so, so sorry.”

  “One by one, I'm losing everyone I care about.” he said.

  “Growing up, I learned to deal with loss,” she began. “My father left us when I was young and I watched my mother drink herself to death. By the time I was legally an adult, I was already alone. Sure, guys would pay attention to me but I wasn't interested in that, you know? I just didn't want to be alone anymore. There have only been a couple of times since then that I've felt wanted. One of them was being a part of this group, and finally having a handful of people who wanted me here. In some strange way, this experience has been good for my soul. The other was every single day when you came into the diner. The way you smiled at me...it felt different than all of
the other smiles.”

  “Thanks...I think.” He replied.

  “Yes, thanks. When you told me about your feelings, I wasn't prepared for that. Derick, I was overwhelmed. I didn't know what to do or say-”

  “Just let me be here,” he began. “You said that we all are trying to deal with this in our own way. Some of us are carrying the biggest gun we possibly can in order to feel safe. Pam, in order to deal with this I need to be needed too, you know? I wasn't trying to overwhelm you. I wasn't. I just need someone to look after. It gives me a reason to get up each morning because otherwise, what's the use in fighting.”

  Pam nodded. She then placed her soft, warm hand on top of his.

  “You can look after me.”

  He nodded and there was no kissing. None of that. Just a very warm hug – an agreement sealed with a heartfelt embrace.

  That was all they needed.

  Two days had passed.

  Long enough for the survivors to settle in if such a thing was possible. They'd grown used to the boundaries of the large house, which included: two bedrooms (one of them very large), a luxurious living room, an elegant kitchen, two bathrooms (one of them much smaller than the master bathroom), a sitting room, and a large glass-shelled patio that was located on the second floor of the home. It overlooked the water, as well as the backyard and small dock on the water. There was no boat at the dock, and the survivors had come to the conclusion that whoever had lived here had ultimately decided to leave by boat.

  The master bathroom was also located on the second floor, as was the master bedroom. They had deemed this area “Pam's” area, as she was the only female. Also, through convict ingenuity, Carlos had realized the large window of the second floor served a great purpose.

  The house had water, just not hot water. So they could run a tub of cold water, let it sit for hours, and the sunlight would eventually magnify its way through the window and heat the water. Not up to the level of a normal hot bubble bath, of course, but enough so that they could finally clean themselves up a bit.

  Pam had gone first. She lay in the bathtub and did her very best to forget about the hell outside for just a few minutes. The water had still nipped at her with cold, at first, but her body had quickly adjusted to it.

  “We've got almost everything we need for an extended stay,” Carlos said. “We've got water. We have a large iron gate outside, plenty of room in this house-”

  “Almost? Derick asked.

  “Whoever had this place, didn't just leave out on the fly. They took their time and wiped out almost all of the food on their way out. We have enough food for a day or two, tops.”

  “Then we need to go to some of these nearby houses and have a look around,” Gordon said. As he did, he bit into an apple, seeming to have very little concern for their food supply.

  “Normally I'd say yea, but we just lost Lamar. It's a lot more complicated than just making out a grocery list and going to the store. These things are killers.” Carlos replied.

  “But we need food – you said so yourself.” A.K. replied.

  Carlos nodded.

  “It's going to be dangerous from here on out. There's no getting around it. We can draw straws or whatever in the hell-” A.K. began.

  “I'll go,” Derick volunteered. “I saw enough of the neighborhood to almost pinpoint which houses I can get into without being seen.”

  “Somebody needs to go with you,” Carlos nodded. “It'll be a lot safer out there in pairs. You're liable to get killed out there on your own.”

  “But I-” Derick began.

  “No man. I appreciate the effort, but we need to be smart out things if we're going to survive. Two people go out each and every time.” Carlos insisted.

  “I'll go.” A.K. said.

  “Good. You two get some bags together and head out. Gordon and I will stay back here at the fort with Pam. The next time we make a trip, I'll go and take Gordon with me.”

  “Sounds fair enough.” A.K. replied.

  “Try to find steaks.” Gordon said.

  “Yea.” Derick replied, casting a look of sarcasm.

  “Listen,” Carlos said as he ushered A.K. off to the side. For a moment, Derick became alarmed by the notion. He'd hoped that all of the killing was done. He hated that part of being Pam's protector. “Try to find a small boat if you can. We don't need it today, but it'd sure come in handy if we had one at the dock. Just in case.”

  Derick overheard the conversation but pretended not to. He quietly breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed what bags he could. Four of them in total.

  “You guys take one gun,” Carlos said. “That will leave us a pistol and a shotgun to defend the fort if it comes down to it.”

  A.K. turned to look at Derick.

  “You're a better shot than me,” Derick said with the same childish grin he'd become known for throughout the group. “You take a pistol and I'll bring a knife.”

  “OK, kid.” A.K. replied.

  Just then, Pam began down the right-hand staircase of the living room (the left-hand staircase led to the patio). She wore her pants, but a man's white tee shirt. It was the only thing she could find in the house that was clean and remotely feminine.

  “You're going back out?” she asked.

  “We have to. Food's running low.” A.K. replied.

  Derick walked to her and didn't put his arms around her – not with everyone else present. Instead, he looked into her eyes as deeply as a man possibly could. “They'll protect you while I'm gone. I need to make sure we have enough resources.” he whispered.

  Pam nodded and smiled. Tears built up in her eyes but dared not show themselves. Not with everyone present. “Be careful.”

  “Just be here when I get back.”

  Again she nodded, smiling wide.

  “Ready?” Derick asked as he turned to A.K.

  “Ready as a teenager waiting on the pop music awards,” A.K. replied with a grin. “I always hated that boom-boom shit.”

  Each man grabbed two duffel bags (one of which had made its way all the way from Bass Pro Shops) and readied themselves at the door.

  “The yard's clear.” Gordon said.

  For a moment, his comment took Carlos back to a time when the yard meant something very different. Only a convict would understand.

  “When we bolt, we need to hit the right-hand side of this gate. It was the least populated when I came in if you know what I mean?”

  “You just lead the way, kid. Try not to get us killed.” A.K. replied.

  -

  Several minutes had passed and both men had stormed away from the house, scaled the gate and ran by at least a dozen houses. Being very careful to stay near the hedges and ducking out of sight often. There were certainly plenty of wicked out and about, but they were completely unaware of two men skirting around.

  “Not to be pessimistic here, kid, but we've passed a lot of damn houses. We should be looting them instead.”

  “About that,” Derick whispered. They remained hidden in plain sight behind a very large string of shrubs. The kind that rich people pay to have trimmed into fancy designs. “Listen, I'm thinking long-term. The houses nearby – we're going to need those to stay stocked.”

  “What the fuck do you plan on doing then, planting a garden?” A.K. asked.

  Derick pulled a set of car keys from his pocket. “I still have these. Less than a block away, there's a nice white Hummer with a full tank of gas and I've gotta believe that there's a grocery store somewhere nearby. Rich people don't like to put a lot of effort into shopping.”

  A.K. looked at him and for the very first time, he considered Derick a man. A real man, not some bumbling teenage boy who played video games at night. This outbreak of infection and its aftermath had changed Derick for the better. Or so he thought.

  “Not bad, kid.”

  “The bad news is that there's no way in hell we're getting to the Hummer without being seen. The good news is that these things are slow and I believe
we can get to the SUV and get out of here before half of them even realize what's going on.”

  “Then it looks like Gordon might get those steaks after all.”

  They waited quietly for several minutes, hoping for a break in staggering wicked like most people used to wait for a break in rain clouds before rushing to their car. Finally, it looked clear enough for adrenaline to set into Derick's veins.

  “Go!”

  There was no warning ahead of time – no ready or set, hell even Olympic sprinters got that much. Nothing. A.K. watched his friend bolt from the hedges and in doing so, he grabbed the attention of several wicked. He'd planned to chew Derick's ass for it later.

  “Shit.” A.K. growled as he, too, bolted from the hedge and found himself relying on Derick's sense of direction as Derick was the only person who knew where the SUV was.

  He was a fast runner but found it tough to match Derick stride for stride. You better not leave me out here, you little son of a bitch. A.K. wasn't sure why the thought had entered his mind, but it did. If Derick were to outrun him, get into the SUV and take off, the former prison guard would have been a dead man. He wasn't sure how many of the growling dead were behind him, but it was a pretty big number. They filled now filled the intersection.

  Derick turned right and began coasting down a small hill, making no real effort other than picking his feet up and concentrating on not falling. Soon after, A.K. topped the hill and saw the white Hummer, just like Derick had promised.

  “Hurry up!” Derick yelled.

  No shit, kid. A.K. thought, and he'd do more than think it later after he got to safety and caught his breath. Right now he was putting the soles of his feet to the pavement like he was running for president.

  The moment he reached the Hummer, A.K. grabbed hold of its door handle, paused, and then opened the door. Sucking in air like he'd not done in a very long time – if ever.

  Derick put the key into the ignition and unlike some fucked up horror movie, its engine rumbled to life on the first turn. They wasted no time blacking the road with a thin layer of their tires, leaving a hundred (possibly more) zombies behind to starve.

 

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