by Javan Bonds
This was interesting. Bob would observe for a while longer to try and get a feeling for these defenders. The mechanic wasn’t willing to rush headlong into peligro. Bob would gladly wait and see.
It appeared the federales had not overtaken this Alamo. The battle scene had been cleaned up by the next morning, the human cleanup crew only gathering up human bodies or equipment. Strangely, after the battle, every single blue corpse had mysteriously disappeared.
☠☠☠
The next morning, a knock came at the firehall door. Thankfully, Bob had not abandoned CJ and his family. He offered to approach the city of Guntersville alone and if the people appeared friendly, someone will be along shortly to retrieve his amigos. If it was safe to come out, Bob would give the rescuers a simple passcode to speak to CJ. “Still alive.”
He then began cautiously making his way down the mountain in the middle of the road. Almost to the causeway, he took in several stop and caution road signs driven into the pavement or hanging from telephone wires.
“Hands up! Approach slowly,” a synthesized voice sounded from somewhere in front of him.
Bob dropped his pack, slowly raised his hands in surrender, and walked forward. He was still not sure if these people were with Jefe or if they were banditos. Either way, he was fairly certain that they were not federales, so he supposed it could be worse. They could have simply chewed him up with machine gun bullets with no warning.
Bob was perplexed to see another man in a full suit of armor with a sword over his back standing behind a small shack on the other side of where the bridge used to be. The guard asked over a loudspeaker if he was armed, if he was alone, where he had come from, his name, and several more questions one would expect to be asked by an immigration officer. Bob guessed he had given satisfactory answers because a Jet Ski pulled a pontoon bridge over and he walked across. The mechanic spied a hotel with a gaping hole in the side. Clearly something had gone down here.
He had so many questions about what was going on and who these people aligned themselves with. The only thing he could think to ask was a simple question: “Randy Collins?”
2
Gone Like Yesterday
MORTIMER LESTER WAS still sweating when he drove away from the baseball fields with his lame cow. He had barely escaped being interrogated by those terrorist-looking soldiers. The geriatric was now pulling up to the guarded drawbridge on the river bridge.
Everyone on this damn island was as gullible as the nurses who worked at his former abode, the retirement home. Sure, his memory had been going with his age, but he was nowhere near the senile, demented coot they babied. He didn’t need help with a shower or dressing, he just liked getting a handful of ass and an eyeful when one of them bent over. He explained that he was tasked with doing some scouting north of here. The watchmen did not question him or even call for confirmation. They wished him luck and sent him on his way.
Mortimer laughed. These fools let him leave with no resistance. He took his time going up the highway, occasionally stopping at various abandoned gas stations to get a few sacks of snacks and drinks. As he ambled into Huntsville proper without seeing a soul and not even any of those soulless blue people, his mind drifted back to Robert Coe. He hoped nothing would happen to the innocent boy without him there. Mortimer felt he had been somewhat of a father figure to the lost young man. Even though Mortimer was incapable of having feelings for anyone, he almost felt a pang of guilt for abandoning the dumbass kid.
Before he got to the Parkway, he saw a shabby-looking couple of humans crossing the road. They invited Mortimer into their “safe” and fully stocked Burger King. He reluctantly agreed before parking in the empty parking lot. Expecting the losers would want to “share” his food, he decided to keep his mouth shut about his supplies. He entered a fairly clean building stacked with boxes of condiments. There were also cases of non-perishables salvaged from the neighboring Kmart. The old man was immediately offered a can of beans from one of the former employees of this establishment.
The young woman, Janice, had been working her way through college. She was luckily inside the building when the monsters swept through the city. Her partner, Darius, was a light-skinned black man that was in the right place at the right time. He just so happened to be inside the restaurant and eating a Whopper when things started going blue.
They and a few others barricaded themselves inside the building. Of course, it was eventually discovered one of their fellows taking refuge had received a bite. As was typical these days, an argument broke out between the survivors and the family members about what to do with the infected. Just as typically, the rest of the survivors finally agreed to allow the family to stay as long as they tied the bitten up. Like life was a movie, the sick refugee escaped his bonds and attacked several people before being put down. All of the bitten this time had been forced out of the restaurant and were soon seen stripping naked and running away.
☠☠☠
Their survival story had Mortimer entranced. He had to catch himself before blurting out that he wouldn’t have stopped had Darius been any darker. The geriatric shook himself, hoping the surviving blacks were not all hip-hop gangster like that fat one on the island. Maybe some of them could be trained to follow orders or at least be respectful enough not to randomly bite passersby. Being the only two survivors in a city of bones, Janice and Darius had obviously found themselves in a romantic relationship, and as much as Mortimer disapproved of interracial love affairs, he could understand their obvious human longing and thought it might not be so bad.
It was his turn to tell them the story of his long journey to Guntersville. He told them how the dictators on the island wanted him, a senior, to work like everyone else! The grumpy old man could not describe to these young people how it infuriated him to live under the palm of a warlord that believed in equality, that everyone was worth his work. Mortimer was old and he should be getting free things like Social Security! He knew what it was like to work; he had grown up picking cotton and walking everywhere. It was now somebody else’s job to do that. He decided these two were trustworthy enough to be let in on the secret in his truck. Even after he told them, he was surprised they didn’t really seem interested in leaving.
After several hours, it began getting dark. Since they all knew what happened when the sun went down, they offered to allow Mortimer a sleeping bag in what they called the guest suite (the former men’s restroom). A little while longer of sitting around and chatting, and then they were off to sleep in the dark and stuffy restrooms.
The old man woke with a groggy start. He felt like he was coming down from some psychotropic concoction the nurses had fed him to keep him from bothering them. He was pretty sure he had escaped from that vile nursing home full of those damn senile, old people.
His eyes snapped open and he realized the past month had not been a dream. He could remember Robert and Delilah and his escape from the island, soon after, and he’d met those two young people in Huntsville. That would fit.
The geriatric looked around to notice a tiled floor, tiled walls. He instinctively knew this was the Burger King. Next, he realized he was hanging upside down with his hands tied behind his back, completely naked. The senior could see what looked like a witch’s cauldron boiling near him.
He wasn’t sure what was going on. Mortimer realized he had not been infected when he screamed out, “Hey!”
Darius appeared from somewhere to his side and chuckled. “Good thing you are finally awake. I was afraid I wouldn’t get to say goodbye.” The young black man began laughing maniacally as he pulled Mortimer closer and closer to the cooking pot. “Oh! I wanted to thank you for bringing us the cow and the food in the truck. That will keep us still alive for months after we finish you up.”
The young man had turned Mortimer so he could see through the drive-through window. He noticed one of those blue people run past. That the sun was out made this happening alarmingly unusual. Mortimer asked, “So where’s your
bitch?”
Darius frowned at the term. He looked over to where Mortimer was looking. “She’s over at Kmart picking up a few things.”
The soon-to-be boiled old man coughed out a laugh. “I think she might have some company.”
☠☠☠
Janice turned into the pharmacy section where she planned to fill a buggy with feminine hygiene products. In just over a month, she had survived on the spares she kept in her purse. She was running low on the basics and would hate to be empty-handed when things occurred on their monthly schedule. Kmart actually didn’t seem a whole lot more empty than usual. She laughed and wondered how the franchise stayed in business before May Day. Just as she swept a shelf of Tampax into her cart, she could have sworn she heard something.
This giant building was completely quiet. Janice was positive she’d heard the front doors sliding open like someone was pushing them. If it was Darius, she would wait for him to call out. She decided just in case it was someone else, she would quietly make her way back to Sporting Goods and arm herself with some type of weapon.
The young woman grabbed the first easily accessible projectile weapon from the darkened rack. She found a camouflaged hunting compound bow and an accompanying quiver of arrows. She notched an arrow and pulled the string back to test it a few times. It was pretty tight, but she might need those eighty pounds of pull. She sat in the corner behind the counter and waited with her bow at the ready.
☠☠☠
After what seemed like hours of being ready for anything, she heard footsteps somewhere nearby. She was almost expecting bare feet for some reason, but from the sound of it, she was sure the feet were booted. She drew the arrow back and aimed where she expected the figure to appear. Janice had never used a bow at all, but she would at least attempt to protect herself.
She nearly screamed when the figure came into view. “Oh my God, Darius! Why didn’t you …”
He cut her exclamation off with a wave. He spoke in a low volume and gestured for her to do the same. “We have to get back. The peevies can come out in the daylight now.”
She was confused but dropped her volume. “How do you know? Why? Since when?”
He raised his eyebrows and knew that if she didn’t believe him, she would soon enough. “I don’t know why. I saw more than one of them walking around just outside this place. We have to get somewhere safe.”
She lowered her weapon. “Did you bring your gun?”
“You bet, sweetheart.” He grinned as he lifted the Taurus PT38 380 caliber semiautomatic pistol from his waistband.
She set the bow on the counter and opened the knife display case. “Let me get some extra defense.” She pulled out a few sheathed hunting knives and shoved them in her waistband.
The two cannibals cautiously moved to the front of the store, knowing they could just come back later for the supplies Janice had gathered. As they neared the open area leading to the checkout registers, they began hearing a strange barking. Darius drew his pistol and Janice readied her bow.
They rounded the corner to see two naked infected yipping at one another as they entered the store. As soon as the couple of humans laid eyes on the monsters, the couple of zombies laid eyes on them. Darius raised his weapon to defend his girlfriend and stepped in front of her.
The zombies were strange. They were, of course, blue and their eyes were still the almost glowing yellow as always, but it appeared they had pupils. The pupils were a yellow closer to the color of the center of an egg and were fixed on the humans. The ghouls began charging.
Darius shouted without looking back. “Run!” Janice obeyed and began walking backwards while watching the scene before her.
Darius popped off six rounds, putting at least three holes into the lead zombie. The wounds may not have been instantly fatal, but the peevie dropped, screaming in pain. Its partner simply left it behind, food becoming the only focus.
Darius dropped his mag and pushed a fresh one into the well but was unable to fire as the undead hurled itself onto his back-pedaling form, sending them both to the ground. He fought with the monster as it tried to bring its jaws down on his neck. It was scratching his exposed skin, drawing blood and surely attracting more of the creatures.
He screamed, “Janice, shoot it!” He brought his gun hand up and socked it in the mouth. Teeth and blood sprayed and he was hoping it would now be unable to bite him, but it still needed to be removed.
Was he actually asking her, a person who had never picked up a bow and arrow in their life, to now shoot one in his general direction? She immediately wanted to scream and tell him no, but she knew she had to do something to save her lover. The former Burger King employee approached until she was within spitting distance of the two wrestling on the floor. She raised her bow and aimed at the chest of the beast sitting on top of him. She drew the arrow back and let loose, praying she shot straight.
Just as she let go of her string, the animal above Darius grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him closer to it to try and gum him to death. The only priority of the virus was spreading infection. All the infected truly wanted, though, was a steaming mouthful of human flesh. When it pulled on Darius’s shirt, it raised him up to chest level. This all happened within a flash and Janice watched the arrow crash into her boyfriend’s skull. The young man’s body went rigid. The arrowhead ripped through his cranium and cut off major brain activity instantly.
Janice watched the arrow bury itself deep in her lover’s head. She was beyond horrified. She had just unintentionally murdered her boyfriend. Gray matter and blood leaked from the hole in the top of his head as his arms went slack and the zombie leaned in to begin munching on his succulent flesh. Darius’s neck was ripped open, blood spilling as the creature devoured every bit. It moved up to the soft parts of the face and started tearing his cheeks off in strips.
Janice couldn’t speak. Couldn’t cry. Couldn’t scream. She stood there with mouth agape and did the only thing she could do. Her bow clanked on the floor and she reached into her waistband to pull out a huge Bowie knife. She couldn’t live without the only man that had ever truly cared for her. She ran the blade deep across each of her own wrists, slicing straight into the arteries. Blood gushed as she sank to her knees.
With the scent of so much blood, the animal thing Darius had shot was able to make its way to the lunch buffet. Both males were sexually aroused with so much food in such close vicinity. She found it disturbing and disgusting to see the erection grow on the large blue creature chowing down on the love of her life.
The bleeding infected ignored the meal its partner was currently ripping into and chose to focus on the other morsel still pumping blood. Janice was hoping she would bleed out before the former human got to her. She noticed that the gushing blood was slowing as her life spilled out of her onto the floor. The monster sauntered up as her vision began getting blurry. It began lapping up some of the delicious, warm life blood and Janice lay back on the floor, feeling weak.
I love you, Darius. I’ll see you soon. Her final thoughts were of the man that had become her reason for living before she bled until she could bleed no more. The blue monster that stood over the body, now covered in fresh blood, bent down for a free meal.
3
Earl Had To Die
CAPTAIN PETUNIA “HAMMER” Sledge had lost count of how many bullets she had taken throughout her life. The pain from the newly patched-up scar given to her by Bobbitt just above her right collarbone was more than tolerable. That commie had shot her less than twenty-four hours ago. It would be a debilitating wound for most.
Thankfully, she was more than the average bear. She had gotten up late this morning. The sun was already up and Crow had already risen to perform her daily routine of casting a few lines. The Expert had been called over the radio by the mayor to meet him in the morgue/lab. This meant he was in the basement of the jail.
The ride to the county jail was ridiculously short. The Gorgon rolled into the parking lot less than three
minutes after leaving her floating barracks. After being completely without electricity for weeks, it felt somewhat strange to be pressing the button that called the elevator. Well, “completely without electricity” everywhere besides the Cora. The replica pirate ship had remained powered thanks to solar conversion by The Tech.
She rode down and made her way to the observation room. It was occupied by Randy, a couple of the deputies, and the mayor’s oldest son, who was leaning against the wall. This observation room had a window dividing it from the adjoining room that contained a naked and headless body lying on a table. The bottoms of the feet were the first thing Hammer saw.
She gasped in amazement. “That’s Earl!”
Before his elder could ask, Mo exploded with a laugh. “The guy you almost hooked up with? He doesn’t really have a head for you to recognize.”
Hammer gave him the stink eye. “I ought to smack you.” The captain turned back to the window. “I recognized his other head.”
The younger Collins made a rude noise of shock. She answered the unspoken question. “Because that’s the only penis I’ve seen in decades! That’s him.”
“Well damn, I didn’t even know they made them that thin.”
Hammer responded with a giggle. “Don’t forget about Peevie Claus!”
The younger man’s eyes grew wide. He opened his mouth and was about to say that he thought he was the only one who thought of that comparison for the large, bearded zombie in the woods outside Joseph A. Davidson Correctional Facility. She cut him off. “No, you aren’t the only one that called it that.”