The gift slowly revealed itself as a fully animated zombie tied spread eagle across the door to the store, his legs completely eaten off. He growled and snapped at the potential meals that looked up at him.
Lisa grabbed Skit’s sleeve and directed his view to the glass panel above his head. The word, also in blood, clearly said Art.
“Oh man, that ain’t even funny. Now I am going to be looking for Matt and Russell.”
“This isn’t a joke, Skit. This is fucking sick. Do you know how long it takes for someone to change once they are infected? And this bastard sat here and watched the whole time.”
“No, look at the other bodies. He sat on a roof and picked off zombies for a while before they got to him.”
“That’s how he would do it too. This fucker gets off on fear. Shit! How could this happen when we were only a few blocks away? There were operators working this area around the clock,” Lisa said as she continued to look at the man, noticing something familiar. She slapped her hand on Skit’s sleeve and pulled his arm hard.
“What?”
“It’s him, Skit; the guy with the flag yesterday. Look at his shirt—it’s him.”
“I hope you are enjoying my gift.” A voice drifted down from the rooftops to fill the street with the echoing drone of forced baritone mixed with pompous. His voice had to be amplified somehow but they couldn’t see it.
Lisa looked at the small-caliber hole in the heads of the zombies, noting that he was shooting a .223 or a 5.56.
“I would think there were enough zombies around to satisfy your blood lust these days, Web.”
“Web, huh? I like that and I am proud of you for knowing my name; Ally can remember well after her accident. Zombies aren’t very fun … kind of boring if you would like to know the truth, Rey,” Web said, causing Lisa to look at Skit in surprise.
Rey was the moniker he had just given her the night before. Could he have been listening? No, it had to be coincidence. The windows were closed and the tones were soft. There was no way he could have heard. Skit shrugged with a surprised and confused look on his face.
A muffled shot rang out, and the hanging zombie jerked once then stopped moving; a perfect, round hole in his forehead. Lisa gave a quick nod to Tonka, who quickly slipped around the corner of the building.
“Yeah, that’s right, Rey, taking care of your little dog will even be more fun than killing zombies,” his voice rang down through the street again.
“You kill my dog and I will end you tonight, Web. Do you hear me?”
“I do hear you and for some reason, I actually take you seriously. That is what’s going to make you so much fun.”
“You are a doctor, Web. We need doctors. Why don’t you just stop this crap and join us?” Lisa asked, knowing that was never a possibility. Of course, Web knew that too and laughed loudly.
“Oh yeah, I can see it now. Hey, maybe I could finish that gyno exam on Ally. That’s right, I know she’s there; I followed her progress all the way down here from Mount Ida. Even provided a boat for her … didn’t realize she was going to gash her head wide open on the propeller though. No, Rey, I’m done taking care of stupid people. Done rescuing idiots who shouldn’t even be considered part of the human race. They are nothing but bottom feeders who I would put back together just for the purpose of pushing them back into society to feed some more. I was glad at first when the apocalypse came, and then I was depressed because my favorite thing suddenly became a bore. Ahhh, but then God smiled and gave me a gift. You are my gift, Lisa, and I am enjoying every second of you.”
Lisa was excited about him sitting and talking so long, but there weren’t the resources available to do much about it. There were no squads or other officers to call in; there was only her and Skit. He must have been using some kind of amplifier to have his voice reach them so clearly, but she couldn’t tell from the tone like she could have if he’d had a megaphone.
“I have another surprise for you, Rey, and this one isn’t even of my own making,” he said as the sound of engines started to approach the next intersection. “You’d better get Skit indoors; it doesn’t look like they like black people all that much and I doubt they’ll be tolerant of a Mexican.”
Lisa gave a nod and Skit ran up to the next doorway without concern. Lisa knew he was in clear view of the doctor and that he was safe—he was part of the doctor’s entertainment. A new toy for the doctor to taunt. She suspected Web would eventually kill Skit, as well as her, but it wasn’t going to be from a long-range bullet in the head. Where was the fun in that for a sick fuck like the good Doctor Webber?
“I shouldn’t have to tell you at this stage of the game, but in case you were wondering, I simply must meet his children.”
He knew? But how had he heard us?
“Writing my name on that plaque and showing my picture to the city will make things a bit more difficult for me but, truthfully, will only add to the thrill. If I had really been all that concerned, I would have never let Ally go.
“Quiet now, here they come and don’t worry … I got your back,” Web said sarcastically before falling silent. Lisa detected movement much farther away than she expected. She walked out into the middle of the street and stood next to her new friend, Sedgwick, the massive mutt. He was a big lug, but he would fight when necessary. She had a visual picture of the beast crushing the entire head of a large zombie with his massive jaws. Not ever having been a dog person, it was refreshing to lay her hand on the back of his neck and rub while she watched the entourage appear at the end of the street.
They arrived in a mish mosh of trucks and SUVs in various states of repair. Some looked as though they were being readied for mud competitions while others looked somewhat worn out while sporting loud pipes. The only thing they had in common with each other was dust and rust; somehow, it perfected their image for survival in the new world. Flags, colors, and unrecognizable symbols placed randomly signaled that it was a group with a purpose … and that purpose didn’t look good.
The vehicles moved slowly so that several people could saunter alongside to rummage through cars and piles, turning bodies over and looking for valuables. ‘Valuable’ had taken on a completely different meaning; they took belts, boots, and anything that even resembled a weapon. The last vehicle to come from behind the buildings at the end of the street was a large, passenger-bus style van that looked as though it had been lifted from a school or rest home. Several heads could be seen in the windows but they all looked disinterested, preferring to stare blankly at the seat in front of them.
The main feature she saw was what her misguided ideals from pre-arrival had expected to see hanging on the courthouse. Confederate bars crossed their flags corner-to-corner, stopping inches from the center—but that’s where tradition ended, and hate stole its proud identity with a crudely painted swastika placed dead center.
Lisa never had a problem with the battle flag of the southern states. She felt it was a part of their culture and was about much more than simply slavery just as the Civil War itself was.
Who would have thought? It’s the fucking Ku Klux Klan. “Are they friends of yours, boy?” Lisa asked Sedgwick while she rubbed his neck. She was turned so that it would be hard to spot her charging the M4. She brought it back on her three-point sling so that the barrel pointed directly toward the front of the group.
A blond guy approached with a swagger that said he was filled with bad intentions. He was in his early thirties, naturally thin, with sharp facial features shaped as though they were carved from an apple and dried. His face broadened into a sneering, arrogant smile and he thrust his pelvis forward as he walked, taking long strides toward her. She knew what he was trying to imply, and to the helpless, it would have inspired fear. Lisa was far from helpless.
“Far enough, Holmes,” Lisa said from behind her dark Ray Bans, her SWAT cap pulled down close to her brow. She never got the opportunity to take the final tests, but she had been through most of the training and didn’t
feel guilty about wearing the cap she was issued months ago. The rest of her outfit under a tactical vest, belt, and boots was more hunter-casual.
“Holmes? What’s with that Holmes shit? I ain’t no spic! I don’t talk no jive talk; no ob low el Spanish-e-o, bitch.” His mockery included fabricated gang signs in an exaggerated display of pre-apocalypse street culture. He suddenly stopped, stood up straight, and looked at her defiantly.
Lisa scanned the group of vehicles. Through the windows of a guarded van, she saw several heads looking at the floor, as if they didn’t want to be involved in what was going down.
“You see, I’m a white man. White men speak properly, so get that gutter lingo out of my face!”
“Aaiiet,” she said, intentionally drawing out the slang. “Look, I don’t have too much time so, quickly, I would like to thank you for collecting all of this salvage, and if you want to pile it right here, I will call the reserves to come and pick it up,” Lisa said, trying to keep it all business.
“Are you on drugs chick-quita? This ain’t your shit. This is for the army all right … God’s army and we are here to collect.”
“Ahhh, you must not have heard my original broadcast. I see the misunderstanding. You see, everything that is in the city belongs to the city. That means it is mine. So step away from the vehicle and lay down your weapons. You will find more on your next salvage run. I figure we can meet here once, maybe twice a week, depending on how resourceful you are.”
“Well, aren’t you the little spark plug? I think I’m going to keep you as my own personal little darlin’,” the man said as two more men came up alongside him and started to level their weapons at Lisa.
Lisa saw the red dot appear on one of the men’s forehead, telling her the rifle was not military or it would be green and near invisible. She never even heard the shot like she did with the zombie in the doorway. The range must have been too great because she didn’t detect a spray out the back of the man’s head. He hardly moved from the impact; instead, he wavered for a couple of seconds before he fell face first, his brains scrambled from the ricocheting hunk of steel inside his head.
“What, do you think I came here alone? I should have him shoot your ears off for not listening.”
A splash from the side of the blond man’s head and him clutching it told her that he had just lost an ear.
How is he hearing all of this? And how can I so easily turn my back on him? she wondered, but deep inside, she knew the reason why. To think about it or to acknowledge it would open the doors to fear and dread. She couldn’t afford fear or dread right now.
A scream mixed with the sounds of a police dog in attack mode sounded from the back of the entourage. The sharp crack of a .45 followed, and the screaming stopped.
“Now, I will tell you one more time,” she started while watching the red dot bounce on the other man next to Slim. She held up her hand, hopefully stopping Web from taking the shot. She could almost hear him giggling with glee over the fear he was putting on the Klan members. He held his shot as the big man noticed the dot on his chest and froze.
“This is it; lay your weapons down and back away from the vehicles so that I may proceed with inventory.” The large man dropped his gun instantly and put his hands up. Two others did also, but a third man decided to defy the request and started to move forward. That man died. The sound of weapons dropping came to Lisa’s ears as men and women started to back away from their booty.
Lisa made a mock show of signaling in several directions like she was telling her people to stand down, and then slowly walked up to Slim, kicking the gun out of his limp grip as Sedge squared up alongside of him.
“What’s your name, Holmes? Or do I just call you My Little Bitch, Holmes from here on out?”
“Craig, M—”
“I don’t give a fuck about your last name, fool. Scum like you don’t deserve a surname,” Lisa said before keying her mic. “I need a pick up on my location, include troops and a deuce and a half.”
Craig’s shoulders visibly slumped as he fully realized that he was beaten.
“Now, let’s see what you have going on here now. Hopefully you don’t have anything illegal, like drugs or anything that might be punishable,” she mocked as she shoved the two men in front of her toward the van.
“Open the door, Craig,” she said. He leaned forward and opened the sliding door. The butt of her rifle slamming into his head forced him to the ground. Lisa then looked safely into the van.
“Craig, you dumbass. Rescuing survivors does not require binding them. And you got two white men in there. Why are the white men in there, Craig? Aren’t they your people?”
Craig hesitated and looked off into the distance, causing Lisa to stomp on his head twice.
“I asked you a question, Holmes; answer it,” she said as the sound of a Humvee came into view with others right behind it.
“Everyone should keep a couple of those for cooking and cleaning the house. Homos ain’t no good for real work,” Craig said, his face the mask of honesty.
Soldiers picked up on the scene and isolated the crowd.
“You know what? This is the one reason why I am glad for the apocalypse. You see, there are no more jails or judges. Expensive lawyers are things of the past. Out here, there’s only you and me. I’m the one who determines punishment for crimes out here. Murder, rape, slavery … all punishable in only one way, Craig. Do you know in what way these crimes will be punished, Craig?” Lisa pulled out the Rhino from inside her jacket.
“You’re bluffing,” Craig said as he looked up at her from the ground.
“In the last two days, I have put a gun to the head of some very honorable people—people that I liked—and I pulled the trigger, Craig. What makes you think that I won’t do it to you?”
Lisa smelled his courage seeping away with the powerful scent of fresh urine. People like him were nothing but trouble, and there was no way he wasn’t going to try this again down the road. He was a bottom feeder; it was in his very nature. If one more good person got hurt or was taken as slave by this man, it would be her fault if she let him go, knowing what he was. He didn’t deserve fanfare or an announcement or even a trial, as his crimes were in evidence right before her. How many more crimes were there before today?
Lisa once again pulled the trigger, knowing her decision was the best for what was at hand. Craig the slaver lay in a pool of his own blood and urine, staring uselessly at the sky. Craig was an afterthought now and the world was safer because he no longer existed.
She looked up into the faces of civilian militia and National Guardsmen, all showing shock and horror at what she had done. Lisa decided to put it back on them what she had gone through in order to make that decision.
“You have prisoners, but we don’t have any jails or courts. I’m leaving it up to you to decide what happens to them … but know this, if a hair on anyone’s head is harmed by one of these people in the future, the blame will be on you. Right now, their lives are in your hands. All lives are precious so you have to decide if you are saving lives by letting them live or do you save lives by doing what needs to be done. If you give life back to them, then their future actions are yours, and you will be the murderer. You will be the rapist, and it will be you who is responsible for the child or woman who is violated. Make your decisions; it’s all on you.”
A shot rang out and a Klan member fell to the ground dead, then another one, followed by another one after that. The group of responders stood silent and immobile as a whole, but there were a few who raised their weapons and decided to do what needed to be done without remorse while others hung their heads in shame.
“Fair enough; some can and some can’t, and there is nothing wrong with that. You and you.” Lisa pointed out each one who was willing to take the shot and pulled them into tight circle. There seemed to be a mixture of both military and civilian, and the word of Major Lindy rang through her ears once again. The United States of America is a civilian army,
welcome to the Army.
“I want you all to take note of what happened here today. This was more than just a lesson; I hope you realize that. We have the opportunity to reshape the world. How we go about that is important. We need people like you who are willing to make decisions.”
Lisa then looked into one of the cell phone cameras that was recording the entire event.
“These people were not executed because they were Ku Klux Klan members. They were not eliminated because they believed in something different than I do. They were killed because they were thieves, slavers, and rapists. They threatened my life and freedom, and that makes them vermin—vermin that needs to be exterminated. We are remaking the world right now … if I have any say in it, we will be free and refusing to live in fear from the living.” She stepped in closer. “We have enough on our plate when dealing with the dead; to have to struggle against those who wish to exploit the weakness of others is not something I will tolerate. I will repeat myself only one more time. Everything in this city now belongs to the people of this city, no exceptions,” Lisa finished and walked away with Skit and the two dogs joining up with her on the way.
They were two blocks down the road when they saw Web as he mock saluted her from a rooftop. She tried to bring her gun up but he was ready and ducked behind the lip. He must have tracked their every step the day before and set this up. A shudder ran down her spine at the thought of him tracking her for so long without her knowledge.
A rock came down from the roof and bounced in front of them. Skit picked it up and untied the note attached to it.
“Channel seven,” Skit read and Lisa switched her radio over.
***
“I admire the way you out bluffed those hicks back there. Ignoring them and sticking to your own agenda; that was brilliant.”
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