by M. Lorrox
A tiny drop of blood forms on her skin at the tear. She watches it for a few seconds, and then the wound closes and heals over. She works her hand inside her shirt, rubs the needle to make sure no blood lingers there, then smears the blood dry onto her chest. She takes her hand back out, the fingers with a small red stain on them. She licks them and rubs in saliva, removing any visible trace as her fingers dry.
She pushes the pin, more deliberately this time, out the other side of her shirt and closes the clasp. She glances around the room; she doesn’t see anything else to pack, so she zips up her large luggage and drags it behind her as she leaves.
Left in the room behind the door, either by design or by accident, is the red silk kimono. It sits in a rumpled pile on the ground.
Charlie plays with Minnie in her room. Their laughter gives Mary a soft smile. Downstairs, Rusty is barking by the front door, and Sadie lets him out. As she closes the door, Mary steps into the hallway.
Sadie sends her old friend a sad little smile. “You look like you’re all set to go.”
“Just about, yes. Could I trouble you for a drink before I go?”
“Of course.” Sadie motions toward the kitchen, and they walk in together. Sadie grabs a glass from the cupboard. “Water or blood?”
“Blood, please. Thank you.”
Sadie opens the fridge and pours out the last of the bottle of blood they had opened last night. A tiny amount in a pitcher is all that remains in the fridge. “Here you are.” She holds out the glass filled with dark, thick blood.
“Thank you, my dear.” As Mary reaches her hands out, she first cradles the glass together with Sadie’s hand, and after a slight pause, she takes the glass and slides her hands away from Sadie’s.
Sadie smiles and grabs another glass for herself, but she gets some water from the sink. She turns back to Mary. “Where are you staying in DC?”
Mary savors her beverage. She swirls the thick liquid in her mouth until it warms to her temperature, then swallows it down. “Mmm. Actually, I’m staying just outside of DC near the Pentagon, in Arlington, Virginia. Will you be needing a room?” Please say yes.
“When I arrive for the assembly, yes, I probably will. It would be lovely to stay in the same hotel; we could perhaps spend some time relaxing together.”
Mary smiles. “That would be nice. I’ll email you the hotel and my room details after I arrive.” She takes another large sip from the glass. She slides her tongue along her teeth in order to tear it, letting the blood soak straight into her raw flesh.
Sadie looks out the window to the backyard. The waterwheel makes a little splashing sound, and she imagines Charlie doing his tai chi and kung fu practice out there in its ambience. What are we going to do? Would Charlie become a guard? Could he stomach it, or would he go back to being a knight? Would we stay in DC? And the kids; we’d have to bring them along… Briefly overwhelmed, she takes a breath and lets her eyes dip down and slink closed.
Mary notices the change in her, and she gulps down the last of the blood. She sets the empty glass on the counter. “That was quite delicious. Thank you, dear.”
Sadie turns to her and forces a smile. “Of course. Can I get you anything else?”
“No, I must be going. Duty calls.”
“Yes.”
Mary grabs her luggage from the hall and walks toward the front door. Over her shoulder, she asks, “Will you open and close the gate for me?”
Sadie is walking behind her. “I will once you’re in the car.”
Mary stops at the door, sets down her luggage, and opens her arms for a hug.
Sadie steps into Mary’s arms and gives her a firm embrace. “Call me when you get into DC?”
“I will.”
In her car, Mary gives one last wave to Sadie.
Sadie waves back and closes the door, then walks to the garage to open the gate.
Before it opens, Mary frowns, looking out of her windshield. Looks like a nice house. I doubt I’ll ever see it again. I doubt they’ll ever see it again, either. Oh well. Some things are just more important than memories.
The gate drags open with the churning and clanging of the garage door opener. After Sadie hears the car pull out and honk, she hits the button again to close the gate. As soon as she hears the motor respond, she returns to the front door to look out the window, making sure no zombies got in. She doesn’t see any. Good, safe and secure. Her brow furrows. Where the hell is Eddy?
Craig turns off the county road and onto a dirt path through a field. “Roger’s supposed to meet us up here…if he’s still here.”
Jess, having gotten over the delay Eddy and Tomas had caused, shoots her cousin a sour look. “Oh, we’re only ten minutes late. Stop being so dramatic.”
“You don’t know Roger. He used to be military; he’s buttoned up pretty tight.”
Eddy is intrigued. Ex-military? Is he old? “Hey, Craig, what branch of service was he?”
“Army. He was a mechanic, but his leg got crushed when a lift failed. They amputated it.”
Jess’s eyes are wide when she looks at Craig then Eddy, then back to Craig. “Shit, that’s awful.”
Eddy looks at his own leg. I wonder if a vampire could regenerate a whole limb. I bet it could happen, especially if they were patient and didn’t mind constantly reopening the wound.
Jess asks Craig, “So, umm, is he in a wheelchair or something?”
“Ha!” Craig smiles and slaps his palm against the steering wheel. “Hell, no! The only wheels he pushes are the thirty-threes on his truck—” Craig’s eyes light up. “That’s right, I remember, it’s a Toyota Land Cruiser; that’s what he drives. Anyway, he’s got a prosthetic, and he manages fine with walking.”
Joe sits up, curious about this friend of Craig’s. “So, did they kick him out because he couldn’t perform the duties and everything?”
“Nope. They gave him an option: take a desk job in the supply warehouse or leave with his pension and an honorable discharge. He decided to leave; he says he’s too ambitious to just sit around all day. He bounced and then opened a garage to customize trucks and stuff. That Land Cruiser of his is really sweet.”
“Cooool…” Joe goes off in his head, picturing the pickup truck he wants to get someday. A big red one with an extended cab, with a roof carrier and safari lights…and dual wheels on the back. That’d be totally badass!
Eddy can sense Joe’s excitement. He’s probably thinking about a truck. He’ll love riding around with Roger. “So he’ll be driving that, with Jess, Joe, and Bill, right?”
Jess, pleased with the arrangement, nods. “Yyyuuppp.”
Tomas frowns momentarily, then relaxes. At least I’m involved. I’m one of them. He looks out the window. The sun pops out from behind a cloud and lights up the front row of trees bordering the field, but Tomas can only look for a moment; Craig is slowing down and is turns to park.
He pulls up and parks next to Roger’s SUV. Eddy checks it out and smiles smugly. He knows that his mom’s Jeep could eat Roger’s truck for breakfast. Just look at all that aftermarket crap!
Roger’s SUV is a silver blue, and it has a lot of chrome—everywhere. There are little lights on the roof pointed forward, fog lights on the grill, and a big military-style antenna off the back. The wheel covers are chrome, bolted on the front grill is a cutout in the shape of flames, and the exhaust tips shine in the sun. It looks immaculately clean. The rear gate is lifted open, and three pairs of legs hang off the edge.
Eddy roots around through his bag in the backseat while Tomas and Joe hop out. When no one is looking, he takes out the bottle of he opened earlier and takes a few sips. He notices the cargo vest he bought that morning in his backpack and puts it on—only to then remember the tags. He takes it back off, yanks the tags from the collar, then puts it back on. Here we go.
Bill and Sophia sit next to Roger in the back of his SUV. He’s wearing dark sunglasses, has a chiseled face with a three-day-old shadow of stubble, and has a
toothpick in his mouth. His short blond hair is roughed up, but it’s styled with some gel or oil. He wears a buttoned-up Henley shirt with a canvas trucker jacket tied around his waist. His dark-blue cargo pants are crisp and clean, as are his brown leather boots. He doesn’t hide his prosthetic; his right pant leg is shortened, hemmed neatly, with just a small gap for the shiny steel bar to reach out and into the boot. He frowns and spits out his toothpick when Craig extends his hand out to greet him.
“What the hell, man? You’re late.”
Craig shrugs. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” He motions over his shoulder to the others. “Took a little longer than I expected.”
Roger opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Jess cuts in. “It was my fault. Sorry, Roger.” She walks over to her cousin Bill and they fist-bump and blow it up.
-Pewgh-
Roger sighs. “Are you all up for this? This is no joke. I don’t have time to hold hands.”
No one is sure who should answer. Tomas stands tall and confident, looking at Roger. He’s ready to prove himself. Joe is trying hard to hide the smile from his face; he really likes Roger’s truck. Eddy crosses his arms, trying to look tough. He can’t help but send Sophia a glance; she’s smiling back at him. When his eyes meet hers, she sends him a wink.
He flushes and looks away, back to Roger, and then stands as tall as he can.
Craig answers for the group. “We’re ready, Roger, and trust me, you’ll be pleased with the team we brought.” He turns to Eddy and the other teens, pointing first toward Jess. “This is my cousin Jess; she’s got grit. And Joe, my other cousin, might know more about guns and ammo than I do, but he also knows all the roads around here. He’s been riding them on his dirt bike since, well, since he could reach the foot pegs, and as a passenger long before that.”
Joe laughs, and Jess nods, recalling fond memories of those day-trip adventures with their mom and dad.
Craig motions to Eddy. “This is Eddy. I’ve never seen a better marksman. Kid’s deadly.”
Roger tilts his head, studying Eddy. Hmm, we’ll see just how deadly, won’t we?
Eddy doesn’t even blink, but he does lift himself out of his shoes another quarter inch.
Finally, Craig points to Tomas. “This is Tomas. He’s sharp, and he knows the areas we’ll be working in. I think the plan should be to have the best shooters—Bill, Jess, Sophia, and Eddy—split between the trucks, Joe and Tomas as copilots and radio operators, and you and me drive. I think it’ll work out real well.”
Roger raises his eyebrow, and looks at Bill. “You met these kids before? They gonna cut it?”
Bill nods. “Well, I can speak for my cousins, but I don’t really know the other two. One thing Craig is right about, though—” he motions to Eddy, “—he’s a really good shot.” Bill smiles at Eddy and then glances back to Roger. “I’m riding with him!”
Eddy just smiles. Damn right I’m a good shot. Wait, where’s Sophia riding?
Tomas clears his throat. “I’ll also ride with Eddy.”
Roger takes a deep breath and starts to stand up out of the back of his truck. He doesn’t look pleased. Before he can get out of the truck, Sophia laughs.
“Well you sure are a popular one, Eddy.” She puts a hand on Roger’s arm as he gets up.
He looks back at her.
“How’s it sound if I ride with you, along with the cousins?” She smiles at him.
Roger pulls away from her, looking around at the others as he takes a step toward them. “What do you think we’re doing here, going to the fair? Shit, this is not a game.”
Bill hops up from the truck. “I was just joking about wanting to ride with Eddy. Sophia’s also a kick-ass shot. I’ll ride wherever you want.”
Craig steps forward toward Roger. “We know. Sorry, Roger. We’ll do what you think is best.”
Roger tries not to smile, but he is pleased. That’s right. I AM in charge here. He takes off his sunglasses dramatically and sighs loudly. His blue eyes are piercing with little flecks of silver. “Sophia, you’re with me, and I need a good navigator, so I’ll take Joe, and Jess too.”
Eddy glances back and forth between Roger and Sophia, trying to catch a clue of any secret interest between them. Is she into him? Can’t be; she’s a vampire! Yeah, she’s just playing him.
Roger grins and points at Craig. “You take the rest.” Enjoy the sausage fest! He turns around to face Bill and his truck again. “Now we’re short on time. Bill, get all the weapons ready while I set up the maps I’ve prepared.”
Weapons organized with their ammo are laid out on the ground between the trucks. Roger has everyone collected around the open gate of his SUV where he’s leaning over a duplicate set of maps.
Roger puts his finger down on the map. “We’ll meet up here, on the north side of Lake Junaluska. By then, we should each have a good tail of zombies behind us. Remember: do not kill them off as fast as you can! We need them behind us as we roll through town.”
He slides two fingers along highlighted routes on the map. “We’ll take these parallel routes down around Waynesville, and that’s when we start taking them out. The noise of us popping their skulls will draw out any ugly bastards that are lurking around.”
He points to an area to the southwest between Waynesville and the mountains. “When we get through to the other side, we’ll group up and take a mountain road to finish them all off.” He stands up while the others study the map, positioning himself to have a nice angle down Sophia’s loose shirt. “Quiz time: Sophia, where are we meeting up?”
She looks at the north side of Lake Junaluska again on the map. Where was that? Ah! She reaches her hand out to point, leaning farther over. The neck of her shirt opens more. “Right here.” She stands back up and looks at Roger. “Right?”
He smiles back at her, trying to hide that he has no idea where she pointed. He turns and looks at Bill. “Do you have the weapons ready? What’s the final ammo count?”
Bill smiles “We’ve got a lot. We’ve got almost a hundred rounds of .223, about eighty rounds of 30-06, and I’ve got twenty-five rounds for my ol’ trusty 45-70. For the two 12-gauge shotguns we’ve got a half case of wax-slugged dove load, so that’s one hundred and twenty-five shells, about forty of buckshot, and another forty or so of slugs.”
Joe’s eyes gleam with excitement. “Awesome.”
Roger tilts his head. “Wax-slugged dove load? Aren’t dove loads just for target practice?”
Craig winks at Joe and folds his arms across his chest. “Joe, tell the man what a wax slug is.”
Joe leaps forward in front of Roger. “Yeah! Dove loads are cheap and just for practice, right, but what you do is you pour the shot out into melted wax, then spoon the hot wax and shot back into the shell, then cap it off with more wax, and you’ve got a wax slug!”
Roger looks around. Jess, Bill, and Craig are nodding. Everyone else, however, looks just as confused as he is. “So, why would you do that exactly?”
“Oh, right. So what happens is, when you shoot it, it acts like a slug because all the tiny shot balls are packed together in the wax, but after penetration, it all breaks apart.” Joe holds up his hand to his face, looking through a ring he makes inside his pointer finger and thumb. “When it comes in you get a tight hole—” he throws his hand outward and opens it up, “—and then it blows out into a big mess!”
Eddy tries—and fails—to not imagine shooting a zombie in the head, and then seeing in slow motion the tiny pellets burst apart from the wax, tearing little holes straight through its brain, then shattering the back of its skull and exploding outward in a gray-and-pink mist of brain, bone, and blood. He imagines this in detail while some of the others are laughing. Eddy shakes the grotesque image from his mind and looks to Tomas to try and figure out what he missed.
Tomas shrugs.
Eddy looks at Roger, who is smiling but not laughing. Eddy asks, “Ummm, guys, what’s so funny?”
Sophia slaps her knee and
laughs even harder. “Didn’t you hear what he said?”
Eddy looks at Joe, who may be the most confused out of everyone. “Yyyyyeessss?”
Sophia leans forward, spits dramatically, and takes on the air of a macho man. “He said it comes in a tight hole and blows a big mess!” She gives Eddy a big, toothy smile.
Now everyone but Eddy is laughing. Joe drops his head into his hands. Sophia sits back, watching Eddy.
I don’t get. OH CRAP! Sex! Eddy joins them and laughs.
Bill smacks Joe on the back. “I think you’re a little young for that, cuz.”
Joe turns red.
Eddy also flusters. He shoots a quick glance at Sophia and she immediately looks away from him.
When everyone settles down, Roger whistles. “I take it you made these yourselves?”
Bill answers while Craig nods. “Yup, and actually, all these shells are hand-loaded. They’ve got a lot of heat on ’em.”
Roger is impressed, and he shows it. He tallies the ammo count in his head and nods. “Alright then.” He gestures to Bill. “If you’re keeping the 45-70 with you, then your team should also take the 30-06. That’ll make it about even with the .223 cartridges. The shells we can just split. That means each team will have around two hundred rounds.”
Tomas cautiously raises his hand just enough to get their attention. “What if we run out?”
Jess nods; she was thinking the same thing. “We must have blown two or three dozen rounds yesterday, and we were just screwing around.”
Sophia shrugs and speaks slowly, trying to add legitimacy to the simplicity of her answer. “Well, I think we can just speed up and drive away. Right?”
Tomas looks at Jess. They nod at each other, agreeing that would work, and both admitting to themselves that they should have realized how easy the solution was.
Roger stands and looks at the teams. “Okay, everybody got the plan? Good! Let’s get rolling.”
June is lying on her bed and staring at the ceiling when Skip knocks on her door.
“Can I come in?”
She feels all the blood flowing through her; she feels it moving quickly with her heartbeat, and no matter how hard she tries, she just can’t seem to calm down. “Come in.”