by Adam Sifre
Nothing but the best for my new friends.
After filling the container, he took off his belt and tied it around the nozzle handle so that it remained in the 'on' position. He let the hose fall to the ground where it continued to pump gasoline in a rapidly expanding puddle, the hose slowly snaking back and forth.
Still whistling, he took the gas container inside the Stop 'n Go. He started with Earl and Stoat and then doused the surrounding food displays, walking backward toward the door. Once outside, he continued walking the can backwards to the pump, where a small lake of gasoline had already formed. Wisely resisting the urge for a smoke, and avoiding becoming the latest recipient for a Darwin Award, Jon waited for Lake Exxon to reach the shores of Lori's car. Slowly he made his way down the street. He took one of the titty mags out of his back pocket, fished out his trusty Bic lighter and lit the skin rag on fire.
Maybe a minute until the gasoline makes its way here.
Satisfied they'd burn long enough, he limped over to his new wheels. He slid into the driver's seat and had just shut the door when he heard a quiet woof. The gas pumps were blazing. A small line of flame raced from the burning pumps to the Stop 'n Go.
Imagining Earl just starting to twitch again, Jon smiled.
"It must suck to wake up toasted."
The fire quickly spread and in seconds everything was in flames.
Would have looked cooler at night.
Three hours later as he crossed over to New Jersey, Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes were blasting from the CD player. He'd turned off the radio back in Pittsfield, after learning that what happened back at the home was happening everywhere. He didn't need to listen to a bunch of radio heads panicking, reading bible passages and tossing out one crackpot theory after another. What little traffic he saw earlier had come from the opposite direction, although in both ways the road was now eerily empty. He guessed things were worse in Jersey.
Nothing new there.
Jon spied the hitchhiker about a thousand yards down the road. He eased his foot off the gas pedal and slowed to about twenty miles per hour.
"Looks like he might be a teenager," he mused out loud. "Fifty points easy."
Since going mobile he'd killed three more zombies, not counting Earl. The Escalade's front fender already bore the battle scars. It was dented on the passenger side and liberally decorated with bits of hair and blood. He was pretty sure he'd be able to get a new car whenever he wanted, but you never knew. This one might have to last a while. Jon was a quick study and he'd killed the third zombie nice and slow, going no more than fifteen miles per hour when he clipped her. That was plenty fast enough to send her flying a good ten feet. She was still twitching on the road so he put the Escalade in reverse and backed over her. Kind of like going over a speed bump made of silly putty.
"We're having a party ..."
The car drew closer to the hitcher, a young man, maybe twenty, walking backward with his thumb in the air, a leather backpack slung over his shoulder.
"Everybody's singing ..." Jon's voice trailed off.
Huh. Not a zombie, maybe.
"Nurssse," Jon whispered, and broke into a hiccough of giggles.
The hitcher waved his arms and took a step in the road, mistaking Jon's slowing down for a free ride.
Jon turned off Southside and slowed to a stop. His left hand dropped to his side, resting lightly on the nine millimeter wedged between the driver's seat and the door.
The hitcher jogged a few yards to the car and stopped opposite the door, his face framed in the window. He was indeed a kid. The few chin whiskers didn't do much to age him. He had sandy brown hair, not long but not combed either. Jon didn't need divine power to know that his breath smelled like day-old Wendy's and flat beer. Still, living-grunge here was a damned sight cleaner than Earl or any of Mother Mary's former residents. When it came to crossing Jon Tanner's path, however, being human didn't get you to a free pass. No, sir.
Jon smiled and rolled down the window.
"Where you heading, Sunshine?"
The young man tried to put on a brave face for about half a second but Jon could tell he was scared a good ways past normal.
"I um, just want to get out of here, mister, if you want to know the truth."
Jon's smile widened. "Oh yeah, why's that? Got a girl in trouble or on your way to getting one in trouble?"
The kid blinked rapidly, a look of disbelief on his face.
"No. No - don't you - Didn't you hear about what's happening?"
Jon kept smiling and nodding without listening. About fifty yards down the road something was shambling toward the car.
Well, would you look at that?
The kid babbled something about a diner down the road. People eating each other ... dead rising from the graves ... yadda, yadda, yadda. Jon nodded pleasantly. The corpse was about thirty yards away now and he could see that it was covered in mud. It wore a three-piece suit and was bare foot.
"They told us to stay inside and wait for the authorities. Then the cable must have gone out or something. Next thing I know Ms. Bachman - she's my neighbor - she's screaming ..."
I am seriously fucked up, Jon thought. He should be shitting a brick right now but he was calm as a stone.
"Must be the Codeine," he said out loud.
The kid gave Jon a worried look. "I'm sorry?"
Jon squinted at the thing, ten yards away and dressed in its Sunday best. It had the weirdest eyes ... He barked a laugh, startling the boy.
Pennies! The fucker still has pennies on its eyes.
The kid finally stopped talking and looked uncertainly at Jon.
"Everything okay, mister?"
Jon laughed louder. "Everything is honky fucking dory, Sunshine." He hit the unlock button. "Get in."
The kid fumbled with the handle. "It's locked," he said.
Mr. Pennies and the kid were separated by no more than an arm's length. Jon was laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. "Take your hand off the handle," he wheezed.
Sunshine let go of the handle and Jon hit the button again, tears streaming down his cheeks as the boy fumbled with the door handle. A few eternities later, the door popped open and he hopped in.
"Thanks a lot ..."
"You might," Jon gasped, "want to put your window up."
Chapter 19
Accidents Happen
Twenty miles later Jon decided to kill Sunshine. The painkillers still made life bearable, but the Codeine and Percocet now took a back seat to the flash burn, bruises and battered leg; he was maybe five minutes away from a whopper of a headache. His eyes felt both raw and half cooked from the explosion and even the muted light of dusk felt like needles. Night had fallen, which was a mercy. But whatever relief it brought was lost in the incessant babble:
"... Only until September. That was the plan. Work until September and then head out to California via the scenic route. We were all set. Camping gear, car, some grass. It was a done deal. She was supposed to meet me at the diner but she never showed …"
"Do you have weed?"
"Hmm ... well, no. She was holding it and ..." Sunshine kept talking.
Avoid the Christmas rush, Jon. Shoot him now.
He squeezed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. His foot pressed down on the gas and the Escalade jumped to sixty-five, not the smartest move, given the occasional abandoned car in the middle of the road. But sometimes he just felt like rolling the dice. Sunshine didn't seem to notice.
"We were supposed to meet at Spindle Top Diner. That's where I was when I found out about ... about whatever. I tried calling Kim but couldn't get any signal. No surprise there, right? I mean, when it rains, it pours. So there I am, sitting at the counter …"
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!
"… long greasy looking black hair, wearing this torn up T-shirt and denim shorts. I mean she looked like a junkie's junkie."
Jon fished between the driver's seat and door until his hand found the
9mm. Just tightening his hand on the grip eased the pressure behind his eyes. Cold comfort, he thought as he smiled and brought the gun to his lap.
Should have left him to Pennies from Heaven. Eyes on the road, he clicked off the safety.
But why should the undead have all the fun?
Sunshine stared out his window, oblivious. He was one twitchy sonofabitch; hands drumming against his knees, head nodding up and down as if there were music playing. Jesus, everything about him put Jon on edge.
"She's just standing by the cash register, like some kind of zombie." Sunshine barked a laugh, setting off small explosions behind Jon's eyes. "No shit, right? And the waitress walks over to her. Guess she was going to tell her to either hit the road or maybe go around back for some scraps or something. Hell, maybe she was just going to seat her. Who knows?"
Sunshine's fingers increased their drumming. His head rocked back and forth like a mean drunk at a revival meeting.
"But she didn't get a chance to say anything," he continued. "That girl, she just kind of fell into the waitress and started biting. She bit right into that poor woman's neck. I could see blood start to bubble around … around that thing's mouth. Started pouring down like a faucet. That thing kept chewing and the woman kept screaming. I swear the next -"
"Sorry, Sunshine. Today just isn't your -"
The Escalade jumped the curb, grabbed some air for two eternal seconds and slammed back into the ground. Jon's head whipped back and forth like a jack-in-the-box and the last of the dull pleasures of Percocet and Codeine fled faster than ten Mexicans in a mini-van. The pain came roaring back with a vengeance, turning his whole world red.
"MOTHER FU -" And with those magic words, everything went dark.
He woke all too soon. His leg felt like someone was tapping it with a hammer. If it wasn't broken back at Mother Mary's, it sure as fuck is now. The accident seemed to have shut Sunshine up for the moment, but it hardly seemed a fair trade. The gun no was longer in his lap, and he wouldn't risk bending his head down for a look.
He heard movement and risked a glance over at Sunshine, who was fumbling with the lock.
"What are you doing?" His voice sounded flat and plain worn out. The boy kept half-heartedly pawing at the lock, his hand flapping uselessly against the door.
"Jesus Christ. What happened?"
"Don't," Jon hissed. The forest fire of pain had settled down to a steady throb and his vision cleared a bit.
"Just going to stretch my legs. You okay?"
"No." Jon leaned back, very slowly, and reached for the seatbelt release.
"You're hurt?" Sunshine asked worriedly. "Where? How bad?"
"No. I mean, yes I'm hurt, goddamnit! But no, don't open the door."
"I just want to stretch my legs -"
Something thudded against the door and Sunshine screamed.
Despite the pain Jon smiled. Screams like a little girl. That could make things interesting.
He turned his head toward the passenger door and paid the price as fresh knives of pain shot up his neck. The zombie banged into the door again. She was one ugly fuck. And not all of it could be blamed on her being dead. She had Barbara Streisand's nose and Sonny Bono's mustache. Her hair, or rather her wig, was dirty - filthy - blonde. She wore a sequin dress with fucking feathers sticking out everywhere.
Christ. She must be at least six foot one.
Sunshine's screams dwindled to a bearable mewling.
"Don't worry about Miss America there. Can you make out what that building is?"
The Escalade had stopped in some kind of parking lot. There were a few cars, pickup trucks mostly. He could make out a single story building about thirty yards away. Honky-tonk, probably, though he couldn't be sure. His vision was still blurry, either from the Percocet or the accident. There was a neon sign over the door that looked like 'Lomoan'.
That can't be right.
Sunshine kept looking at the zombie.
Probably having prom flashbacks, Jon mused.
"Hey! Cupcake. Pay attention." The kid tore his gaze away from the window and looked at Jon.
"Wha -"
"Can you see what that building is out there? What does that sign say?"
Sunshine blinked and Jon saw something approximating normality work its way across his face.
"Oh, yeah." He leaned forward, doing his best to ignore wonder woman's advances. "It says 'Lucky Changs'. Maybe a Chinese restaurant?"
"Maybe. Hell of a place to stick a Chinese restaurant." Whatever Lucky Changs was, it was in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. It had to be at least ten miles since they'd passed anything other than trees, and it was a good bet that they'd go another ten without seeing anything else.
"Fucking Chinks," Jon mumbled. He was hoping for a bar, preferably a piece of shit bar where the customers brought their own entertainment as often as not. He needed something to take the edge off before he passed out from the pain.
"Okay. Okay. Listen. On the floor by my feet is a gun. Pick it up."
Sunshine looked at him in confusion. "A gun? What's a gun doing on the floor?"
"It's lying there, numb nut. Now do you have any more questions or should we wait for Princess Putrid's date to get here? Maybe she'll bring the whole gang for take out."
Sunshine gave an uneasy glance out his window.
"Pick up the fucking gun."
The words seemed to finally kick start Sunshine into gear and he unfastened his seat belt and slid over toward Jon.
"See it?"
He leaned down a bit, eyes searching the floor.
"You can blow me later. Just pick up the goddamned gun," Jon growled.
"I don't ..." Sunshine's hands dragged across the floor of the car, searching. "Got it."
"Good." The kid sat up, holding the gun out in front of him like some trophy.
"Good, good, good. Now, when I open the window, pop her one in the head. But try not to ruin her mascara."
"What - listen -"
Jon hit the button and the window slid down.
"Hey!" Sunshine squealed, leaning away as far from the window as possible. The zombie followed suit, leaning in as far as it could.
"What the fuck?"
Jon kept staring straight ahead, smiling. He was afraid to move his head and awaken the dragon. There was no other gun within reach and he didn't think he could make good use of one if there were. The accident had really incapacitated him.
If he fucks this up, I'm dead. The thought didn't bother him much.
His head turned away, eyes closed, Sunshine pointed the gun in the general direction of the window and emptied the clip.
Jon's world exploded in thunder.
Each shot felt like a small ball peen hammer tapping on his skull. The pain was so intense that for a moment he was sure the dumb fuck had fired at him.
"Jesus!"
Between thunderclaps, Jon could make out Sunshine shouting nonsense.
The car filled with blue smoke and cordite, a not entirely unpleasant or unfamiliar smell. The thunder receded and now all he heard were dry clicks and whimpering.
Click. Click. Click.
"Enough, Sunshine. You'll strip the trigger."
Click.
"Goddamnit! Enough!"
"I think I killed it."
"You think? What do you mean, you think?"
Sunshine's hands shook more than his voice. "I wasn't - that is, I wasn't looking when ... But it's gone."
Jon winced as a fresh bout of fire engulfed his shoulder.
"Look out the goddamned window and tell me what you see."
There were a few seconds of blessed silence.
"Oh Jesus, she's dead all right."
Jon heard Sunshine retch, followed by the warm splat of vomit hitting the pavement, and something else.
"Oh God, that's disgusting. I think ..." More retching.
Jon rolled his eyes. "For fuck's sake. Is that the first time you killed anything? Don't even answer that. I don't car
e. You're about to kill a lot more. In the back on the passenger side is a box of clips for the pistol. Go get them."
"Oh God, what a mess. There are puddles where her eyes ..."
"Sunshine," Jon said in a quiet, calm voice, "you don't want me asking you again."
Sunshine didn't like the sound of that. Muttering under his breath he retrieved the ammo, reminding Jon of a Monty Python cartoon.
"You know how to load that?"
"Yes."
"Then do it, goddamnit." Jon heard the satisfying click of a clip sliding into place. "Take two more with you." Another blessed pause.
"With me?"
Jon turned his face toward Sunshine, fresh sweat breaking out across his forehead.
"Listen. We need a new car and I need something to take the edge off. You're going to go inside there and see what you can forage. Pills, liquor, grass - anything. Then we'll work on finding new wheels. You got that?"
Sunshine stared at him in horror.
"You want me to go in there? By myself?"
Jon laughed. "Don't worry. I don't think they'll card you."
"But ..."
"Look. You got two choices. Do what I say or get the fuck out of here. We both know you don't have the sand to make it on your own. So that means you got one choice."
"Okay, okay. I just need a minute."
"We're having a special today. Take two."
Sunshine rolled down the window and cautiously stuck out his head, making Jon think of every Friday the 13th movie ever made. Only the trip hammer going off at the base of his neck prevented him from laughing.
"Is she still waiting for her dance?"
His neck hurt too much for him to waste energy turning it, but he could hear Sunshine retching again.
"Oh God. I just puked all over her face."
"I'm sure you aren't her first. Now get out and don't come back without a pocket full of pills, booze, weed or somefuck."
A fresh bout of pain caused Jon to hiss.
"And don't fire that thing more than you have to. This isn't a video game. You don't get more ammo by walking over the corpse. Make every bullet count. Now git."
Restoring his faith in the Almighty, Sunshine shut up and got.