by JJ Zep
From the road behind came the sound of a vehicle, moving at speed. Joe pushed himself out of his chair and walked to the edge of the porch. His hand dropped instinctively to the sidearm he had holstered in his waistband. Chris’ black Jeep came skittering around the corner, straightening, then racing along the drive, trailing a plume of dust. The car skidded to a halt in the yard and Chris vaulted from behind the wheel.
“What’s up, compadre?” Joe said as Chris strode towards him, the wolf dog, Sugar, by his side. Sugar trotted straight over to Hooley to be petted, drawing a smile from Chris. That dog seemed to know instinctively who was in need of T.L.C.
“Joe, Hooley,” Chris said in greeting. “Charlie’s here.”
“Charlie’s here?” Joe said. “Man, that’s excellent news. About time the Rangers cut that boy some R n R.”
“It ain’t R n R, Joe. We’ve got trouble coming.”
twenty two
The Collins residence sat at the intersection of Arden Road and Lakeside Drive, overlooking the marina. By the time Chris arrived with Joe and Hooley, Kelly had pulled everyone together in the living room. Only Sam was absent, pulling a shift over at Community Hospital.
Charlie got the ball rolling by telling everything he knew, starting with the circumstances of his posting to El Centro, ending with the escape from the Eaters and the drive north in Harrow’s Caddie. He told of the provisioning trip to Mexicali, the run-in with the Quicks and their ability to jam his I-Pod transmissions. He related the bizarre story of the disappearing Z’s and their re-emergence en mass to overrun the Morales compound. Chris asked him to expand on the confrontation with the talking Z and here Skye picked up the narrative filling them in about how Messenger had arrived at her home and massacred her family. Kelly held her when she broke down while describing the death of her son. Wackjob, now recovered and with his head bandaged, then told his part of the story, describing the conditions at Pendleton and the imminent civil war. It was Ferret who asked the question they all wanted answered. Where was Jojo? Was he okay?
“He’s at Pendleton,” Charlie said. “Last I spoke to him, he wasn’t too happy about what Harrow was doing, but you know how he is. Harrow’s his C.O. Jojo wouldn’t abandon his post.”
Joe had remained silent through most of the telling. Now he spoke. “But Harrow’s not at Pendleton any more. He’s probably right now being charbroiled down in Palm Desert. The question I’m asking myself is this, what would spook Bob Harrow enough to make him run out on his corner office and position of authority at Pendleton? God knows he nagged me enough times to step down, so he could take up the reins.”
He turned to Wackjob. “Any chance that Colonel Duma might have prevailed in the skirmish that was brewing down there?”
“No chance,” Wackjob said immediately. “Duma was outmanned and outgunned. Harrow could have sat back, dropped a couple of incendiary 88’s into the middle of the shantytown and watched it burn. And even if it came to a street fight, Harrow had trained soldiers under his command. Aside from a few deserters, Duma’s men were civilians. No way he could have won.”
“Exactly what I thought,” Joe said. “Which leaves the other possibility.” This time he turned to Charlie. “The Z’s that overran the compound in El Centro, do you think they were a large enough force to take Pendleton?”
Charlie shook his head. “Not nearly large enough. Even if they got past the electronic defenses – which is possible, with Quicks involved – they’d run into razor wire and minefields. If they got past that they’d be walking into fifties, mortars, M-72’s. And it would be a coordinated defense, not the disaster we had in El Centro.”
“Mmm,” Joe said, rubbing at his chin “Let’s assume this guy, this Messenger, was able to call on more Z’s. Seems to me he has some kind of control over them, so it’s not too much of a stretch. What then?”
“Let’s assume also,” Chris cut in, “that Harrow was distracted by his run-in with the shack dwellers, maybe even weakened by the battle.”
“Exactly,” Joe said. “Then could the Z’s have taken Pendleton?”
“If Harrow was weakened and distracted and if Messenger could have doubled, maybe trebled his numbers, then yeah, I guess it is.” Charlie said. “I still don’t see it as the most likely outcome though.”
“But it’s the only outcome that makes sense,” Joe said. “And it explains a lot of other stuff, those weird radio signals, comms down, Harrow’s sudden flight north.”
“And if Pendleton has fallen, then that puts Jojo right in the middle of the shit storm,” Chris said. He looked across at Kelly who was now comforting both Skye and Ferret. Kelly looked away, but not before Chris saw tears welling in her eyes.
“We’re getting him out,” Joe said. “Me and Charlie and Wackjob here. You boys up for a ride?”
“Hell yeah!” Wackjob said, while Charlie nodded.
“Count me in too,” Hooley said immediately.
“Not sure that’s such a good idea, pardner.”
“You sayin’ I don’t got the sand for this kinda thing no more, Joe?”
“No, I’m saying that in your condition –”
“My condition? What condition is that exactly?”
“I’m just saying that in your state of mind –”
“I’ll thank you not to make aspersions about the condition of my mental health, Thursday. I’m goin’ and that’s the end of it.”
“No one’s going.” Chris cut in and every head in the room turned towards him. “No one’s going because we have absolutely zero chance of finding Jojo in the chaos that’s likely going on at Pendleton. No one’s going because if this Z force is powerful enough to have overrun an entire army, the five of us are just going to get ourselves killed.”
“So what, we just leave him out there?” Joe said.
“Jojo is a Ranger,” Chris said. “And he has a good head on his shoulders. If there’s anyone equipped to deal with what’s happening at Pendleton, it’s him.”
“But Dad,” Charlie started before Chris cut him off with a raised hand.
“I know what you’re about to say, son. I want to go after Jojo as much as you do and if I knew where to find him I’d be rolling right now. But we can’t risk lives going off on some wild goose chase leaving your mother and Sam and Ferret unprotected. Jojo will find his way back to us, I’m certain of it.” He just hoped that the confidence in his voice masked his own doubts.
“Now,” he continued before Charlie could carry on the argument. “We have business to take care of. Those Z’s keep pushing north and they’re going to slam right into us. We need to get to the mayor’s office. The town perimeter needs to be bulked up and we need an evacuation plan in place. If push comes to shove we need to be ready to run.”
“I’m not leaving,” Kelly said.
Chris turned towards his wife, saw that familiar, defiant expression on her face and knew that he was in trouble. “Kel, we might not have a choice in the matter. If those Z’s arrive in the kind of numbers Charlie’s talking about, we –”
“I’m done running Chris. However this ends, I’m done running.”
twenty three
Ruby had been with Cyrus Cain’s freak show for three months. During that time, they’d played shows in Galveston, Denver, Salt Lake City and every pissant burg in between large enough to support a human population. Last week they’d been in Carson City. Now they were headed north, towards what Cain breathlessly called the ‘mecca of the post-apocalyptic entertainment world’ – Reno, Nevada.
There’d been ample opportunity to escape over the preceding months. Cain seldom kept her locked up any more, secure in his belief that Ruby wouldn’t leave without Pearl. He was right in that assumption. Ruby had grown fond of the little girl. When she eventually made her escape, Pearl was going with her.
It was warm in the cab of the truck, even with the window down. Ruby watched the world roll by, the monotony of the landscape eventually supplanted by the monotony of ruined bu
ildings and broken down cars as they rolled closer to their destination. Then the Reno skyline crept into view, dilapidated high-rises camouflaged by the backdrop of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It occurred to Ruby that she was now closer to her family than she’d been in three years. That thought brought a longing that she found difficult to define and with it a resolution. Reno, Nevada was going to be her final performance with Cyrus Cain’s Extravaganza of the Apocalypse. Whatever it took, she was getting out.
Beside her, Pearl flipped through a dog-eared Superman comic book for the umpteenth time. Ruby ruffled the little girl’s mop of coarse blond hair and Pearl looked up at her and smiled, then got straight back to her story.
Ruby caught a glint of dull sunlight off the jeweled bracelet that Pearl wore. The bracelet that kept them both tethered to Cain.
The driver geared down as the first checkpoint loomed up ahead. Yes, Ruby decided, Reno was going to be her farewell performance. Don’t wait around for an encore folks. There won’t be one.
twenty four
“Turn right here,” Galvin said. Kingston (or K-Mart as he preferred to be called) swung the wheel, taking them through the gates and into the parking lot of the school. He’d barely brought the Humvee to a stop when Jojo threw the door open and vaulted from the cab.
Jojo scanned the square, a section of asphalt surrounded on three sides by buildings, on the fourth by open fields. A faint breeze rustled through the grass. Other than that there was no movement. It was hot and still, the sky cloudless.
“This way, Major,” Galvin said from beside him. Jojo turned and indicated for Mons and K-Mart to follow. Then he set off after Galvin. Galvin walked with a limp, he noticed.
“This here’s the ops room,” Galvin said as they climbed three steps and entered into a prefab building. A cramped room to the right accommodated a small desk with a radio set upon it. A chart of southern California decorated the wall. There were papers on the desk, some of which had spilled onto the threadbare green carpet that covered the floor. Other than that the room was empty.
Next Galvin took them into the school building, showed them the mess and the sleeping quarters, the classroom that Charlie had used as his digs. An unmade cot was the only indication that Charlie had been there. Jojo walked to the side table and picked up a photo frame. It contained a Polaroid of the two of them, that day at the beach right after they’d received their commissions. Ferret stood between them, leaning more towards Charlie, Jojo thought. God he missed her, missed all of them, his parents, Sam, even Ruby who he hadn’t seen in years.
“Major?”
“Yeah, I’m coming,” Jojo said. He stripped the photograph from its frame and slid it into his breast pocket. Then he followed Galvin from the building.
The Morales compound was three blocks east and two north of the school. Even as they approached, Jojo could see that something big had gone down here. There were dead Z’s, lots of them, littering the streets. Judging from the injuries they’d received, Jojo guessed that they’d been strafed with cannon fire and mortar. Then the complex came into view and the full extent of the battle became apparent. The main building was a burnt out husk, the one behind it reduced to rubble by what looked like a major explosion. Blackened bodies and parts of bodies lie everywhere. And there were Z’s among the carnage, gorged creatures with soot and blood smeared faces sitting amongst the rubble, feeding on the fetid flesh of the dead.
The Humvee rolled to the side of the complex where the chain link and razor wire fence had been dragged down. Jojo noticed something interesting here, a whole swathe of Z’s, easily a hundred of the creatures, clustered together, all of their heads pulverized.
Inside the compound there were more horrors. The building to the rear appeared to be a warehouse. It also appeared to have been deliberately detonated, most likely by those hiding inside, probably to avoid being taken by the Z’s. Severed limbs and eviscerated corpses lay among broken glass and warped sheets of corrugated iron. A weird blend of odors assaulted Jojo’s nostrils, alcohol and spices supplementing burnt flesh, diesel, blood and feces. Scattered among the corpses lay dented tins, shredded packs of cigarettes, burst bags of rice and flour, ammo cases and fuel canisters, the contents of the warehouse.
Most of the bodies were burnt beyond recognition. If Charlie was among them, Jojo would never know. Yet his instinct (put it down to some psychic connection that twins may or may not possess) told him that Charlie hadn’t died in this place.
The carrion-feeding zombies had now noticed their presence and came shuffling from the ruins, tempted by the lure of fresh meat. Mons, K-Mart and Galvin dispatched them quickly and efficiently.
When it was done, Jojo called them all together. “He’s not here,” he said. “Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”
“He was, though,” Mons said. “Him and Wacko.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“See those headless Z’s all neatly lined up around the fence back there? That’s a Wackjob special. Claymores set at head height. Kapow!”
“That boy does like fireworks,” K-Mart added.
That made sense to Jojo. The overwhelming certainty that Charlie wasn’t here washed over him again. “Okay,” he said. “So you’re Charlie and Wackjob, where do you go from here?”
“The Loot said he’d follow us to Pendleton,” Galvin said.
“That would never happen,” Mons cut in immediately. “Wackjob was AWOL. He’d have been shot at Pendleton as a deserter.”
“Any other hideout you boys frequented on your regular patrol beat?” Jojo asked.
“Nah,” Mons said. “We were more a ‘take your discomforts where you find them’ kind of crew.”
“That leaves just one option then,” Jojo said. “They must have gone north, to my folks place at Big Bear.”
twenty five
“Where’s Sharon?” Ruby said.
“Mr. Cain decided to dispense with her services,” Vanessa said. “I’ve got someone else for you, just as reliable.”
Ruby looked past Vanessa, Cain’s talent coordinator, into the passage. The girl standing in the shadows looked about eighteen with dirty black hair and thick eyeliner. She was wearing a short skirt and a denim jacket, squirming around as though she desperately needed the bathroom.
“I don’t like the look of her,” Ruby said. “Bring me someone else.”
“There is nobody else,” Vanessa said. “It’s this or nothing.”
Over the months since they’d left Galveston, Vanessa had gone from being an eager-to-please facilitator to being a cranky, ball-breaking bitch. Ruby suspected that she’d developed a substance habit back in Texas. If Cain ever found out, Vanessa was going to find herself terminated, quite literally.
“Wait here,” Ruby said and closed the door in Vanessa’s face.
Pearl was sitting on one of the long benches that lined the walls of the locker room. She had her two favorite dolls, a hairless Barbie and a one-eyed Teddy Ruxpin, sitting up against the wall and was setting out plastic cups and saucers for them.
“Hey there, Sweetie,” Ruby said. “Watcha doing?”
“I’m pouring tea, silly. Can’t you see?”
“Doh!” Ruby said, slapping her own forehead. “Doofus!”
That got Pearl giggling and triggered a surge of emotion that Ruby couldn’t quite comprehend. She felt like laughing and crying at the same time. What had this sweet, innocent kid done to end up in this situation?
“Listen Sugar.” Ruby’s voice sounded somewhat unsteady in her own ears. She masked it by pulling a face and employing her best Daffy Duck impersonation. “Weeze got us a problem.”
“Weeze has!” Pearl giggled.
“We do,” Ruby said, serious now. “Sharon got the flu or something and she can’t look after you tonight.” She squinted her eyes and blew a raspberry to counteract the disappointment that sprung instantly onto Pearl’s face.
“But I like Sharon,” Pearl said, a frown creasing her brow.
“I know you do, Sweetie, but it’s the flu, kiddo. You wouldn’t want to catch any of those bad ol’ flu boogers would you?”
Pearl shook her head earnestly.
“So I tell you what we’re going to do. Vanessa’s got another girl waiting outside. Now she’s not Sharon, but she’s just as nice.”
“No one’s as nice as Sharon,” Pearl said. “Except for you, Ruby. You’re the nicest.”
“Why, thank you ma’am,” Ruby said and performed a little curtsey, sparking a fresh round of giggles.
“Now,” she said. “What do you say? You want to give this new girl a shot, she if she’s up to scratch?”
“What’s her name?” Pearl asked.
“Well why don’t you ask her yourself, little miss?” Ruby said. “We good?”
Pearl nodded her head. She looked far from certain.
“Tell you what,” Ruby said. “You don’t like this new girl you can just blank her out and bury your head in that Spiderman comic you like so much.”
“Superman,” Pearl corrected.
There was a thump on the door. “Ruby! Get a shake on in there. They’re already announcing you!”
Ruby heard the dull roar of the crowd. “I’ll be back,” she said, using the Arnold Schwarzenegger voice from the Terminator videos she used to watch as a kid. She crossed to the door and opened it.
Vanessa was immediately in her face. “Jesus, Ruby, you know how Mr. Cain is about things running on time. And it’s me he holds responsible if they don’t. Me, not you!”
Ruby looked past her, to the girl leaning against the opposite wall. “You,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“Carmen,” the girl said. She sniffed hard, ran a sleeve across her nose.
“How long you been with the show?”
“Three weeks,” Carmen said. “Since –”