by William Bebb
CHAPTER 17
Hell's Water Balloon
“Did you guys hear that?” Billy asked, looking up from the floor where he sat cross legged next to the dog and the house he was building out of playing cards.
Colonel William Lester and Mrs. Phyliss Remlap had been sipping coffee at the dinette table talking softly. They both fell silent and listened intently. Even Boris lifted an ear and cocked his head. His tail started twitching slowly at first but then faster as they all listened.
“I don't hear-” Remlap began.
“Shush,” the old man said as he went to the window and listened. Far off in the distance he heard an air horn blowing over and over.
Billy jumped up off the floor, nearly knocking down the playing card house he'd been building, and ran to the kitchen window. It was a challenge to take a deck of playing cards and create a building by leaning them against each other. But his grandpa wanted him to do something quiet so Billy built and rebuilt. The structure he had nearly completed would never have been approved by any architectural firm, yet it reached up almost four levels high and was the best he'd managed to construct all afternoon.
“It's a horn and I think it's getting louder,” Billy said, as he joined them at the kitchen window.
Boris jumped up with his front paws on the window sill as they all stared and listened.
“Boy, don't let that dog leave paw prints on the window sill. Just look at how dirty his paws are,” Mrs. Remlap said, and then looked out the window.
The old man finished off his tepid cup of coffee, belched, then picked up his binoculars and peered through them as he adjusted the focus knob.
They all heard the air horn growing undeniably louder.
As he stared across the trailer park, the old man saw several wandering figures pause and look toward the east. A large plume of dust was visible coming from the trash dump, and it grew bigger by the second.
“It's got to be Josey,” he said, watching the trail of dust coming closer. He caught a brief glimpse of shiny metal flashing through the trees and underbrush.
Then from behind a trailer that had partially collapsed years ago, the truck burst out of the dump road and turned right. It ran over a slowly walking figure, but it was too far away to make out any other details.
“What do you see?” Billy asked impatiently, looking where his grandpa stared.
“It's Josey and I see someone else in the truck. I think it may be Maria. What the Hell is he doing?” He asked, watching the truck swerve and miss a few men who had been running toward it.
The truck rolled into a sizable open space that was near where the Remlap house had been. But the building had been reduced to just a smoldering pile of ashes by then. The truck turned and started going in a sharp circle as the horn continued to sound.
Only a few of the undead seemed not to notice the noise and commotion. The rest ran toward the truck as it continued to move in a sharp circle.
“Is he going in circles? What’s wrong with him, is he crazy?” Remlap asked, staring out the window.
“I have no idea why, but you're right he's just circling over and over,” the colonel said, shaking his head. “Maybe the steering is stuck or he's got some other problem.”
“It looks like he's trying to get them to chase his truck. Maybe he'll run them all over,” Billy suggested, as he and Boris looked out the window. “Probably sort of like how dogs will chase cars. I bet he's just going to just smash them all flat.”
“Why don't you just run them all over?” Maria asked, as the group of undead and crazy men began assembling and chased after the truck. It ran over a few of them but Josey appeared to be trying to miss them for the most part. She started to feel dizzy as the truck continued to circle.
“There two reasons,” he said, steering around an old trailer. “First off, running over people dead, alive, or undead for that matter is rough on an old truck like this and I don't want to break down out here. Do you?”
“No, what’s the other reason?” She asked, holding her stomach and feeling like she might be sick. “And just how long do you plan on doing this?”
“Just a few more seconds. I want to get as many of them away from the colonel's trailer as possible. Besides, we can't afford to do it much longer anyway. Look at the gas gauge.”
The needle was below E and the little amber light next to it was quickly blinking off and on.
“But what makes you think there's enough gas to do all of this?” she asked, doubtfully.
“I’m just hoping, actually. Matter of fact, since I saw you praying a few minutes ago a little more couldn't hurt,” he said, shifting into the next gear and driving straight toward the colonel's trailer.
He shook his head in an attempt to regain his sense of balance. The big truck was hard to steer as he felt the world spinning like he had just gotten off a wild carnival ride.
“The idiot’s leading back them this way. What's wrong with him?” Remlap asked with her voice cracking. “Has he gone crazy?”
“That's the second time you've asked that. Hopefully he going to just ram his way up and out through the exit and go get help, because there's no way we'd all fit inside his truck cab,” the colonel observed nervously.
Boris barked and wagged his tail in excitement as the truck started making a beeping noise while backing up toward the trailer. The septic tank contents could clearly be heard sloshing around as it came to a stop near the front end of the trailer.
“Maybe he's going to squirt them with the poop that's inside the truck,” Billy suggested excitedly, with a big mischievous smile.
“I'll be right back,” Mrs. Remlap said. She grabbed the heavy rolling pin and ran out the front door before anyone could say anything. She walked quickly across the small fenced yard and went through the gate.
The colonel thought about telling Billy to go get inside the truck. However, without knowing what Josey had in mind, he wasn't sure that it would be a good idea. Instead, he hugged his grandson around the shoulders and cleared his throat. “Billy. You know I love you, right?”
Billy tore his eyes away from the truck and stared up at his grandpa. “Of course, I know that. You're the greatest grandpa in the world.”
“I was really worried about you earlier when you went out there, but I was also more than a little proud of you,” Colonel Lester said, looking intently into his grandson’s eyes.
“But I didn't get help and almost got Boris and Josey killed. I'm sorry I screwed up, grandpa. I won't do anything that stupid ever again, don't worry about that.”
“You don't hear too well do you, Billy. You got potatoes growing in your ears? I said I was proud of you. You did a selfless and heroic thing when you went for help. It doesn't matter if you didn't succeed, you tried. A lot of people live their entire lives without ever trying. The very act of trying is always more important than whether or not you're successful.”
The boy nodded and appeared to be seriously considering his grandfather's wisdom.
One second the old man was smiling, the next his face changed to one of shock and he sat down quickly on a chair. He rubbed his chest and breathed harder.
“Are you okay?” Billy asked in a small scared voice.
The colonel felt his heart beating erratically as he looked up at his grandson. He nodded and said, “It's just all this excitement. I'll be fine as soon as I can get some rest.”
The old man knew what a heart attack felt like because he'd had one five years earlier. When it happened before he'd been in town buying groceries and medical assistance was only a few minutes away. Not sure if they'd help, he took one of Mrs. Remlap's nitro pills and held it under his tongue.
He spoke softly to his grandson, “Billy, if anything bad happens to me.” He grimaced, as a sharp pain radiated throughout his chest and down his arms. He gripped the table and continued though his voice sounded strained. “I want you to do what you did earlier today. I want you to go with Josey or just run away. And I want you to know I'll always l
ove you, no matter what happens.”
Billy hugged his grandpa tightly as tears ran down his face. He felt the old man shuddering and whispered in a choked voice, “I love you too, grandpa. Don't worry. Everything will be okay.”
Most of infected and undead had gone to the other side of the park, yet there were still a few very slow moving Dead Heads approaching the septic tank truck.
As Mrs. Remlap held the rolling pin, she hurried around to the front of the idling truck. Watching Josey drag several long chains toward the trailer, the old woman jumped when she heard a voice right next to her.
“So you made it?” Maria asked, from the open passenger side door.
“Oh, Thank God you're alive,” The old lady said, leaning in to hug Maria. “I was so afraid that you were dead or burned up in my house. I'm so sorry I left you behind. Are you okay?” She asked, with a deeply concerned look in her eyes.
“I’m mostly okay, just a bad headache and a broken ankle. I'm sorry about your house. Are the colonel and Billy alright?”
“Yes, they're fine. What is that young man doing under the trailer?”
Maria rolled her eyes, and said, “He has a plan.”
There was a rattle of chains as he crawled out from under and began hooking them to the rear of the truck.
Screams echoed across the trailer park and both women looked at the horde of zombies running toward them.
Josey limped to the driver side and eased into his seat. He looked at the old lady and said, “Tell them to hang on. We're all getting out here, right now.”
“I hope you know what you're doing, young man,” she said, turning to Maria. “He does know what he's doing, right?”
Maria shrugged and said, “God Bless you. And I forgive you for having left me at the garage.” They hugged again briefly before Mrs. Remlap hurried back inside the trailer.
“I had to rig up something, but it will work. I saw the tires were still in place under the trailer so let's get rolling,” he said, putting the truck in first gear and letting out the clutch.
“Hang on. He's going to pull the trailer up the road,” Remlap said, as she climbed into the trailer panting and nearly out of breath. She grabbed onto the door frame as the trailer jerked and a deep groaning sound came from underneath. Billy's painstakingly constructed four story building of playing cards collapsed.
“No. The damn fool is crazy. We have to stop him,” the old man said weakly. He clutched the table and managed to stand up. “Billy, go to your bedroom now,” he said, trembling on his shaking legs.
Billy ran to the back of the trailer, shouting, “Yes sir! Come on Boris, let’s go to my room!”
There was a loud cracking sound as the trailer jerked forward then started tilting toward the right side. A lifetime of porcelain and ceramic figurines the colonel's late wife had collected crashed to the floor. His recliner and everything else not nailed down started sliding to the right side of the room.
“He's going to kill us all,” the colonel grunted.
The truck's engine roared louder, followed by another intense shudder as the trailer tilted even more.
“Did you anchor this trailer down?!” Remlap yelled across the room.
“Seemed like a good idea at the time. You know what tornadoes do with trailers,” he managed to say as he let go of the sliding table and grabbed the trailer's window for support. The nitro pill seemed to have helped and now his ancient heart was beating harder than ever.
The stove and refrigerator slid away from the wall and tumbled across the floor as the trailer tipped even further. Then the loudest cracking sound came from under the trailer and it flipped over on its side. When the refrigerator hit the wall it burst open and a sickening stench of rotten food filled the kitchen.
The trailer was on its side with the front door pressed flat against the ground while still being very slowly dragged behind the truck.
Standing in a stinking mess of rotten food, the old man called out, “Phyllis, are you okay?”
The old lady climbed over the kitchen table and stood by the colonel. “What do we do now?” she asked, coughing.
“You big idiot!” Maria yelled, as she looked out the truck's rear window. “It's flipping over! Stop, stop!”
Josey looked back just as the trailer flipped over on its side with a loud crashing of metal and breaking glass. “Shit!” He looked at the closest zombies, hoped he had a few more seconds, and opened the door. Limping back to where he rigged the chains to the back of the truck, he stared in disbelief at the ruined silver trailer. Working fast, he unlatched the chains and shook his head muttering, “Damn it. That should have worked.”
When he finished releasing the last chain he felt something pressing against him. Turning with the sword raised, he yelped and saw Boris looking tired but with his tail wagging. Just behind the dog, Billy was standing and staring at the trailer. The boy appeared more than a little dazed and confused.
“Get in the truck! Come on, move it.” He didn't wait for the boy to move but instead grabbed his hand and dragged him to the cab and shoved him inside.
Boris jumped up next and stood on top of Billy and Maria's laps as Josey climbed in and got the truck rolling.
“The floor in my room is gone. First there was a loud ripping cracking sound then, WHAM! The floor was gone and the room fell sideways. I was staring outside where the floor used to be. What happened?” Billy asked, peering through the cracked windshield.
“It's okay, calm down!” Josey shouted, as he steered the truck for the tangled mess of vehicles still smoldering at the exit.
“Quit shouting,” Maria said, hugging Billy close as Boris' wagging tail flicked into Josey's face.
Clutching the steering wheel tightly, he looked at the collection of still smoldering cars blocking the road. “This will work. It’s got to,” he said, putting the truck in low gear and began ramming the cars out of the way.
“Billy's outside. He getting in the truck,” Phyllis wheezed, staring through the shattered window.
Coughing, Colonel Lester hobbled over to look out the window and watched as his grandson got in the truck and they drove away. His eyes filled with tears as he raised his shaking hand to his lips and blew a kiss after the truck. “Love you, Billy.”
“What’s that smell?” she asked. “It’s getting stronger. I can hardly catch my breath.”
“Propane tank line must have broke when the trailer flipped,” he said, grabbing a broken chair leg and smashing the remaining glass out of the kitchen window. Outside, he saw dozens of Screamers and Dead Heads starting to pass by the trailer in pursuit of the truck. His heart felt much stronger as he realized what had to be done. He hollered at the crowd while smashing more glass out of the window, “Hey! Hey! Over here, you ugly bastards! Free Dinner, over here!”
“Shut up, they'll” (cough) “hear you,” Remlap frantically whispered.
“That’s the idea! Yoo hoo! Hey ugly! Come get me! I'm aged beef! 100% USDA!” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a silver colored glittering Zippo lighter that had an Army Rangers emblem engraved on its side.
Not all of the zombies were distracted by the colonel. Several ran by, screaming after the departing truck, but the vast majority turned and moved toward the lopsided trailer. Like a stream of ants, the undead encircled them and began trying to find or beat a way inside. Many headed for the broken window and the shouting old man, others ripped off a plastic skylight from the roof while a few managed to climb on top of the wrecked trailer.
The propane fumes were much stronger, but some air blew in through the broken window, as Mrs. Remlap saw the lighter in his hand and realized what he had in mind. She heard a clattering sound from further back in the trailer and saw several shadowy figures climbing over and through the wreckage of furniture.
She pulled a pack of matches out of her robe pocket and coughed as she got ready to light one. Turning to the colonel, she smiled as he yelled through the window as arms reached inside heedless
of the broken glass. “Get your early bird blue plate special! Today's entree is gonna be extra crispy Cajun style! Come and get it, you nasty maggot infested crap sacks!”
“See you on the other side, Bill,” she said, poised to strike a match.
“If my wife, Barbara, lets me out of her sight up there you better believe it.”
Both match and lighter produced a flame at the same moment.