Panting hard, Arthur remembered he’d been cold before this but now, wanted to take off a few layers of clothes. Patting his vest and not finding a mag, he moved to his thigh and found it empty as well. Glancing over at Jason, Arthur saw him reloading the snub nose .357 Jason carried in the small of his back. Like Arthur, Jason had no loaded magazines.
Reaching back Arthur gave a shiver, feeling only two bandoliers in his pack. He pulled out his last two hundred rounds and went to work reloading as Jason holstered the snub nose and joined him. “You good?” Jason asked.
“Don’t know, and until we get in the Suburban, I’m not looking,” Arthur answered, reloading the sixty round magazines first. Using what was left, he loaded what thirty round magazines he could, then pulled out a box of .45 and reloaded his pistol mags.
When the first pistol mag was loaded, he found his pistol under a dead dog and shoved the loaded mag in before holstering it. “Donald, Daisy!,” he called out and they limped over. He could see several bites, but none looked to be bleeding so bad as to need attention now. When Adam and Eve limped over to Jason, Arthur could tell they were hurt worse but still moving.
“Your arm’s bleeding,” Jason said moving over, and Arthur looked down at his right arm as Jason put a pressure dressing on his triceps area. “It looks like a cut and not a bite.”
“I think I cut it on a rock when they dragged me down,” Arthur answered and ran his eyes over Jason. Parts of Jason’s pants had been ripped open and he could see punctures from bites, but none were bleeding heavily. Several spots on Jason’s vest looked like a dog had latched on, tearing it, but none had reached skin. Moving his eyes up to Jason’s head, “One get your hat, too?” Arthur asked as Jason finished the dressing.
“A fucking Irish Wolfhound,” Jason scoffed. “Big fucker knocked me down and then dragged me five yards by my head till I shoved my pistol down his throat and let him know I didn’t like that.”
Bending down and getting his crumpled hat off the ground, Arthur shoved it on his head. He was about to get Jason’s hat, but saw it was torn nearly in half. “Let’s move as fast as the dogs can,” Arthur offered, and Jason nodded, having no problem with that.
Stepping over and walking on the bodies of dogs to their front, they moved out in a jog and found out the dogs could still move much faster than they could. Nearing the rise where the Suburban was parked, they could soon hear the sonic crack of suppressed shots ahead and Arthur grabbed for his PTT, but didn’t find it. Looking down he saw it was gone, then he realized the earpiece and throat microphone were also gone. Reaching over his back, he pulled the radio out of the pouch and unplugged the connection to the PTT.
Pressing the button, “We’re below the rise and coming up!” Arthur called out over the barks, howls, and lots of yelps and whining ahead.
“Well, come on! We’re ready to go!” Kirk shouted back. “Are Daisy and Eve with you?!”
“Yes, they found us. Thank you for letting them come,” Arthur answered.
“WE didn’t. They climbed out the hatch when Shawn was shooting the mini gun,” Kirk answered. “Hold on, Shawn said he’s going to hose the area around us. The dogs don’t like that and move back. When he stops, get up here.”
Clipping the radio to his vest, “I fucking love mini guns,” Arthur said as a long ‘Brrrrrrrrr’ sounded ahead and they saw tracers ricocheting off into the sky and over their heads. The barks turned to bays of panic as the dogs broke and took off. When the mini gun stopped, Arthur and Jason took off in a sprint.
Reaching the top of the rise they saw the Suburban sitting at the end of the road they’d stopped on, already turned around and ready to go. As they neared, the front doors opened and they let the dogs in first then dropped into the seats, slamming the doors.
“Pops, Joseph and Mom have been calling you on the radio for, like, ten minutes before you called us,” Shawn said, lowering the mini gun back inside and closing the hatch.
“Not my fault I didn’t hear them. Dogs ripped my PTT, earbud, and throat mic off,” Arthur answered as he cranked up the Suburban and hit the gas. Leaving the lights off, he drove down the dirt road rather fast. A few dogs jumped out of the woods to give chase, but Arthur didn’t slow or try to hit them. Not out of chivalry, Arthur just didn’t want to risk wrecking or getting stuck.
Grabbing the hand mic for the radio mounted on the dash, “This is Arthur. Jason and I are in the Suburban and coming home,” he called out.
“Are you okay?!” Wendy screeched over the radio.
“We got some bumps, bruises, cuts, bites, and scrapes, but could still run. Can you call Chad and see if we can bring the dogs over so Yvonne can look at them?” Arthur asked.
“Okay,” Wendy answered much calmer and Arthur turned to look at the radio.
Lifting the mic to his mouth, “Wendy, why do I hear engine noise on your end?” Arthur asked.
“Because Samantha and I loaded up in a Stryker, motherfucker!” she shouted. “We’re at the bottom of the road waiting for you!”
The first thought in Arthur’s mind was it’d taken Wendy an awful long time to reach them since they were only forty miles away from the ranch. Turning his eyes to the clock on the dash Arthur stared at it, not believing what his eyes read. Taking his left hand off the steering wheel he looked at his wristwatch and saw the same time, 2334.
It had only been twenty-six minutes ago when they’d first taken off running. Arthur had been expecting the sun to be coming up soon. Now, he was very impressed at the speed in which Wendy and Samantha had reached them.
Noticing Arthur glancing at his watch, “Yeah, we didn’t even play with the dogs for half an hour and still got our asses kicked,” Jason chuckled.
“Bullshit,” Arthur spat. “We killed a lot of them and they didn’t kill any of ours. We dictated the battle. At best, they can only claim a tactical retreat.”
Seeing smoke pouring off the barrel of Arthur’s AR laying on the dashboard, “They hurt my dogs. They get points for effort, and I’m going to unleash on their asses for that,” Jason replied.
Lifting the microphone, “Wendy, we need to get in the Stryker to look over the dogs. Shawn can drive the Suburban and follow,” Arthur called out.
“Okay, Joseph called Chad and he’s bringing Yvonne and a group over to the ranch right now.”
“Damn, a vet who makes house calls after an apocalypse,” Jason sang out as Arthur slowed for a curve. It was only a few minutes later when they spotted the Stryker pulled to the side of the road, waiting.
Throwing the shifter in park, “Shawn, you’re driving,” Arthur said getting out. Moving to the back Arthur opened the back hatch to let the dogs out. None of them jumped out, they all eased to the edge and used the bumper to get down gently. Even with the overhead lights turned out in the Suburban, Arthur could see the blood caked to the bodies of all four dogs.
Wendy came running up and skidded to a stop beside Arthur. “What the fuck?” she gasped, looking Arthur over. “You said you were okay!”
“I am,” Arthur answered turning to her.
“You’re covered in blood and your clothes are torn to shit!” Wendy shouted and moved up, running her eyes over his body very slowly. Even with the bright moon and stars, she wasn’t satisfied. Grabbing Arthur’s arm, she pulled him to the Stryker.
Jo Ann and Sally were at the back ramp waiting, and both let out gasps when Arthur moved into the light coming out of the Stryker. “Pops!” they cried out and moved toward him.
“No!” Wendy barked stopping them. “Jo Ann, get on the gun and stay there. Sally, get on the radio and tell Doc to get his hospital staff up.”
“Overreacting, don’t ya think?” Arthur sighed as Wendy yanked him in the back
Ignoring the remark Wendy pushed him in a seat, laid her rifle down, and grabbed a first aid kit. As she opened it up, she turned to see Samantha had Jason’s right arm twisted behind his back, forcing Jason to go where she wanted.
“You need
to chill, chick,” Jason winced as Samantha pushed him in the back of the Stryker.
“Move when I fucking tell you!” Samantha snapped, letting go of Jason’s right arm and then shoving him in a seat. Staring at Jason, Wendy still hadn’t moved. If Arthur looked bad, Jason looked like he should die of blood loss any second. What was left of his shredded pants were blood-soaked. Any exposed skin was painted in dried and clotted blood. The right arm sleeve was gone and Wendy could see several bites.
“You need help?” Wendy finally asked and opened the first aid kit.
“Let me do an assessment,” Samantha said, dropping her rifle to the floor.
“Close the ramp and let’s get the fuck out of here!” Wendy shouted and knelt in front of Arthur.
Wendy used shears to cut the shredded vest off Arthur before he could even move to take it off. “Who’s driving?” Arthur asked because from the look in Wendy’s eyes if he made a comment about her overreacting, she would probably use the trauma shears on him.
“LL,” Wendy barked as she cut his shirt, but stopped seeing the pressure dressing on his right arm. “What’s that?”
“Cut from a rock when the dogs knocked me down,” Arthur answered as the ramp started to close. He glanced out the back and saw Shawn standing by the open door of the Suburban.
With his mouth hanging open Shawn just looked at the interior of the Suburban. The front seats, doors and dash were coated in blood from Arthur and Jason. “Shit,” he gasped and climbed into the bloody seat, shutting the door.
In the Stryker, Arthur tried to move and examine the dogs, but Wendy shoved him back in the seat. “I wanted to look over the dogs!” he shouted.
“Motherfucker!” Wendy shouted. “I’ll do it, but let me take care of you first! You’re my priority, bitch. So shut the fuck up!”
Tired and sore, Arthur just flopped back and let Wendy work. Shifting his gaze, Arthur did a double-take. Samantha had cut all of Jason’s clothes off and he was sitting butt naked in his seat. “Damn, your wife moves fast,” Arthur declared.
With Jason naked, Arthur could now see several large gashes on his hands, legs, arms, and ass. “You didn’t tell me dogs bit you on the ass,” Arthur popped off as he felt the Stryker take off.
“Screw my ass!” Jason cried out. “They were going for my groin! I flipped over on my stomach and covered the jewels. If I was dying, they were going to be the last thing the dogs got.”
“I told you to start wearing a cup, and even gave you three brand new ones,” Arthur reminded him.
As Samantha worked away cleaning the largest gashes, “Oh, you can be damn sure I’ll wear one now and every day for the rest of my life,” Jason vowed.
Feeling his legs move, Arthur looked down to see Wendy had just cut the laces off his boots and was pulling them off. Then he realized the only thing he had on was the right sleeve of his shirt where the pressure dressing was. “You haven’t undressed me this fast since our honeymoon, woman!”
“How bad is that cut?” Wendy snapped as she examined the bites to his legs.
“Fuck if I know. I was ready to move, but Jason wanted a dressing on it. He’s the doctor, so I just stayed still until he was done.”
“Wendy,” Jason called out and she turned to him. “It’s deep with exposed muscle. Don’t remove the dressing. Let Doc do it.”
“You didn’t say it was that bad!” Arthur popped off.
“You were still using your arm!” Jason responded in kind. “With that much muscle torn, you shouldn’t have been able to extend your forearm. I didn’t want to say anything because the puppies still wanted to play.”
They all leaned as LL took a turn fast. “LL, this isn’t a Ferrari!” Arthur shouted and gave a wince when Wendy found a deep cut on the back of his leg.
“You shut the hell up and don’t tell me how to drive!” LL shouted back, and everyone heard the fifty caliber in the remote firing station mounted on the roof open up.
“Jo Ann, what the hell are you shooting?” Arthur asked.
“Mangy shit-eating dogs!” she screamed back.
Looking down at Wendy as she started wrapping a dressing around his leg, “You need to talk to our daughters,” Arthur told her calmly.
Never stopping her work, Wendy glanced up at him. “Says the man who taught them how to use ‘Fuck’ properly as a proper noun, adjective, and a descriptive adverb,” Wendy responded but for the first time, gave him a small smile.
“Hey, Sally was only using ‘fuck’ as a modifier, and that’s a poor use of the English language,” Arthur replied.
Hearing a sharp intake of breath, they turned to see Samantha had Jason on the floor with his ass in the air as she cleaned the large laceration across his entire left cheek. “Oh, this better not leave a bad scar,” Samantha said with a tremble in her voice as she fought to maintain control.
“I can’t see it,” Jason said, sucking in a breath.
Gritting her teeth hard, “You have a pretty ass! How many times have I told you that? If this leaves a nasty scar, I’m going hunting, asshole!”
“Hey, babe? They wanted my cock and balls! I would rather have them and no ass!”
Lifting the large flap up, Samantha irrigated the area as best she could and then grabbed pads and tape, going to work. “Okay, you chose correctly on that,” she finally admitted, and even tried to grin.
“Shit, I was ready to go down fighting, then gather the dogs close and pull the pin on a hand grenade when we ran out of bullets, but Arthur says nooo…” Jason paused with a grimace as Samantha pulled the tape tight across the wound. “Wendy owes him, and I had to stick around to help.”
Just hearing Jason was ready to die, tears started running down Samantha’s face but she kept working. “You fucking leave me alone with all these kids, you’d better pray I never find you in the afterlife,” she warned.
Lifting his head off the floor, “Okay, now I feel like shit because I never thought about that and I’m sorry, Samantha,” Jason admitted. “I just didn’t want to get eaten alive,” he confessed.
Wiping tears off her cheek, “You’re back and I have to agree, even I would think about going out with a bang before getting eaten alive by dogs,” she told him.
With a big smile, “You wanted to come back to me?” Wendy asked in a little girl voice.
“Duh, yeah,” Arthur said then added, “You promised me something and I’m staying around till you deliver.”
Stopping her work and leaning back until she was sitting on her heels, “I’ve carried through with every promise I’ve ever made,” Wendy informed him.
“Nearly all, but one promise I remind you of every year.”
Biting her lip and looking off, Wendy racked her brain trying to remember. Suddenly her eyes got bright, “We did that two years ago on the way home after visiting Joseph,” she stated proudly.
“Babe, that was your request, not mine,” Arthur chuckled. Wendy was about to object, then realized he was right. She shrugged and went back to tending his wounds but did look at him with an arched eyebrow, letting him know she had no idea. “It involves wax,” was all Arthur said.
Jerking back, “That’s going to hurt like a motherfucker!” Wendy cried out.
“You wax your eyebrows and legs all the damn time!”
Working away on Jason, Samantha nodded, knowing damn well what they were talking about. “The first time’s the worst. Holy shit, I had two bottles of wine in me and when that oriental bitch yanked that cloth away… I was instantly sober and wanted to kill her ass.”
“You hear that?!” Wendy cried out going back to work. “I did go to a salon once to have it done,” she reminded him.
“And ran out screaming when you heard another woman yell out from the back,” Arthur told her.
“Wendy,” Samantha called out and Wendy turned to see Samantha working on Jason’s arms. “When you want to do it, fuck getting drunk. There’s no DEA anymore. I’ll sedate you with drugs,” Samantha offered.
Chapter Fifteen
You got some things wrong
When they arrived at the ranch there were stretchers waiting. Needless to say, Arthur and Jason both went ballistic. Instead of getting on the two stretchers they had the dogs climb on them, Donald and Daisy on one, and Adam and Eve on the other. Butt ass naked and barefoot, the two walked to the hospital area in the dorms. The entire way everyone was shouting at them that they were acting stupid, with Wendy and Samantha being the most vocal.
Two hours later, with over a hundred stitches for the various cuts, forty staples in his scalp closing up lacerations, and wrapped in enough gauze to pass for a mummy, Arthur walked out of the care area. Wendy just snarled at him, saying she needed a cigarette. Watching Wendy storm off, the last time Arthur remembered Wendy smoking a cigarette had been when Joseph was eight and had broken his arm.
Joseph had climbed on the roof of the barn with an umbrella to see if he could use it like a parachute. Arthur was just glad Joseph had gotten the beach umbrella they used and not one of the rain umbrellas.
He walked into the dining hall to see it was nearly empty. Only his table had people there, drinking coffee. He found Joseph and Sarah talking to Chad, LL, Yvonne, and her husband Tim. Only Yvonne could call him Timmy. For a man, Tim was short, barely five-foot-six, but it was very clear he liked to push iron. The twenty-inch arms, fifty-inch chest and tiny thirty-inch waist were a dead giveaway. Yvonne’s parents had been professors who had emigrated from Brazil to the US before she was born. Yvonne’s skin looked bronze, like a dark tan, and her hair Wendy had told him was called ‘Brazilian Blonde’. In contrast, Tim’s skin was so pale and white it seemed to glow. His hair was thick, curly, and very red, not orange, a dark red. The fact Tim kept it cut in a Mohawk with a long tail at the back just tickled Arthur. He liked Tim, even though he’d only spoken to him a few times when they’d worked on the fence. Tim presented what he wanted to the world and dared anyone to say something about it, so Arthur had no choice but to like him.
Viral Misery | Book 3 | Revelations Page 27