“Here, take these,” he said.
“Really,” Patrick said, “thank you, I’ll be fine.”
“Dad,” Dwayne said sternly, “just take the damn pills already. Okay?”
His father chuckled and did as he was told. He then told them of his encounter with Omar Hendley after searching the two houses.
“Lucky for me,” Patrick said, “he just reacted first. If he would have aimed that rifle, I’d be a dead man.”
Both of these kids were relieved that he was not badly hurt and absolutely furious at their bastard of a neighbor.
“You know,” Patrick continued, “there were a few cases of water that I left in the two houses. I couldn’t carry everything and had just figured I’d eventually go back for them. Well, I guess that’s not happening now.” His eyelids started to get heavy. “Whoa, I think the pain meds are taking effect. Maybe I’ll just lie down on the bed and rest for a second or two.”
He laid back and his children put his feet up on the bed. Ten seconds later he was sound asleep.
§§§
It was nine o’clock at night and Patrick was still asleep. The four teens were sitting around the dining room table. They were very angry and extremely agitated. Dwayne had been consumed with fear at the thought of his father’s near miss with death. The prospect of losing him left him almost paralyzed. Dwayne realized that his father’s death would probably result in a death sentence for the four of them, too. He knew that he couldn’t let that happen – no matter what.
“I can’t believe that fucking bastard shot my father,” Dwayne hissed between clenched teeth.
“He’s been causing trouble on this block forever,” Billy added.
Nodding his head and looking at everyone, Dwayne said, “He can’t get away with this.”
“I could shoot him myself,” Erica said, sitting back helplessly. Everyone sat there fuming in silence.
Dwayne slapped his hand on the table. “He’s got to pay,” he said finally.
They all looked at him.
“What if he does this again?” he said. “There’s no telling if he won’t try to shoot Dad again. He’s a nut.”
“What are you going to do, Dwayne,” Erica said in frustration, “take Dad’s gun, walk over and ring his doorbell, then shoot him?”
“Well, I could,” he said, petulantly.
Shaking his head and snorting, Billy said, “He’ll shoot you with that rifle before you could even get up the steps, D.”
“Maybe he’ll be eaten by zombies,” Greta said.
“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Billy laughed.
Dwayne started thinking and then smiled coldly. “So would I.”
Billy glanced over at him. “What are you thinking, D man?”
Smiling broader now, Dwayne said, “I bet we could make that happen.”
“How?” said Erica, confused.
“I don’t know,” Dwayne said absently, “make some noise or something so that they’ll all go and attack his house.” Billy and Erica looked at him askance.
Greta, though, remarked, “Yeah, that may work.”
They all looked at her. She looked back and shrugged, “Maybe a… what do you call it? A boom box.”
They all smiled at the thought, and then frowned as they realized no one owned a boom box. Then thinking, Billy poked Dwayne.
“Hey,” he said, “do you still have those walkie-talkies we used to mess around with as kids?”
“Uh, yeah,” Dwayne said. Then he brightened. “Yes. Yes, I do. They probably need new batteries, but that’s not a problem.”
Erica and Greta looked at them, puzzled. Looking back at them, Billy said, “We could stick one on his porch and have the other one here. We could maybe yell into it to attract their attention. That’ll fix his ass.”
“But you have to put it on the back porch. How will the zombies in front know which house it is,” Greta asked. “They don’t seem too smart.”
Dwayne sat there staring at the surface of the table for a second. Then, snapping his fingers, he said, “Wait a minute. You know that multicolor, flashing light I got?”
Erica chuckled, “You mean that stupid light you bought that looked like a disco ball?”
“Yes, that’s it,” he said. “I got it on sale at RadioShack a year ago. And you’re right; it was a piece of shit. I thought it would look cool, but all it did was give me a freaking headache.” They all laughed.
Warming up to his plan, Dwayne continued, “We could stick it on the back porch with the walkie-talkie. We’ll turn it on and then run. The light is bright enough to be seen from the street. Then we could yell into the other handset from here.”
Erica smiled evilly and said, “No. Not yelling. I have a better idea. You’re just going to love this. It’s much more appropriate.” As they looked at her questioningly, she said, “You’ll just have to wait and see. But believe me, it’ll be worth it.”
Their nefarious plan now hatched, they all left the table and prepared. Dwayne found the walkie-talkies in the basement and put fresh batteries in them. Next, he tested them and found that they worked fine. He then got the disco light and Greta helped him change its batteries, also.
Meanwhile, Erica sat on the living room couch and thumbed through her phone. She was looking for something very specific.
His part done, Dwayne walked in and said to Erica, “What are you doing?”
Breaking into a grin, she answered, “Ah, here it is.” She looked up at her brother as Billy and Greta entered. “We’re not going to yell in the mic, we’re going to play Hendley a song.”
“What?” they all said in unison.
Holding up her iPhone so they could see it, she showed them what she picked. Instantly, they all started laughing and giving each other high-fives. This was going to be awesome.
The Next Day…
It was one thirty in the morning when Dwayne quietly slid out the back door. After him came Greta. She had volunteered to join him. She was holding the bag with the disco light and the one walkie-talkie. They both silently slid through the hedges and stealthily crept up to Hendley’s fence. Dwayne grabbed the top and lifted himself up. The old man’s house was completely dark.
Taking a breath he hoisted himself over the fence. Once he was on his feet, Greta hung the bag over the side of the fence and he took it. Silently, Dwayne crept over to the porch and slowly mounted the stairs. He never took his eyes off of the glass door. The drapes were pulled across them and he watched for any flutter of the fabric.
Reaching the door, he crouched down and took the walkie-talkie out of the bag. Switching it on, keyed the mic and whispered, “Okay?”
A responding “Okay,” answered.
Turning the volume up all the way, Dwayne then set it down on the left side of the door about two feet away. Reaching back into the bag, he removed the portable disco light and walked to the right side of the door. He set the light on the deck at the top of the redwood railing. Dwayne wanted to make sure the flashing lights would be clearly visible from the street. Looking up, he saw Greta’s head peeking over the fence. She gave him a thumbs up. He closed his eyes briefly and took a long, shaky breath.
Okay, D, he thought, it’s now or never.
With a soft click, he turned on the light. Instantly a whirl of multicolored lights swirled around the yard. A little stunned, he had forgotten just how brilliant that disco light was. Quickly he hopped off the deck, jumping onto the grass, and ran to the fence. Clambering over to the other side, he and Greta sped back to their back door where Erica and Billy waited.
On the street, the bright, flashing, multicolored lights caught the eye of the zombies on the sidewalk in front. They turned and stared incomprehensively at the swirling colors. Their moans became louder.
Inside the Hendley house, Omar Hendley opened his eyes. He turned and looked at the digital clock.
Fuck, he thought, it’s a quarter to two.
Omar had only fallen asleep around one in the
morning. Never a great sleeper anyway, the moans from the zombies rattled his nerves and made his sleep fitful at best.
God damn that infernal moaning. Oh well, I’m up… I might as well pee.
Dwayne and Greta had just raced inside their house. Erica was just inside the door with the other walkie-talkie in one hand and her phone in the other.
“Is the volume up all the way?” she asked.
“You bet,” chuckled Dwayne.
With her thumb, she scrolled to the song she wanted, held the two devices close and hit play.
The first notes of Queens’ Another One Bites the Dust rang out.
“One of Dad’s favorites,” Erica said with satisfaction.
When Patrick bought the walkie-talkie set for Christmas, he had gotten a deal on a professional model. It was not some cheap toy. Now, sitting on Hendley’s deck, it proved its worth. The pounding vocals and instruments ran out loudly. In the dining room of their darkened house, the four teens looked at each other in awe.
“Holy shit,” whispered Billy.
On the streets, the rock ‘n roll vocals rolled over the now agitated zombies. Guided by the flashing strobe lights, the entire throng of zombies converged on the rear deck of the Hendley house, loudly moaning and snarling.
Standing over the toilet, Omar had just about finished urinating, when the first chords of Queen sounded. He jumped at the sound causing the last of the stream to run down his pajama leg.
“Shit,” he yelled, shaking off and tucking himself back in. “What in the living hell is going on? Goddamnit.”
Omar quickly rushed out of the bathroom. Momentarily baffled by the din, he realized that it was coming from his own backyard. He could also hear the undead outside in the street increase their volume. The old man pounded out of the bedroom and down the hall to the staircase.
“If this is somebody’s idea of a joke,” he snorted, “I’ll blow their stupid head off.”
He descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen. The wild, multicolored lights flashing outside made him stop short.
“What the –”
He heard noises on the back deck and thought, Shannon. I’ll bet it’s him. I should’ve killed him this afternoon. A thump on the glass door focused him.
“You’re dead now, Shannon,” he bellowed.
Hendley strode to the sliding glass doors behind the heavy drapes. He reached down and picked up the rifle that he had leaning against the wall. Hearing someone rub up against the glass, he grinned coldly and reached out, grabbing the edge of the drapes.
“Another one bites the dust, my ass,” he snorted.
With a mighty pull, Omar flung the drapes aside. His mouth dropped open in shock as his eyes grew wide. He found himself staring face to face with a deck full of zombies. On seeing him standing there on the other side of the glass; they snarled and threw themselves against the doors, pounding on the shaking glass. Omar panicked and grabbed the drapes again. He tried to pull them closed but one of the rings snagged on the rod. Dropping the rifle, he grabbed the drapes with both hands and yanked as hard as he could. The drapery rod came off of the brackets and the whole thing fell on his head. Cursing loudly, he staggered around tugging at the fabric covering his head and shoulders.
Finally pulling the twisted drapes off, Omar threw them on the floor. His awkward gyrations mere feet from them, drove the zombies into a frenzy. As he bent down and reached for his rifle again, the sliding glass doors cracked, and then shattered inwards covering him in glass shards. Hendley screamed loudly as the horde of undead poured through the opening and fell upon him, ripping and tearing with their teeth.
Erica lifted her finger from the button and turned off her phone. They had heard the door shatter and Hendley scream. The disco light had already stopped, having been knocked from its perch on the rail and smashed under the feet of the many zombies that entered the yard. With the moans and snarls coming from two houses away, the four teenagers stared at each other in silence. A multitude of emotions rushed through them at once: elation that the plan worked, revenge served, the terror of what actually happened and the fact that they had succeeded in murdering a human being. All of those feelings and emotions swirled within their minds simultaneously. Not only had the entire world changed, but they realized that they had changed with it.
§§ §
The Lincoln Navigator pulled out of the driveway. The early morning light was peeking through the leaves on the tree-lined street. Carl paused for a second before pulling out. Two zombies were shuffling their way toward them, but were still more than a house away. They groaned and raised their arms in anticipation as the SUV came into view. Rachel stared out the passenger side window at them as her husband pulled out into the street and drove away. She hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she thought that she knew one of them. He looked like a landscaper they used.
Jason was sitting in the back. He was going through the list in his head, trying to remember if they had packed everything they needed. With the thought of everything they took came the remembrance everything that they had left. He grew sad for the loss. We’ll be back, he thought. We will be back.
The drive out of town was uneventful. They avoided the downtown shopping area by staying in the upscale residential sections. The landscape here was mostly large houses on big lots. The area was heavily wooded and the houses separated by copses of aspen and maple. A few undead roamed around, but not enough to create any immediate danger while driving. Carl knew the area well and was able to stick to country roads for the most part. He knew at some point they would have to try to get on the New York Thruway, but for now he was able to avoid it.
§§§
Patrick sat up in bed. His side was a little stiff and still sore, but the minor wound was not going to be a problem. Looking at his watch he saw that it was nine o’clock already. Rubbing his eyes, he thought, Wow, I haven’t slept this long in years. It must have been the painkillers.
After washing and brushing his teeth, he looked out of the bedroom window before he went downstairs. Looking down the street, he observed that there is seemed to be a few less zombies out than average. All of the ones that were around the Cortes house were gone. He looked closely, and to his dismay, the body of Angelina was gone. There was just a patch of reddish lawn where her body had lain. A chill went down his spine.
Walking down the stairs, Patrick entered the kitchen. The kids weren’t up yet, so he started making himself a bowl of cereal. The last quart of milk passed the smell test, but he knew that it wouldn’t for long. As he placed his cereal bowl on the table, he gave a puzzled look at that pack of open batteries lying there. Shrugging, he moved them aside and began to eat. Coffee was already brewing.
By the time he rinsed his bowl out, one by one, the four teens in the house came downstairs and started to make breakfast alongside of him.
“How are you feeling, Dad?”
“Does it hurt much?”
“Looking good, Mr. S.”
Patrick thanked them and responded. He was sitting drinking his coffee, while each of them ate something different. He watched them and smiled.
“I noticed that some of the zombies outside seem to be gone,” he said.
“W-what?” Dwayne said, looking up suddenly.
“The zombies. In the street,” Patrick repeated. “There doesn’t seem to be as many in front.” Patrick took another sip of coffee. The four kids looked at each other.
“You know,” Patrick said, as of yet unaware of the tension in the air, “I was thinking about how we’re going to get those cases of water from the two houses back here. We’ll definitely have to avoid going anywhere near the Hendley house.”
The teens shifted uncomfortably. No one looked at Patrick. Sensing a problem, he asked “What? What happened?”
Dwayne fidgeted and said, “I, uh, I don’t think he’s going to be a problem anymore.”
Knitting his brows, puzzled, Patrick said, “How do you mean?”
“Hendley is dead,” Erica blurted out.
“Dead?” Patrick said. “What do you… how did he die?”
“We took care of it, Mr. S,” Billy said. He tried to smile, but when Patrick stared at him, he stopped.
Patrick looked at each one of them in turn and said simply, “What do you mean you took care of it?”
Dwayne said forcefully, “Dad, he shot you. He tried to kill you. Knowing him, he probably would try it again.” Dwayne was getting emotional. They all were.
Pandora (Book 5): Behold A Pale Horse Page 18