Deadies: Book 1, 2 & 3

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Deadies: Book 1, 2 & 3 Page 9

by Krystell Lake


  Nick removes the walkie and raises it to his mouth. “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t seem to keep your car steady and securely on the road, over and out.” Joe chuckles through presumptuous lips.

  “We’re back on track.” Nick says without further explanation.

  “Vicky got her mouth full?” Joe obscenely presumed.

  Nick eyes burrow into his brow. He goes to respond. I reach over and place my hand on the walkie, our eyes meet. I can see Nick wasn’t slightly amused by the vulgar comment. I smile to diffuse the comment and his reaction. “Gimme,” I slowly remove the walkie from Nick’s firm grip as his grimace slowly melts away.

  “Hey Joe, my mouth is empty at the moment but here’s a tip, listen up. When and if we run into any zombies, it may be a good idea to pay attention to what’s in front of you.”

  “Thanks for the tip. Will do Vicky.” Joe changes back into his emotionless monotone voice.

  There is silence. He drives. I ride. Before I know it an hour has passed faster than I expected.

  CHAPTER 9

  Oh my heart, I feel it beating in my chest. Fear is palpable, death is imminent. I have to get my nerves in check. I don’t want to let Nick down but most of all I would like to live to see another doomed day.

  We are here in disturbia. We were in an upscale residential neighborhood, perfect for raising children. Kids with Nick, I always thought my first husband would be a rock star. Rock stars and models, peanut butter and jelly. Why do I have such ridiculous thoughts? I think of Kait and clearly there is no place in this new world for children.

  The houses in this well-kept neighborhood were all mini mansions made of brick with multi car garages. This is the kind of suburb I would want to live in after my modeling career was over. Driving down this deserted street is a trip into fantasy land. There isn’t a deadie in sight, not even any dead bodies discarded or tossed about. Strange.

  Some of the grass is scorched by the sun whereas other lawns are beautifully green but in desperate need of a lawn mower. The green grass had to be a result of sprinkler systems set to timers. I hope we don’t get sprayed.

  We pulled up a few feet behind Doctor Mark’s Escalade and parked. I wished Nick would push me out the car. I had cement blocks for feet. I glance over at Nick. I need something to mentally get me out of the passenger seat and there it is.

  His piercing blue eyes enrapture me. “You ready?” He tries to smile but I can see the doubt stiffening his lips and making them look less full.

  I can’t speak. Of course I’m not ready. Who the hell is ready for this? Marine Joe maybe and he doesn’t want to be here.

  “Jesse I will not let anything happen to you. You understand?” There’s a slight quiver that touches his lips and gives me pause.

  “Yes.” My quaky voice crept out of me without my written permission or verbal consent.

  “Okay, keep your eyes and ears open. Unlock and load your weapon and just remember the L word you threw out, if you get bit by a freak I will kill you.” Nick winks and I see a hint of his half smile. The crooked half smile that enchanted me the first time I laid eyes on him.

  “I love you too.” I joke underneath the truth.

  “You two lovebirds ready to rock and roll?” Joe’s voice chimes in through the walkie-talkie and it’s almost as if he heard us.

  Nick raises the talking black block to his chin. “Let’s do this. It’s a nice day for a white wedding.”

  What the hell does that mean? Sometimes Nick can be so weird.

  “You two take up the rear.” Joe says through the walkie.

  “Roger that whiskey tango.”

  Whatever that means, Marine Joe and Doctor Mark were out of the truck before we were, eager for that white wedding I suppose. They walked over to us and I immediately wondered why we didn’t park in the driveway. The driveway in front of the garage was empty. I think it would make for an easier escape but this is a male dominated group. It’s best to zip the lip and follow without making any suggestions. I do not want to be reminded that I am a mere supermodel.

  We all hiked up the flawless, crack free driveway. It was on a slight incline. Nick and I lagged behind, as the odd couple Joe and Doctor Mark made it to the front door. I had my gun at the ready. A term I learned from Nick. I watched Nick’s fluid movements and mimicked them. This was easy for me. My actions are precise and I am graceful with a gun. All those years on the runway have paid off.

  Joe used a crowbar to open the front door. It was fairly easy task, breaking and entering. I never thought that I would be doing these kinds of unlawful things. On Joe’s back, draped over his shoulder was a strap with a rifle hanging from it. The rifle was black and wood brown with a scope on top. Something Nick called a M77 Ruger Hawkeye Compact Magnum. That’s all Kryptonian to me. Oh how I long to sip champagne on the French Riviera.

  Joe was the first one in the house. He had laid the crowbar at the front door. I don’t know why. Doctor Mark entered one step behind our desert jarhead. I was right behind the doctor and I could see he was nervous, scared and a host of other emotions.

  Nick took up the rear. I appreciated him watching my back. Doctor Mark had a small shiny silver handgun. It was called a Smith and Wesson .38 special. I’m not sure what was so special about it. It was really rather ordinary to me.

  Doctor Mark reluctantly took the .38 when it was given to him back at the house. It was painstakingly explained to him that he could only pull it out if he was in immediate danger. Doc didn’t care for his gun exclusion rule but he knew he needed Joe and Nick. Any rescue mission without the dynamic duo would be a suicide mission.

  We were all in the house planted on the hardwood floor with no sense of direction. The house was bigger on the inside then it looked on the outside.

  “Which way?” Joe whispered to Doctor Mark.

  “Which way what?” Doctor Mark stopped and I almost walked into him.

  Joe spun around to glare at the doctor. “To the fucking basement,” Joe shouted in a hushed tone, if that’s even possible.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been inside the house before.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Joe tried to keep his temper and tone under wraps.

  Doctor Mark shrugged and shook his head. Are you fucking kidding me? I repeated Joe’s sentiments in my head. You dumbass doctor! You’ve never been in the house your son lives in? Is this what divorce looks like? I hope he was better with a scalpel than with family relations.

  “I just blow the horn and he comes out.” Doctor Mark makes a feeble attempt to explain his visitation situation but Joe has already turned on his heels and walked pass the foyer and down the long hallway. We all quietly follow. We pass a writing table with unopened mail on top of it, a tall china cabinet full of collectable trinkets and a single antique looking chair.

  Joe leads us to the basement door. It’s right off to the side of an enormous kitchen full of stainless steel appliances. There’s an island in the middle of the kitchen and it brings back the memory of my dead neighbor Laura chasing me around my kitchen island trying to kill me.

  Joe puts his ear to the basement door while we all watch. He slowly reaches for the doorknob and we all stand frozen with grave expectations.

  “Wait.” Nick calls out from the rear. “I thought she said they couldn’t get out the basement because there were freaks all throughout the house?”

  “Yeah but they’re not here now so let’s go down there and get them out.” Doctor Mark pleaded and I felt a twinge of sorrow for him. He just wants to be reunited with his son and ex-wife. I’m sure he’s not thinking about how unbelievably quiet it is in a house that is supposed to be overrun by deadies.

  Joe flashes an angry look of disgust at Doctor Mark. It’s clear, Joe really doesn’t like him. Maybe there’s more history between these guys then I’m aware of.

  We all stand at the plain white basement door. Joe twists the basement doorknob. It isn’t locked. I’m shocked as
he slowly opens the door without any excessive force. Joe turns quizzically at me. I guess he’s shocked as well.

  “Nick, guard the door.” Joe commands under his breathe.

  Nick nods yes and gives me a look that says be careful.

  Joe slaps the light switch on the wall. He clicks it up and down twice. Nothing happens, no lights. Seriously? Joe grabs a flashlight out of his back pocket and leads us down the stairs and into the darkness. We creep down the steps one at a time leaving Nick at the door.

  I think I’m afraid but there is a surge of adrenalin pushing me onward and making me feel fearless. I have Nick’s lucky Glock and I know it holds no magical or mystical powers but I can hope.

  Doctor Mark is moving like a snail as we walk down the stairs. I’m trying to carefully follow and keep a close distance without bumping into him. If I bump into him and accidentally shoot him that wouldn’t be good. It’s really dark down here and there is only the single swirl of illumination from Joe’s flashlight to lead the way.

  When we all finally make it to the ground level we stand side by side with Joe in the middle. I look over at him and I can see he is just as perplexed as I am. I can see he has the same questions I do. Why is it so quiet? Where are they? What the hell is going on here?

  This basement is furnished and finished. It was like a New York walk-in apartment but much bigger. Joe took a few steps forward leaving us behind. I followed his flashlight as it bounced around the basement walls and laminate floors.

  What? I thought I saw something. Joe must have thought the same because he quickly brought his flashlight back to the object in the far right corner of the basement.

  Joe’s flashlight raised and illuminated the object. We all focused on the object trying anxiously to figure out what we were actually seeing.

  It was a little person sitting with their back to us on the floor in the corner, a child perhaps or a small woman. No definitely a child because of the pink nightgown with the words Barbie written all over the back. The child was too far for me to read the words but I knew what the written Barbie logo looked like and I could make that much out. The child had two braided blonde ponytails that were matted and knotted from lack of upkeep. She was like a statue. The flash of light didn’t make her turn to look at us. Maybe she was just dead. Dead, sitting Indian style? I’ve never seen that before. Oddly she wasn’t dirty. From what I could see, she was clean. Her nightgown was a perfect baby girl pink with Barbie scrabbled in bright fuchsia.

  Joe gave me a nod and he took a step forward. I raised my gun and remembered that Doctor Mark was beside me. He must have been holding his breath. I couldn’t even sense his presence beside me.

  I’m ready to back up Joe. I’m a good shot. This is what I tell myself, a comfort pep talk in the face of danger.

  When Nick and I went out to syphon gas from abandoned cars, he would set up a quick impromptu shooting range. I could only get a few rounds off before we had to leave. The few shots I got off were good. I hit my target more times than not.

  I looked to Joe who was quietly inching his way toward the little flaxen-haired girl. In the darkness I could see Joe move like he was trained for this. He was trained, not for this, but who is?

  Finally Doctor Mark took a breath and he looked over at me with his brow pinched so tight I thought it may make a permanent indentation. I couldn’t see the doctor’s gun but I could see he was scared shitless. Maybe he would have felt better with a two silicone implants in his hands. I feel better with this Glock 19.

  Joe paused when he was about three feet from the little girl. He glanced back at me so quickly I almost missed it. Joe held his flashlight in one hand and his handgun in the other. He leaned forward and tapped the child on her shoulder with the tip of his gun. The girl didn’t move but Doctor Mark took a step back. Seriously?

  Joe tapped the child again with more force and her head spun around and greeted us with the grotesque tooth-filled growl of a lion. Her face was shallow, that much I could see in the darkness. She was one of them.

  Joe didn’t back away. He just held his gun a few feet from little Barbie’s head. The deadie girl’s eyes darted around to asset the three of us. Maybe she was trying to figure out who to eat first.

  She opened her mouth again and a vastly different sound emerged. This time it was more of a howl, like a primal mating call. It reminds me of when some guy forced me to watch the Discovery channel when I wanted to watch America’s Next Top Model. The sound was like the wail of an ailing wolf.

  The girl’s howl startled Joe. I could see it in his unsteady posture. At least that’s what I thought until the howl was answered with a chorus of growling from all directions.

  Fuck, there are more of them down here! Joe could see what Doctor Mark and I saw but he noticed it a split second earlier. My eyes were on the move as the choir of deadies appeared from various corners in the room. Three stumbled out from what looked like a half bathroom. One peeked its concave skull over the back edge of a sofa. Another crawled around an old refrigerator. The little girl spun around to standing in one swift ninja move. How did she do that?

  I had already taken a few paces backwards. Three plus one plus one and the little girl. That’s six. Six? That’s not all of them. Joe’s flashlight scams the room and there are more deadies popping out from what seems like everywhere. Shit, seven, eight, damn!

  “Move! Move! Move!” Joe yells out in drill sergeant mode and I am the first to plant my feet on the basement stairs.

  Another run for my life, this scenario seems all too familiar, deadie de ja vu. I sprint up the stairs leaping as fast as I can, taking two giant steps at a time. The doctor is on my heels with Joe right behind him. We are stomping so hard up the steps I think the stairs may give way.

  As soon as I make it to the top of the basement stairs, Nick grabs my arm and swings me around. His eyes dart around my body for injuries. I think he wants to hug me but refrains and goes into high alert.

  The doctor runs pass us and is halfway to the front door before I can blink. Joe emerges and slams the basement door shut. Joe doesn’t look frightened. He looks like an other-worldly robot.

  “Vicki hold the door!” Joe yells at me and even though that’s not my name I respond to it.

  My adrenalin kicks in. I scurry to the door and lean my back and shoulder against it.

  “Cabinet!” Joe points toward the door. He and Nick run down the hall. In a second they are dragging a china cabinet toward me. The heavy cabinet is scratching and scuffing the hardwood floors. It’s worse than the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard.

  “Oh!” The door thumps me on my back. Shit they’re trying to get out. I push all my one hundred and twenty-five pounds on the door. I think I smell them through the door. Is that my imagination? I know for certain I hear them, the nagging stroppy growling mixed with bloody gurgling.

  “Fuck!” The door jumps open and slaps me in my back. I use all my strength to push it shut. Nick and Joe push the cabinet a few feet away from me.

  “Turn it the long way!” Joe shouts the order at Nick.

  I hold the door as it beats me in my back and shoulder like a drum. “Hurry up!”

  Nick and Joe tilt the china cabinet so that it’s no longer tall but now wide. Joe drops his end and with a loud resounding thud it hits the floor and the glass shatters all over the floor. Whatever knickknacks that were inside the cabinet are destroyed. The guys push the cabinet as close as they can without removing me from the basement door. They know just as I do, if I move off the door the deadies are going to push their way in.

  As the door rumbles on my back I turn to face the door. I hold the door with one hand and remove my loaner Glock from my waistband. I lift the barrel and ease up on the door.

  One lone disgusting deadie pokes its head through the door. I aim.

  BLAM! Point blank, one shot to the head. Gooey gross brain matter splatters all over my arm. Fuck another one peeks out. BLAM! Right through the mouth. I blew through i
ts rotted teeth. How the hell do the bodies decay so fast?

  When I look at Nick he has his gun drawn. “Move back!”

  I do as I’m told. But I keep Nick’s good luck Glock at the ready. Joe and Nick try to push the china cabinet up against the door just as another damn deadie peeks his hollow gray skull through the opening in the door.

  I raise my gun. I pull the trigger once. BLAM! BLAM! I turn and look. Nick has fired his Mark XIX Desert Eagle .44 Magnum. We put two separate bullets in the deadies head. The dead creature falls back and I take this opportunity to try to shut the door. Nick quickly sits his Magnum on the overturned cabinet. Just as I shut the door completely, Nick and Joe slid the china cabinet in front of the battered basement door.

  I sigh. That was close. Nick picks his gun up off the cabinet.

  “Bonnie and Clyde, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  That is an excellent decision. I’m sure all the dead in a three block radius probably heard the gunshots. The dead will be on their way to us sooner than we want or need.

  We head to the foyer where Doctor Mark is on his cell phone.

  “This was the wrong house.” He tells us as he holds the iPhone to his ear. His eyes glaze over as he ends his cell call.

  I’m wondering why he is standing here in the foyer on his cell instead of helping us with the deadies that just attacked us. I could have used his help holding the goddamn door shut.

  Doctor Mark pants like a dog and looks to Nick. “I think it’s the house next door.” The doctor stutters.

  Joe rushes the doctor with his hands launched for the doctor’s throat. As soon as Joe’s hands make contact, Doctor Mark’s body slams into the foyer wall.

  “You fuckin’ idiot! You almost got us killed!” Joe spits, literally as he shouts the veracity.

  Nick springs into action. He forcibly tries to pry Joe’s fingers off of Doctor Mark’s squeezed neck. Joe refuses to release him. The doctor is fighting back unsuccessfully and turning a purplish blue. Nick cannot seem to get Joe’s hands from around Doctor Mark’s neck.

 

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