Dead Series (Book 2): A Little More Dead: Gunfire & Sunshine (2 page)

Wendy frowned.
“Why would you do that? He could’ve bitten you.”

“He knocked my gun
out of my hand,” he replied, examining his knuckles.

Taking his hand in
hers, she inspected it through narrow blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He pulled
away. “But these damn things are starting to give me a headache.” Stomping over
to the gate, he drew the Beretta PX4 Storm and put an end to their relentless
whining with a few close-range head shots, scaring up a flock of seagulls feasting
on the newly fallen bodies in the sand. He jammed the gun into the nylon
holster strapped around his right thigh and stormed past Wendy. “Let’s get
inside before Troy kills everyone.”

Chapter
Two

C
urtis paced back
and forth through a stripe of sunlight coming through the glass walls in the
lower level living room while Paul stared at the sleek couch with clean lines.
It looked expensive and Troy just ruined it with his blood. But in Paul’s mind,
it wasn’t a charcoal gray couch with white trim. It was the mint sectional back
at the Jacobsen house. The one Sophia ruined with her blood. The one she died
on. Forcing his eyes to Cora in the armchair next to him, he took her hand and
tugged at her weepy gaze.

“Are you sure
you’re okay?”

She gave him a
half-hearted smile, her hazel-colored eyes that used to shine like pennies now
sunken and dark. She looked older. Frailer. Nothing like the sparkly woman
prancing about her kitchen playing hostess while Brock grilled up fresh cuts out
on the back deck.

Paul glanced at Stephanie
tending to Troy’s shoulder before turning back to Cora. “What happened to you,
Cora? Where’d you go?”

She pulled her ripped
robe tighter around her and sat up straighter, attempting to compose herself
and losing the battle. “I’m sorry for leaving like that but I had to get out of
that car. I just... I don’t know. I had to go.”

Exchanging a wary
look with Wendy, Shelly1 slipped through his mind. “Where did you go?”

Cora shook her
head, shaking tears down her cheeks, voice escaping as a pathetic whine. “I don’t
remember much. I ended up at some abandoned house and just slept for a while.”
Pressing her lips into a thin grim line, she grew quiet and wrung her hands as
Curtis paced the room. “A few years back, when my son died in a motorcycle
accident, I didn’t think I could go on.” She nearly laughed. “I thought I was
lost then but this...”

Everything got
quiet and even Troy was watching her.

“Sometimes at
night,” she continued in a soft voice, studying her hands through faraway eyes.
“I would hear his bedroom door click shut and think,
Oh good, Chuck made it home safely
.” Sobbing, tears glistened on
her cheeks. “And then I would wake up and find his room just the way he left it
before the accident took him and I was so sad. And now I am sad and I am scared
but I don’t want to give up.” She looked up at Paul. “I know what you must
think but Brock wouldn’t expect that from me and I’m sorry for leaving like
that. It was a mistake.” She sighed and turned to the others. “Thank you for
what you did for me out there. I don’t know you people from Adam and it means
the world to me and I’m sorry you had to do that.”

Wendy swiped at a
tear and took Cora’s hand. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I wish that were
true,” she replied, coughing into her hand.

Wendy turned to
Curtis. “Can you get her some water, please?”

Curtis stopped his
pacing. “Do I look like a fucking waiter to you? Get your own damn water!”

“I was thinking of
something stronger,” Cora wheezed.

Stephanie grabbed
an open bottle from the coffee table and brought it over, flashing Cora a warm
smile.

“Who the hell are
you anyway, lady?” Curtis planted his hands on his hips and there was no
mistaking the disdain in his voice. “Tell me again why my brother just got bit
saving your ass!”

“Her name is Cora
and she’s with us,” Paul said. “So you can just relax.”

Curtis staggered
backwards. “
Relax
? Your little catatonic
friend here just about got us all killed.”

Paul rose to his
feet. “Look, her husband just lost his life and she nearly lost her own.”

“And now my
brother is losing his!” Curtis got in his face, nudging him with his chest. “We
were doing just fine before you showed up.”

Paul backed away,
holding his hands up in surrender. “I get it and I’m sorry, man. I really am.”

“I told you,
Steph! This what we get for helping idiots!”

“Hey, next time
don’t let the gate slam shut behind you.”

Curtis slowly
turned to Paul and sharpened his gaze, the room growing quiet and cold. “What’d
you just say?”

“You let the gate
slam shut.”

“What was I supposed
to do? Go back and get a lawn chair to prop it open? Fucking thing’s
spring-loaded!” Curtis bumped him again and Paul shoved back with both hands,
sending Curtis sprawling to his ass. Jumping to his feet, Wendy darted between
them and pushed against their bloody chests.

“Enough! This
isn’t helping anyone.”

“Curtis,” Troy
said in a weak voice, coughing up some blood. “Back off and go get some air!”

He glared at Paul
and pointed at Troy. “Anything happens to him and I’ll fucking kill you.”

A malicious grin
swept through Paul’s clean shaven cheeks, hands balling into fists.

“Oh what? You
think I’m scared just because you’re bigger than me?” Curtis spit on the Adidas
Paul took from an abandoned Kohl’s store. “I’ve put bigger boys than you on
their ass before, hoss.”

“Both of you stop
it!” Stephanie turned a scowl loose on her younger brother. “What’s the matter
with you? You don’t think these people have been through enough already? Everyone
here is hurting, Curtis! Not just you!”

He stared past her
at Paul in the thunderstruck silence that followed, his heated glower
smoldering around the edges. Running a hand through his sandy blond hair, he
grunted before stomping upstairs.

“Go take a
shower!” Stephanie yelled after him. “A cold one!” She turned back to Paul and
pulled dark hair over a shoulder, exhaling a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry, he’s
just scared…and out of weed, which is a bad combination for all of us.”

Wendy wrinkled her
brow. “
Weed
?” She traded a hesitant
look with Paul and thumbed behind her. “I’ve…got some back on the boat.”

“You do?”

“And more guns,”
Paul added.

“Then we’ll go
back and soon.” Looking down, Stephanie surveyed her bloody tank top and jeans.
“But first I need a shower. There’s one on each floor and clean clothes in the bedrooms.”
Turning to Cora, she tried to smile. “We have solar power and plenty of hot
water. There’s also a full bar around the corner and food in the fridge. Just help
yourself.”

“Thank you,” Cora
replied, sinking back into the chair.

Stephanie offered
up a shallow nod and returned to Troy, the weight of the world hunching her
shoulders like a demon riding her back.

Cora’s eyes
bounced between Paul and Wendy while something that sounded like glass broke
upstairs. Staggering to her feet, Cora lifted her brow. “Can I get y’all
anything?”

Chapter
Three

W
endy stepped out
onto the back patio in a red bikini. Black high heels clicked against the
pavers, the handgun strapped to her right thigh transforming her into a villain
more suiting for a James Bond film. She was hell on high heels and incredibly
beautiful and Paul hated her for it. Leaning back in a chaise lounge, he
returned his attention to the beach, watching the birds pick at the corpses lying
outside the fence. This was their life now and no one goes anywhere unstrapped.
Not even in a bikini on the beach. He was just thankful to have the blood washed
off. The hot shower was a break that breathed new life into his tired bones.

Clicking her heels
back and forth in front of him, she strutted her stuff like she was on stage,
begging for his dollars. Paul turned to her and peered over the top of some
blue sunglasses he found in a dresser upstairs. “You look nice.”

She fanned a hand
through the air at him. “This old thing?”

“Looks brand new.”

“It is. Still had
the tags on it and everything.” Resting her hands on her curvy hips, she struck
a pose with her wet hair blowing in the wind. “These people were so rich it’s
not even funny.”

He inhaled the
smell of soap and shampoo oozing from his pores. “I like the gun, too. Nice
touch.”

“This is my new
purse.”

“I’m not so sure
about the heels though.”

“Well, I’m not
going on a supply run in them; I just…” An impish smile bent her lips. “Wanted
to look nice for a minute.” Her eyes trailed down his chest and stopped in his
lap. “Those fit you good.”

He looked down to
the white tank top and gray board shorts he found in the same dresser as the
shades. “Place is like a clothing store in there.”

Sitting in a red
chair next to him, she glanced back at the house. “Can you imagine living like
this? Their vacation pad is stocked better than most regular houses.”

Paul took a long
drink from a cold bottle of beer and turned back to the dead people on the
beach, adjusting the 9mm that he felt naked without. “Yeah, sucks to lose it
all like this.”

She leaned on her
knees. “We’re all screwed now, even the rich.”

“How’s Troy?” Paul
asked, inadvertently catching a glimpse down her skimpy top.

“Pale.”

He sighed and
looked back out to sea, memories catching up to him like old ghosts. “I had to
get out of there. It all…”

Wendy set a soft hand
on his forearm. “I know.”

He watched the
waves crash and the birds pick, shaking thoughts of Sophia and Dan from his
head with everything he had. Grieving was a luxury they could no longer afford.
“Stephanie still thinks he’s going to pull through.”

“I know, and I
didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.”

“I did.”

“You did?”

“Had to.” He took
another drink. “She needs to be ready when he turns, and he
will
turn.” Paul glanced back at the
house. “Where’s Cora?”

Leaning back,
Wendy crossed her legs and let a heel dangle from her toes. “Asleep in one of
the bedrooms.” A dramatic exhale ruffled her shiny red lips. “I still can’t
believe she made it this far on her own.”

“On foot and
unarmed? I thought I was seeing things at first.”

“I had no idea
what you were doing when you took off down those stairs.” She twirled a wet
lock around a finger. “I thought you were running to save that old man
straggler.”

“What’re the odds
she could make it this far on her own like that? And to this beach house?”

“She knew where we
were going.”

“Yeah, but not to
this very beach house. We didn’t even know we were coming here.”

Wendy shrugged. “She
must be here for a reason.”

Paul snorted. “Yeah,
to drink all our booze.”

“I mean something
besides that.”

“All I know is
they blame us for Troy and they’re right.”

“They don’t blame
us.” She squished her lips into the side of her face. “Okay, Curtis blames us
but it’s no one’s fault.”

Paul tipped the
bottle back and finished it while Wendy coiled a strand of hair around a
finger. “Curtis is going to shoot me when Troy turns and I’m calling it right
now. That guy is totally unstable.”

“He’s not going to
shoot you.”

“We should’ve
never come here.”

“That’s not true.”

“Take a look
around, Wendy! This place is just as unsafe as everywhere else.”

She let go of her
hair. “Paul, don’t start second guessing yourself now or you’ll go crazy.”

“
Start
?” He laughed sharply. “Everyone I
have tried to help has died. Everyone.”

“I haven’t.”

He turned back to
the birds pecking at the dead, the future growing clearer with each hour that
passed. “How long do you really think we can last against those…
things
? We’re just ordinary people.
We’re not wired for this.”

She stared at him
in the ocean silence that came next. “So what do you wanna do, Paul? Quit? Again?”
She sighed. “Ya know, to be honest, I’m getting a little tired of your
wishy-washy attitude.”

“
Wishy-washy
?”

“Those things
aren’t our biggest enemy, Paul; your doubt is our biggest enemy.”

He smiled tightly
at her. “I doubt it.”

“You’re not funny.
Look, I know you lost your wife and I know how much you loved her,” she said, placing
a hand over her heart. “From my perspective, it seems like the most horrible
thing in the world and I can’t imagine what you’re going through because it
hurts to even try. I didn’t have someone like that so I’ll never know.” Her
gaze lowered to her high heels. The waves crashed and the birds screeched. “You
keep saying we’re just average people but that’s not true. Average people don’t
survive
this
.”

“We’ve just gotten
lucky.”

“
Lucky
? Is that what you call it? After
everything we’ve been through, we’re still alive. No military training, no doomsday
prepper supplies, no Live Strong bracelets, nothing.” Uncrossing her legs, she
rested her elbows on her knees and folded her hands together. “Think about it. You
made it out of Des Moines with a hunting shotgun and a handgun. I made it to
the bar with
nothing
. Time and time
again, we cheat death and I think
something
is keeping us alive.”

Paul frowned.
“Something like what?”

“
Something
that means we are meant for bigger
things than we ever dreamed of.” Wendy stared hard at him. “Much bigger.”

“Oh yeah, because
this is way better than playing outfield for the Los Angeles Dodgers,” he
grumbled, taking a swig from his already empty bottle.

Her voice fell to
a whisper on the wind. “
Something
is
happening. I can feel it.”

He grew quiet with
a salty breeze licking his wet hair and the sun kissing his face. The only flaw
in her theory was that
something
was
keeping them alive…for now. Tomorrow could be a different story, or the day
after that. The news stations used to love airing miraculous survival stories
of a toddler found alive after being lost in the woods for three days straight,
or someone surviving a plane crash or a mudslide or a tornado but
this
was different. This horror show was
every second of every day and, sooner or later, their luck would run out.

“It’s not just
luck,” she said, reading his mind and taking his hand. “And I need to know that
you’re all in because that’s the only way we’re going to beat this thing, and
we
can
beat it. But I have to hear
you say it.”

He sharpened his
gaze, Dan flittering through his weary mind. This wasn’t the first time someone
had this talk with him and, suddenly, he felt ashamed by the developing pattern
in his behavior. Wendy was right. It was time to piss or get off the pot. As
ridiculous as it sounded, if something was keeping them alive, he owed it to
these people to take advantage of it and put up a fight. At this point, the
only thing he had left to lose was his life, which wasn’t worth two-shits.
Pulling his hand from hers, Paul wiped sweat from his brow and exhaled into the
wind. “I’m in.”

A faint smile
crept back into the lines of her mouth. The horses whinnied and Curtis yelled
something before more glass broke upstairs.

Wendy leaned back
and spread her palms. “So do you want to go surfing or what?”

Tipping his head
down, he peered at her over the top of his shades. “Not a chance.”

☠

Paul popped back
up and pounded the water with his fists. “Sonofabitch!”

Wendy laughed out
loud, straddling a surfboard with her legs dangling in the water. “You almost
had that one!” Her smile morphed into an all business look as another wave slowly
built behind her. Sliding to her stomach and paddling with it, she sprang to
her feet when the water crested and rode the curl with her arms out and knees
bent. A high-pitched cry shot from her as she zipped past Paul, spraying him
with a quick turn of the board. He shook his head and watched her jump back into
the water, grumbling beneath his breath. When she paddled back out, an
unmistakable glow lit up her face.

“How do you do
that?” he asked, straddling his board.

Her smile was
unbreakable. “Beginners luck!”

“Okay, I think I’m
done. This water is freezing and kicking my ass.” His thin gaze drifted back to
the house. “We should go check on Troy.”

“Oh come on,” she
said, grabbing his hand and checking his watch. “You said a half hour.”

His eyes slid to
the handguns lying on some brightly colored beach towels in the sand before
sweeping back to the house where a gloomy outcome lingered like the smell of
burnt toast. “I want to make sure everything is okay.”

“He was fine when
we left.” Her lips pressed into a disappointed line. “Just one more. Pleeeease?”

He watched her bob
on the surface with the sunlight sparkling in her eyes. “One more and that’s
it,” he said, sliding to his stomach.

Shedding an impish
grin, she paddled alongside him. “Isn’t this fun?”

“Yeah, until a
riptide pulls us out to sea.”

“Paul Hessler, you
say the sweetest things.”

He smiled at her
and a high-pitched shriek went off in the distance, drawing his gaze to the shoreline.
“Oh shit!” Clumsily turning in the water, Paul paddled hard for the beach where
two people were running like hell toward the beach towels and guns. “Company!”
he cried, trying to catch a wave back to shore that rolled under him and
carried on alone. He paddled faster, water getting in his eyes and blurring the
sprinting bodies into blurry dots zipping across the sand. It was a race to the
guns, one that would undoubtedly come down to the wire.

Wendy blazed past on
her surfboard, crouching low with a determined look on her face. But it was too
late. She stopped and screamed when a tall man in jeans and a button down
rushed into the water after her. He had to be at least 6’4” and over three
hundred pounds with blood running from his nose and mouth in gooey globs. There
was a patch of hair missing from the left side of his head and his female
sidekick wasn’t in much better shape. Nose bitten off, one eye dangled from a
bloody socket that reminded Paul of Dan. Wendy dodged the tall man’s scraping claws
with a shriek and jumped off the board, swimming back to Paul. The man snatched
the surfboard and yanked, towing her back to him by the ankle strap. She
screamed just before dipping beneath the water.

Shaking from a
spike of adrenaline, Paul undid the Velcro strap around his ankle and set the
board free before swimming to her rescue. Wendy popped up, clear of the strap
she must’ve undone while beneath the surface. Paul towed her into deeper water
as the man pulled the board from the foam and stared at the empty leash. Rage
tightened the lines in his rotted face as he realized Wendy had gotten away.
Tossing the swallow tail onto the sand behind him, he howled, stirring the
woman next to him into a frenzy. She paced back and forth in the shallows as the
man waded in deeper.

Treading water
with Wendy in his arms, Paul watched the surface rise above the man’s jeans,
stomach shriveling along with his privates.

“He’s coming in,”
Wendy panted.

The thing stopped
when the ocean found his shoulders.

“It’s okay. He won’t
come in any further. They can’t swim.” The fiend snarled and cursed at them in
a foreign tongue that Paul understood all too well.

“What do we do?”
Wendy spit some water out, clinging to Paul for dear life.

The portly woman
came closer, stopping when the water rose above her thick knees, wetting the
end of her shredded skirt. Matted hair swung across her face, doing little to
hide her twisted sneer. Sunlight glimmered off the silver wedding bands digging
into their swollen fingers, giving Paul the eerie feeling they’d been married
and, for whatever reason, not even death could keep them apart.