Dying Days 2 (10 page)

Tosha just needed to get home, but right now she wanted to put her fuzzy head down on the bench and sleep.

The last hour was now a blur. After leaving the bar, she'd run into Bobby, still nursing a swollen lip and jaw from her boot kick. To make it up to him—and because he carried a fifth of gin—she sat under a tree with him on Hypolita Street and shared the bottle. The entire bottle. Now she was gone, since she hadn't eaten a thing all day.

Bobby was left passed out under the tree and Tosha had a new wristwatch and his shoe laces.

Mathyu stared, unmoving, but with judgment etched on her face.

"You don't know me," Tosha whined and laughed. Of course she knew her. Who else knew her like her sister? Who else knew what she was going through on a daily basis, with survival, emotions, conflicts that arose not only from the zombies but from the asshole living she had to deal with.

Two people were stumbling down the empty street. Tosha shook her head to clear it, although it didn't really help. She needed a few hours to relax, sleep, and sober up.

"Shit, that kid is still loose," she whispered. She'd be in no position to track him in the morning.

As the couple approached she saw one of them was a large man, well over six feet  tall, with long reddish hair and a few extra pounds of fat.

But Tosha was more interested in the woman with him, the redheaded whore from the bar.

She decided to fuck with them before heading home. As they got within twenty feet of her, Tosha stood and pointed her pistol. "Stop or I'll shoot."

They were both drunk, and the redhead fell against the guy before he righted her. "Seriously? You're going to rob someone?"

Tosha giggled. The gun was shaking in her hand. "Give me your pants."

The redhead took a step toward Tosha and smiled. "I saw you in the bar, but you left before we could talk."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm Kayla and this is my brother Peter."

Peter gripped his sister's arm. "We need to get back."

Kayla smiled. "Why? This might be interesting."

Tosha still held the gun. "I said I want your pants."

"How about my undies? Want them as well?" Kayla asked.

Tosha smiled. "Yes."

"Too bad. I'm not wearing any." Kayla unbuttoned her jeans. "Do you live close?"

"What about the giant mutant?" Tosha asked.

Kayla looked at her brother and laughed. "He'll wait outside while we get to know each other."

Tosha ignored her silent sister, still sitting on the bench.

Chapter Eleven

The house was silent by the time John dropped his boots on the floor and climbed into the strangely familiar bed.

How many times had he slept here? Ten? Twelve? How many others stayed here, members of western or northern outposts who came into town from time to time and traded information and supplies?

John always felt bad because so many families were gathered in the center of town, either near the monument or on the lawn of Fort Matanzas. He supposed they had a choice, and if he had a family to protect there was strength in numbers.

These houses were old and drafty, and that was before the world ended. Now, they stood in silent rows with chain-link fences and hastily-built walls on two sides. They were literally at the end of civilization.

Someone from the group had left a chunk of hard bread and a warm beer for him. He genuinely loved these people and would do anything for them. They were his family.

John took a bite and washed it down with a sip of beer. He didn't feel like drinking but beggars could never be choosers in these trying times. There was no such thing as wasting food or drink.

He thought of Darlene suddenly, sitting on the deck of her stilt house and smiling at him. There was an attraction there, between them both. She was beautiful, sexy, funny, made him think, made him question many things, like what he was holding onto at this point…

John decided he would ease up and see where this all led him. In his heart, he knew his wife was gone, but it was the hope that kept him going. It was the reason he got up in the morning, fought so hard, and did the right thing.

Or was it?

What if Darlene was the reason now? John supposed it made sense. Hell, Murph had said it over and over as well, telling him he had a real live woman in front of him and if he were younger or she was passed out, he'd hit that.

John hoped his dad was alright, but knew he was in safe hands with Darlene. Ever since she'd stumbled into his life—actually, he'd shot her with an arrow, he remembered—it had been better. He no longer had to worry about his dad being alone during these supply trips.

John finished the beer and put his head on the lumpy, familiar pillow.

In the morning, he'd round up the troops, gather their things, make some quick trades, and they’d be on their way. He didn't think he'd push it with Darlene just yet, but he'd subtly show her he was more receptive to her advances and really did feel the same as she did.

With a smile on his face, John Murphy closed his eyes and fell asleep, waiting for a bright tomorrow to come.

*   *   *   *   *

Dylan couldn't wait to see the look on Doug's face when he saw what he'd done: huge holes had been rent in the fences, and at one spot he'd pulled down a barrier of cement blocks and bricks, letting at least twenty zombies into St. Augustine.

Doug had come to him right before he'd left and told him the plan, and let him in on a secret: no one else knew it yet. Only the two of them.

Dylan was happy he was such an integral part of the team.  He moved toward the west.  His goal was now simple; to create as much havoc as possible.

He started by putting gashes in the fence every twenty feet or so by either pulling up the posts or chopping through them with his nicked machete.

The noise didn't seem to be attracting anyone in this part of town, which looked abandoned.  All the streets were empty.  The buildings stood in silent rows, empty and dark. 

What if this was all a scam, and no one but a few people lived here? Doug talked about a large force camping here with plenty of supplies, weapons and security. So far Dylan hadn't run into anyone save the redhead earlier today.

Now he started to sweat. What if he was doing something stupid? What if the town was empty, and even now Doug and the others were rounding them up and pissed at the carnage he’d unleashed?

He ran back the way he'd come. Already, zombies had found the holes and were staggering into town. These he easily avoided, using his skateboard to zoom past a cluster of them.

"Freeze."

"It's me, Dylan," he said. He recognized Rusty's voice.

Rusty and six men came into view, weapons drawn.

"How's it going?" Rusty asked.

"It's going great. I ripped open a ton of fences, and they're already through." Dylan waited for Rusty to look shocked or say something but he only nodded.

"You've done well, kid. Run up ahead and figure out where the main storage place is so we can get in and get out."

Dylan smiled. "You got it. Want me to keep letting the zombies in?"

"No. I want you to do what I just told you to do." Rusty pointed toward the main hub of the city. "I imagine it's that way. Go on and find out so we don't waste our time or get into a shootout with these idiots. We'll wait here."

Dylan ran as fast as he could, elated that he'd done well. If this didn't get him into Doug's inner circle, he didn't know what would. He was on his way to being an integral part in the master plan Doug had. Whatever that master plan was.

A zombie stopped and turned when Dylan came up, but a slap to the head with the skateboard put it down. Dylan felt invincible as he trotted into the heart of St. Augustine, a slow-moving army of undead following along behind him.

Chapter Twelve

Kayla felt bad for Peter until Tosha shut the door and gently kissed her cheek. The girl smelled of gin, sweat and sex already. Kayla was going to enjoy this.

She wondered if this was her first experience, or if Tosha was bisexual. There was no way she was gay by the way she moved and watched the men in the bar.

Kayla could tease, play the role, and get what she wanted from men. This one clearly enjoyed dick too much. She'd do her best to convert her, she thought half jokingly. She was still drunk and feeling fine.

"How old are you?" Kayla whispered as Tosha kissed her neck.

Tosha laughed and slid her tongue down to Kayla's shoulder. "How old do you want me to be?"

Kayla pulled away. "You look young."

"I'm not even thirty. You?"

"Guess."

"About the same."

Kayla kissed Tosha's lips. Almost thirty? She knew the girl was bullshitting her to get in her pants, but wasn't that the point tonight? And she knew she looked great for being in her forties.

Tosha was aggressive, which was a turn-on for Kayla. The few lesbians she'd dated over the years tended to be submissive and let Kayla control things. Not this one.

Their hands moved quickly, tearing clothing off with abandon as they kissed lips, necks and breasts.

Tosha pushed Kayla down on the bed and stood over her with nothing on but a thong. When she put her fingers in the waistband to remove her panties, Kayla shook her head.

"That's my job."

"Only if you do it with your teeth," Tosha whispered and crawled on all fours onto the bed. They kissed again, slow and passionate.

Kayla's hand found Tosha's firm ass and squeezed. Tosha responded by sliding her tongue deeper into Kayla's mouth.

They lightly touched each other's breasts at the same time and smiled.

Tosha lifted her leg. "You said you were going to take these off?"

Kayla slid underneath Tosha and bit the thong playfully.  She could smell her, and it was driving her mad. She'd never wanted another person this bad in her life, and she was going to enjoy this night.

Tosha laughed when Kayla gripped her butt cheeks and pulled her crotch to her lips. Already her desire was clearing Kayla's head, the alcohol a distant memory.

As Kayla felt Tosha squirming above her in delight she closed her eyes and prayed this would never end, and there would be many more nights of bliss like this.

Kayla even thought of staying here in St. Augustine, if that's what it would take to be with this person she'd just met but wanted to stay with so badly. She didn't think it was the booze talking, either.

Suddenly her ears were ringing and Tosha was off her, leaving her confused.

Kayla slid off the bed to find Tosha.

There was a person in the room with them, large and bleeding, sprawled motionless on the floor. Peter.

"What did you do?"

Tosha held the pistol in her hand. She was shaking. "He burst into the room! He knocked the fucking door down."

Kayla went to her brother. This can't be happening. Peter, don't leave me. The bullet had found its mark, taking off the right side of his face.

"He's been bit," Tosha said.

Kayla saw the bite marks on his arm and leg but they didn't register. "You shot my brother."

"He knocked the door down!"

Kayla had been stupid to come here, stupid to think she could find happiness, even for one night. This world was hopeless, and she'd been fooling herself for too long. She hugged her poor brother, who'd been by her side through thick and thin, who'd had her back no matter what.

And Kayla had failed him.

Tosha was firing the gun for some reason but Kayla didn't care.

All she cared about was her dead brother. She wondered how she could go on without him by her side, watching over her, defending her. She wiped tears from her eyes, but didn't remember crying. How would she tell their father this?

When the first zombie bit into her exposed shoulder she didn't flinch. The gunshots had ceased and something was pushing against her.

Kayla simply hugged her brother and closed her wet eyes as two zombies began eating her.

*   *   *   *   *

Steve was naked as he crawled into the passenger seat with a bottle of water.

"Dude, cover your junk," Mike said as he drove, driving the huge tour bus through empty streets.

"Honk the horn and wake these motherfuckers up. It's time to party with The Breeze."

"I don't think so. I'm tired and still drunk. I think I hit a mailbox back there."

"That sucks. No one is going to get their Victoria's Secret catalog now. You're a real dick." Steve laughed and drank half the water. "Want some? You need to hydrate, especially after all that liquid release, if you know what I mean."

"Where are we going?"

"To the beach. We'll park under the moonlight and in the morning I'll take a nice skinny-dip in the ocean."

"The ocean is filled with zombies."

Steve laughed. "Not every part of it. That's like saying the ocean is filled with sharks. Sure, every once in a while, if you're not careful, a shark will swim up and bite your dick off, but usually there's too much water for them to get near you."

"The difference is the zombies want to bite your dick off," Mike said.

"Definitely mine over yours. Mine's much bigger."

"Asshole." Once again Mike was wondering what he was doing with this guy, being his personal chauffer and his lackey. His bitch.

Mike pulled the tour bus over to the side of the main road and put it in park.

"What's up?" Steve looked out. "This isn't the beach."

Mike shut it off and pulled the keys out. "I'm done driving."

"What? The beach has to be close. Take us a couple more blocks and we'll be there." Steve said with a smile.

"Stick a fork in me, I'm done." Mike tossed Steve the keys.

"What am I supposed to do with these?"

"Uh, how about you show off those racing skills and drive it yourself?"

Steve stopped smiling. "I can't drive this."

"Why not?"

"My license is suspended. Drunk driving."

"Are you shitting me? Do you think you'll get pulled over?"

"No." Steve tried to hand the keys back. "I've never driven this thing before."

"When I met you, weren't you driving?"

Steve shook his head. "My regular driver skipped out on me to be with his damn family. Left me on the side of the road near that Cracker Barrel. What a jerk. I hope him and my sister are long gone."

Mike laughed. "That's why, when I met you, you were sitting in the passenger seat drinking a beer. You were afraid to get pulled over. You weren't happy to see me, one of your biggest fans. You were happy to see anyone with a fucking license. All this talk about us sticking together, out on the open road, finding our way, it was all bullshit. It was all about you. All about what the next sucker can do for you. I'm done being that sucker."

"Relax. We're both tired and drunk. We need to get to the beach, park and sleep for ten hours. Then we can talk this out, buddy."

"I'm done talking."

"I'm sorry about your small dick, I mean talking about it," Steve said.

"Fuck you."

"Come on, I'm just playing with you. Take a joke, man. Lighten up."

Mike was done with joking and done taking orders. Without another word he climbed out and slammed the door behind him.

He'd walk back to the refugee camp and see if he could share a tent with one of the nice people there that he'd cooked hot dogs for all day while Steve 'The Breeze' Brack told his stories about racing all over the world and all the famous celebrities he'd met and the ones he'd slept with, partied with, gambled with, and drank under the table.

"Mike Ross is nobody's patsy," he said aloud and laughed. "Patsy. That's a fun word to say when you're drunk."

Someone stepped out of the shadows across the street, in front of the abandoned convenience store, but Mike ignored them. It was probably someone coming back from the bar or getting off their patrol shift.

"I could do that," Mike said, thinking about the patrols. "Why can't I help out around here, instead of sitting in the Taj Mahal bus and drinking all day?"

He turned to ask the person if he had any information about guard duty but stopped. There was something wrong with the way the guy was walking, slow and jerky. "Are you alright? Drunk, too?"

When the man crossed into the thin cone of a street light, Mike nearly pissed his pants. It was a zombie, no doubt about it. How had it gotten past all the fences and the patrols?

"If I take this one down, they'll see what kind of hero I can be, and they'll let me join them." Mike looked around for something to hit the zombie with, like a board or something sharp to jab through it's face.

He took his time since he was still tipsy and the thing wasn't moving too fast.

There was a broken fence in the next lot and it was simple to yank a warped board from it. Mike hefted it in his hands like a baseball bat. He was ready.

When he turned to confront the zombie, he finally pissed his pants.

There were at least twenty of them coming slowly at him from down the street.

Mike dropped the stick and ran for dear life.

Chapter Thirteen

Darlene ran back into the room she’d awoken in, checked her Desert Eagle to make sure it was loaded, and grabbed her gear.

Russ walked in behind her and sat down. "Where are you going?"

"We need to let St. Augustine know about this."

"Right now?"

"The sooner the better. We've all been sitting around, playing house, pretending they'll fall over and die without living people to eat."

"A sound theory before my observations."

Darlene rolled her shoulder and squirmed in pain. "This is all a lie."

"No, this is life. It's just another 'fuck you' thrown into the system and nothing more. Zombies, aliens, the government, alligators in the sewers… it's all the same. We as human beings adapt, survive, and rise from the ashes of a destroyed world."

"And you believe that shit?"

Russ laughed. "Not after seeing what I just showed you. We're all royally screwed."

"All the more reason to warn the city."