Dying Days 3 (10 page)

He saw the living person, slumped down and trying to hide while moving toward him, and he smiled. Even from this distance, he could tell it was a younger person, and might even be a chick. What was she doing out here, all alone? Or was she?

Jeff casually grabbed his weapons off the Harley and headed across the parking lot to the entrance to the wooden path, which would obviously lead him to the beach. He walked fast but didn't act like he was in a hurry or like he had any care in the world.

Once he got around the bend and a dune naturally blocked his view, he hopped over the rail and slid down the dune, crawling across the hot sand and through the thick scrub until he had his bike in sight.

"Hot damn," he whispered. It was a female, although, she didn't look that old. Maybe thirteen. Still… how many females were left in this world? She was clearly smart and a survivor by the way she moved past the zombies on the bridge without them noticing her, intent on their slow walk to nowhere.

She'd obviously heard his approach and seen his bike, but he knew by her movement she didn't know she was being watched. Perfect.

This one female would make the entire trip (shit, the entire last week) worth getting up in the morning. Jeff still didn't see anyone else around. It could always be a trap, sending out the nubile female and then, when horny dudes pop up, they get their heads blown off.

Jeff crawled as close to the parking lot as he dared, coming up on top of a dune, for a better view. It had taken him several minutes and, by the time he got into position, the girl was already creeping into the parking lot, eyes scanning.

She moved to the Harley but didn't touch it, looking around. She was holding a 9mm and pointing it at the ground but ready to lift and fire if need be. Someone had taught her the basics of shooting, and, if she'd survived this long, she had probably used it on occasion.

When the girl started walking the same path he'd gone, up the wooden walkway toward the beach, he needed to make a decision. He could wait until she got to the beach, before running to the bike, starting it up, and high-tailing it south, or he could attempt to unarm her and capture her.

Jeff really didn't have an actual decision to make. How many more females was he going to find in the world, especially alone? He began crawling back to the wooden path, moving to the far end and hoping to cut her off when he got there.

His goal was getting underneath the steps leading down to the beach, and then tripping her if she took a step down. If it didn't work, he would revert to Plan B. He didn't yet have a Plan B, but something would come up.

The risk far outweighed the reward on this one.

Jeff began moving across the hot sand, his hands and face burning with the heat.

Chapter Sixteen

Darlene stopped and pointed at the ramp leading into Java Joint. "These footprints aren't old. Bare feet. Someone with a decent sized foot, I'd say."

"This is where Chris said he saw someone," Eric said. "It makes sense."

"Where is Chris?" John asked.

"He feigned sickness and decided not to help. I'm sure he was really busy hiding in his stilt house. I'm sorry, but there is something really wrong with that guy," Abby said. "I'm kinda glad he isn't with us, because I don't like the way he looks at anyone, especially Darlene."

"What do you mean?" John said with an edge clearly in his words.

"Relax, Lover Boy… he's creepy to all the women, not just Precious," Eric said as he pointed at Darlene.

"You do know I am very close to breaking your fucking finger, right?" Darlene asked.

"I have no doubt you can hurt me, honey, but it brings me great pleasure to see John-John squirm around you."

"Is it going to be worth me hurting you, old man?"

Eric put a hand on his chin and stroked his beard. "You know, I think it might just be worth it. I'm sure one day soon we'll all look back on your awkward phase of this relationship and have a laugh about it. Until then… I'm going to bust chicken-shit's guts until he finally asks you to the prom."

The four of them stood, uncomfortably, in the direct sunlight before Darlene threw up her hands, walked over to John, and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him close to her. She kissed him full on the lips. He struggled at first but then gave in and relaxed, kissing her back.

Darlene pushed him away and smiled at Eric. "Happy?"

"I was hoping to see some tongue," Eric said with a grin.

"Damn perv. If there is someone inside, they've had quite the show. Mind if we go inside and kill something now?" Darlene asked.

"After you, ma'am." Eric winked at John. "You're welcome."

John was blushing and put his head down as they started moving up the ramp, Darlene in the lead, followed by Eric and then Abby. John took up the rear, not even bothering to watch behind them.

Inside, Darlene aimed her Desert Eagle at every shadow, mentally checking them off the list of things to shoot. The inside of Java Joint was clearly being used, or had, at least, been searched recently. She pointed to the high counter as she moved to her far right, lining up with the two open bathroom doors and trying to get a better view into the back.

John swept to his left, stepping up onto a rotting booth chair, one foot on the rickety table, and peering over the counter with an arrow notched.

Eric, down to a crouch with rifle in hand, slid around the counter. "Clear," he said quietly.

Abby stepped past him, gun drawn, and angled to see the kitchen. "Clear."

"Someone is living here," Darlene said. There was a pile of seat cushions, blankets, pillows and clothing on the floor. The kitchen smelled funky.

"There's quite a bit of dried blood on everything," John said.

"Maybe it's the way they found it," Abby said.

"To me, it looks like they were all bloody and slept on the pile." Eric knelt down and pushed the blankets with the barrel of his rifle. "I guess beggars can't be choosers."

"They might not come back," Darlene said as she looked around. "There's no food."

John nodded. "I don’t see any discarded food, either. No empty cans, boxes, even crumbs. None of the pots and pans look like they've been used in forever, and the same with the few utensils left. They might be sleeping here, but they are dining at another establishment."

"Are we going to do a building search? Even though Flagler Beach is only two or three blocks deep between the Atlantic and the Intracoastal Waterway, there are way too many houses and businesses to search." Eric leaned against the dirty kitchen sink. "Even if we separate into two groups, we'd be hard pressed to cover much ground before it starts getting dark and we have to return."

"The good thing is the lack of zombies here," Darlene said. "I'm not getting it. But imagine doing a door to door search and having to fight your way down each street. What choice do we have? It's not like we have something coming up in our lives. We search as many streets as we can today, and we keep coming back until we're sure it's clear, or we find out the person or persons responsible for what's going on."

"I still need to show you the piles of bodies on the beach, too. We can probably take a buggy down the sand," Eric said. "Unless you think we need to start our search. We might need to start back around the bend at the corner, too. Coming into Flagler."

Darlene looked at her three companions. They all looked to her for leadership, and she was more and more comfortable with it as time passed. She looked to John for him to take the lead, but lately he'd been deferring to her more and more. She didn't know why, and was afraid to ask him.

She hoped his feelings for her weren't interfering with his decision making. It seemed really high school if he was doing it to get in her pants, but she didn't understand what the change was. The dynamic between them and everyone else at the stilt houses had subtly changed. Maybe it was as simple as losing more and more allies, the food and supplies getting harder and harder to find, and a sense of desperation hovering above them.

Why were they fighting to survive? What was the payoff? There wasn't going to be a safer world in their future. The likelihood they'd see a convoy of military trucks, laden with hamburgers and bandages, was a million to one. There were no safe zones and no cities getting put back together without the threat of zombies.

Darlene looked at John. She loved this man. If it wasn't for the world crumbling around them, she'd still be far away from Florida on the East Coast, wasting her life in a mall, selling mascara to bitchy old women and their entitled daughters. John would be in another mall, a world apart in the Panhandle, chasing kids on skateboards.

The thought of him doing it made her smile.

"What's so funny?" John asked.

"She's thinking of you naked," Eric said.

"You are so rude for an old man," Abby said.

"I can't help it. I turned my filter off years ago. There's just not enough time to hold in what you really want to say." Eric stretched his arms and grinned. "Besides, it's all true. I am the voice of reason."

"No wonder the world is in this shape," Darlene said. "Let's go check on some bodies."

As they moved down the front ramp of the business, Eric lifted his rifle and put an eye to the sight. "We have an actual zombie in the surf," he said with a laugh. "Watch this shot."

They all stood silent, waiting for him to pull the trigger.

"Well? Chicken? Want to bet on it? I need to win my weapon back from you," John said.

Eric slowly lowered the rifle. "She saw me… and moved."

"Huh?" Abby asked.

Eric turned to them, his face pale. "It was definitely a zombie. Her arms and nose were missing. She looked right at me, her eyes went wide, and she slipped under the water. Holy shit."

Chapter Seventeen

Jeff smiled, casually leaning on the railing and admiring a seagull gliding on the wind. He kept his body language easy, not making any sudden moves. He didn’t want to freak the girl out. Brianna.

"Where are you going after this?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Eventually, I need to get home. You know you can't be caught out here in the dark. Besides, my family will be worried."

"I can imagine."

"Where is your family?" Jeff looked south, past the Matanzas Inlet. "Do you live here?"

"Yes," she said but hesitated. "I don’t have family, but there are people who take care of me."

"That's nice." He didn't want to ask her how many or anything to spook her. It was better to act disinterested. He wasn't worried about luring her away or kidnapping her. Despite the 9mm she held in her hand, she wasn't going to be a problem. "Too bad I live all the way in Daytona Beach. My son would love to meet someone his age, and my daughter."

He saw her eyes light up. He had her.

"My son is seventeen and my daughter is thirteen. They are always bored, since they have no one their ages to talk to. Without the internet, they are driving me crazy."

They both laughed.

"Luckily, we have power, and the videogames and movies. They'll never be able to watch every show or play every game, but they look like they are going to try."

"Do you have books?"

"Of course. We took over two local libraries and the Books A Million, so there are thousands of books for them to read. You like to read?"

"Yes, very much. I only have a handful of books, and I've read them all twice."

"Too bad." Jeff looked at his watch. "It was nice to meet you, Brianna."

"My friends call me Bri."

"Can I call you Bri?"

She smiled. "Yes. I'd love to meet your children. What are their names?"

Jeff thought fast. "My son is also Jeff, I call him J.R. My daughter is Marrah. I can't wait to let them know I met you."

"Can they come here?"

Jeff shook his head and frowned. "I don’t let them out of the safety of our home. There aren't zombies where we live, and they have free run of the place. I'd hate to bring them up here and get them into a dangerous situation. I'm sure you understand."

She looked disappointed.