Zombie D.O.A. (38 page)

“Beauty of this place is that you won’t find it on any map,” Nate said. “It’s been pretty much abandoned since the forties. There used to be a silver mine up in the hills but that was played out even before the town was deserted.”

“How’d you find this place?”

“Cal and I used to come down from Amarillo to climb in those hills, before all of this happened, so we knew the town was here. After, we figured this place was far enough off the beaten track to be relatively safe, so we made our way down.”

“And the others?”

“We rescued some of them from one of the Dead Men’s slave caravans. Some of them just sort of drifted in. And then one day Pastor Ray walked into town leading his flock across the plains like Moses leading the Israelites out of bondage.”

“How does he feel about living in a town called Pagan?”

“He brings it up every council meeting, Wants to change it to Bethlehem. I veto him every time.”

“What about Yonder?”

“What about her?” Nate said defensively.

“You and her an item?”

“She’s a good woman,” Nate said and I could see he was blushing.

“Ta da,” Yonder said from behind us, “May I present…What’s your dog’s name, Chris?”

“He ain’t really my dog, but wow!”

Yonder had really given the dog the full treatment. His coat was practically glowing and he had a glint in his eye and what looked like a smile on his fox-like face.

“He has to have a name,” Yonder insisted.

“How about Foxy?” Nate suggested. “His face looks kinda like a fox.”

“Come on Nate, Foxy sounds like a Pomeranian. This here’s an Akita.”

“Giuseppe,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“Giuseppe, after the place where we met.”

“Giuseppe it is then.”

Giuseppe looked at me and cocked his head, as though he approved.

After I left Yonder’s, I took a stroll to the town hall where bunk beds had been set up for the new arrivals. Nate had stayed behind on some or other excuse, but the newly named Giuseppe trotted by my side, looking very proud of his new appearance.

The building sat slap bang in the center of town on A Street and, other than the church and Pastor Ray’s house, it was the best maintained structure in town.

I found Kelly bunking with the other kids in the main hall and he gave me a look that was part relief, part reproach.

“You settling in all right?” I asked.

“I guess.”

“Making any new friends.”

“No, not really.”

“Listen Kelly, I just wanted to tell you, I’m going to be heading out tomorrow.”

He was quiet for a while and then he said, “Take me with you.”

“I can’t kid. Not where I’m going. It’s too dangerous.”

“But I’ll be no trouble at all.”

“I can’t, Kelly. I just can’t.”

“Please,” he said, and looked at me with tears welling in his eyes.

“I just can’t, kid.”

“Will you stop calling me kid. I’m seventeen you know, eighteen in a couple of weeks.”

“Really, I figured you to be younger than that.”

“Yeah, well there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 

An idea suddenly occurred to me. “Tell you what, how about I leave Giuseppe here to keep you company?”

“I don’t want your dog,” Kelly said and turned away.

“I’ll stop by and say goodbye, okay?”

“Don’t bother,” he said without looking around.

“I will anyway,” I said and got up.

As I did, Nate entered the room, looked left and right, spotted me and came running over. “Chris,” he said. “We got trouble.”

“What’s up?”

“The Dead Men,” he said breathlessly.

I followed Nate out into the street, but even before we got there I could hear the roar of motorcycles engines being gunned amidst whoops and cheers and curses.

I took a peek toward the end of the road and could see the church, illuminated by a dozen or so torches set in a ring around it. Out front I could see three bikers racing their Harleys in a tight circle around a man crouching on the ground - Pastor Ray.

“Told that dipshit preacher a thousand times about lighting up them flares,” Nate spat.

“You got that rifle of yours handy?” I asked him.

“Back at Yonder’s.”

“I need you to get it. Then get yourself down to that double storey at the end of the row. What’s that, the pastor’s place?”

“Yeah, that Ray’s house.”

“Get into the upstairs window where you can line up a shot on those three bikers. You any good with that thing?”

“Not without my eyeglasses, and I lost those some time ago. I might hit a barn door at twenty paces, but then again, I might not.”

“No matter. The important thing is, you get up there and don’t show yourself till I say, you got that?

“No problem.”

“Can you get there without them seeing you?

“Yeah, if I skirt round through the brush.”

“Do that then, two minutes?

“Five.”

“Okay, go.”

While Nate slipped off into the darkness, I did a quick check on the shotgun I was carrying. Both barrels were loaded, but I didn’t have the bandolier with me, which meant I only had two shots. There were three bikers up there and I had to hope that if push came to shove Nate was a better shot than he let on.

I took a deep breath and rounded the corner. I wasn’t interested in concealment so I walked straight down the middle of the road, with Giuseppe trotting beside me.

The bikers were still circling Pastor Ray and I could see the preacher, not praying as I’d originally thought, but cowering on the ground. Behind him the church door stood slightly ajar.

    One of the men had a long barreled revolver in his hand and fired a shot into the air, accompanying it with a rebel yell.

I was thirty yards away when one of the bikers spotted me. He squinted into the darkness as though spying an apparition. Then he brought his bike to a halt and alerted the other two, who also stopped, dismounted and rested their machines on side stands. The biker with the six-shooter covered Pastor Ray, while the other two stood to the front and unslung the rifles they had strapped to their backs. 

“Well looky here,” one of them said. “If it ain’t John Wayne.”

“You gentleman have had your fun, so how about you mount up and move on, before someone gets hurt.”

“Only one getting hurt tonight is you, this preacher man, and maybe that mutt of yours,” the biker sneered, and spat into the dirt. He was big and burly with black hair and a thick black beard. His companion was a lanky man with stringy blond locks and a mouthful of rotten teeth, now exposed in a grin.

“Leave it be, Collins,” Pastor Ray said. “This is none of your concern. I’d rather be shot by a heathen than saved by a Catholic.”

I ignored him. “You gentlemen have one more chance,” I said. “Leave now or…”

“Or what,
Kemo sahbee
?” the big guy sneered.

“Or my friend at the window up there put’s a bullet in your head.” I heard the window slide open and silently thanked Nate for following my instructions.

  “That’s a hard shot to make,” the big man chuckled, “I bet we could kill both you and this preacher before he gets off even one round.”

“Maybe so,” I said, “But Nate there is a four time Jasper County sharp shooting champion. So make your move if you must. Just know that at least one of you dies right here.”

“Bear, I think…” the tall biker started.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bear said, then to me, “We’re looking for a feller drove a bus through one of our conveys, killed twenty three men, injured some others who ain’t gonna ever ride again, even if they live.”

“That’d be me,” I said.

For a moment, Bear looked like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, then his eyes narrowed and he said, “You die tonight, mister.”

He started to bring his rifle up and I lifted the shotgun, knowing as I did that I’d miscalculated in expecting them to back down. Then, in a blur, Giuseppe flew past me and grabbed Bear by the wrist. I heard the crunch of tooth on bone and Bear screamed and got off a burst that flew high and wide. To my right I heard a single shot and the biker covering Pastor Ray went down. The tall biker dropped his rifle and threw up his hands.

Bear was still screaming as Giuseppe now straddled him, his teeth exposed in a snarl a few inches from the biker’s nose. I walked over and knocked Bear out with the butt of the shotgun.

“Murderer!” Pastor Ray was shouting, “Murdering papist.”

“Sorry you feel that way father,” I said.

“
Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man s
hall his blood be shed,
for in the image of God made he man.
”    

  “Ray,” Nate said, joining us in the street, “Save it for Sunday.” 

We took Bear and the other biker to the Sherriff’s office and locked them in the only cell. Yonder came down and got Bear’s hand bandaged while the big man cursed and swore and threatened.

“Virgil Pratt gets to hear of this he’s gonna burn this pissant little burg to the ground, rape your women, eat your children and skin you and that fucking mutt of yours alive,” he sneered.

“That’s the second time you’ve called my dog a mutt,” I said. “Maybe next time I won’t rein him in, maybe I’ll just left him rip your throat out.”

“Bring it on,” Bear said but he sounded less confident than he had a minute ago.

After we left the lockup, Nate and I walked Yonder home, then headed back to his place.

“What we gonna do about them bikers?” Nate asked. “We let them go and we’ll have the Dead Men riding into town within the day.”

I’d thought about that one myself, but right now I just wanted some sleep. It was well past midnight and I was exhausted.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” I said to Nate as he directed me towards the spare room.

“And who’s this Virgil Pratt, he’s talking about?”

“In the morning,” I said and shut the door.   

I expected to fall asleep immediately but instead I lie awake with a hundred thoughts battling for my attention. I’d planned to walk out of here in the morning. To follow the dirt track from here to route 83 and from there to the nearest town where I could hustle up some wheels. Now I had the wheels right here, in the shape of three Harley Davidson motorcycles. True, I hadn’t ridden in years, but I was sure I’d soon get the hang of it.