Valley of Death & Zombies Page 26

  Dudley watched for crazy people as he ran to the girl so he never saw Shoemaker shoot him, but he damn well heard and felt it. Hundreds of shotgun pellets hit him along his back and he fell, face first, to the dusty ground. He was dazed sprawled in the dust, and through his confusion he knew one thing for certain. Shoemaker shot me! Motherfucker! Then he shuddered and felt his consciousness drifting away. He stared at the ants a few inches from his face then closed his eyes.

  Maria was crying and shaking under the rear of the truck when Shoemaker arrived.

  “It's okay. My name's Jerry, just relax.” he said, wiping his face as he looked toward the smoke rising from the burning cars and bus.

  “My ankle, I think it's broken.” she whispered, as he looked down.

  “I think you might be right. Just stay calm.” Shoemaker said, as he slung the shotgun over his shoulder and picked her up. He carried her to the truck cab and gently got her in the passenger seat.

  “They're heading this way.” she gasped, looking behind him. He closed the passenger door, turned, and readied the shotgun.

  “Yeah, I hear them. Start the truck!” He shouted. Damn they're close. Where did they all come from? he thought, as he saw the closest were Crawford and Minarges. They were screaming and moving fast. He started firing.

  Inside the truck, Maria saw the keys weren’t in the ignition. As Shoemaker started firing she flipped down the visors and then opened the glove box, in search of the keys. She found a pack of cigarettes, a roll of antacids, dozens of receipts, some coins, and dozens of small plastic packets of hot sauce, but no keys.

  Josey heard the shotgun blast when Shoemaker shot Dudley, as did the group that had been wandering around the burning cars. A scream rose out of the crowd, followed by others, as they ran after the man toting a shotgun. Several of them joined in a chorus of Hellish screams while running. They're going to beat me to the truck. Damn knee, he thought, as he half limped half ran to the truck. Trying to move faster, he reached down and patted his pants pocket. He felt the familiar bulge of the key ring inside.

  Shoemaker blasted the charging group, but there were just too damn many. Plus he hadn't considered Minarges and Crawford's bullet proof vests. After they both got back up he aimed for their legs, and they fell to the ground only yards away. Backing around to the front of the truck still firing he felt something grab onto his boot. He looked down and saw a man missing one leg entirely, the other one a mangled bloody mess. Clutching his boot the man pulled closer and bit his lower leg. Pointing the shotgun at the man's head he pulled the trigger. It made an anti climatic click noise. The shotgun was empty.

  He reached for his pistol when a shadow fell on him. It was a big man and the sun was behind him making his face impossible to see. He was still pulling his gun when there was a swishing sound and a long shiny blade of metal flashed by him and into the head of the man on the ground.

  “You best aim behind you.” Josey said, limping over to stand beside him.

  Shoemaker stared at the big man wearing a brown leather coat with a bright red swastika armband on the sleeve.

  “Name's Josey!” he yelled, as he stabbed the closest approaching man in the head.

  “Jerry! Nice coat, you got a key for this truck?!” he yelled back, as he took aim and started firing at the approaching hoard of undead. The pistol fired fast, but the people crawling closer on the ground were only seconds away.

  “Hell yes! Get your ass in!” Josey shouted and jumped into the truck cab as Shoemaker backed around to the passenger side door. A bloody, wild eyed Sazera ran through the crowd and tackled Shoemaker while he was trying to get in the truck. Josey climbed in and saw that the glove box had been opened and ransacked.

  “I was looking for a key.” Maria said, looking at Josey’s sword uneasily.

  Josey slammed the key in the ignition and turned it savagely. The engine coughed as he pumped the gas pedal, then roared to life and he yelled “Jerry! Get in!” at the man he'd recently met.

  Shoemaker wanted to get in. He really did. But Sazera had slammed him against the door and now others were tearing at him. He felt a sharp pain and saw Crawford had managed to crawl over and was biting at his leg. Shoemaker continued to fire his gun as his screams joined Sazera's and the others, while they dragged him to the ground. He kept pulling the trigger even after the gun was empty as he felt more teeth tearing into his flesh.

  Maria clutched the knife, she had found in the Remlap attic, and scooted against Josey as she screamed watching Shoemaker fall.

  Josey put the truck in first gear and stomped on the gas pedal. The truck moved a few inches then stopped. “The damn hose is still hooked up.” he muttered, pushing the gas pedal and releasing the clutch. It will rip loose. It has got to rip loose. Rip Damn it, rip! He thought, frantically. He pushed the accelerator harder and let the clutch out all the way. The back tires of the truck spun in place sending up a great cloud of dust and the smell of burning rubber filled the air.

  Maria screamed while Josey kept his foot stamped down on the gas pedal as the crowd began to beat on the truck. A brick hit the windshield. The impact made a crack appear running across it's length. Several arms reached in through the missing passenger side window and the truck cab was being rocked, side to side by the horde. Maria scooted as close to Josey as she could without climbing into his lap. It won't rip. We’re dead, he thought as he kept his foot on the gas.

  Dudley smelled burning rubber, heard an engine roaring and a lot of screaming. It was all combining to give him a colossal headache. Opening his eyes, he saw the truck's rear tires spinning and yells coming from inside the cab. He tried to stand but felt too tired, plus his right leg wouldn't move. Closing his eyes, he thought Damn, can't they let me die in peace and quiet? The combined noises were like brilliant flashes of painful light going off in his head. He opened his eyes, spotted a long hose attached to the back of the truck and saw it was responsible for the spinning tires.

  Like an anchor on a boat. he thought dimly. Dudley pulled his gun, almost dropped it, heard a woman screaming in the truck and took aim. He fired five times, before feeling himself again losing consciousness. The first two bullets missed the hose entirely. The last three hit it, shredding the material. Dudley heard the truck moving away as he collapsed face first in the dust.

  The truck, finally free, sped across the dusty park. A few zombies managed to hang on to the truck for awhile before they fell off. Josey found second gear and turned for the exit. The police car had ruptured the fuel tanks under the bus when it hit. The inferno of burning cars filled the road out and had spread to the closest trailer. He considered ramming the cars and hoping for the best when the wrecked van flipped into the air as its gas tank exploded. The exit was hopelessly clogged by fire and Josey knew it. Inside the van gallons of paint thinner added to the bonfire and Josey pounded the steering wheel in frustration.

  “What the fuck now?” Josey asked, as they stared at the exit.

  “Who are you?” Maria asked.

  “I’m Josey, and we need to find another way out of this valley. Do you know of another road?” he asked, looking around, as he drove around the park’s main road.

  Maria shook her head and winced feeling exhausted.

  “I've lived here two years and the only way to drive out is that road. Besides you wouldn't really leave the others would you? There's a boy and his grandfather who live over there.” She said, pointing.

  Josey looked uncomfortable as he said “Of course not. And, yes I've met the colonel and Billy but I've been thinking a lot about how this whole fucked up situation reminds me of some movies and even a video game I used to play. Where the dead would start taking over the world and the government solution is always the same. Drop a nuclear bomb or just shoot everyone whether they were infected or not.”

  “This is real life, not some dumb video game. The government wouldn’t do that.” She looked confused for a second before asking, “Would they?”

  “I ha
ve no idea but I do know I don't want to take that chance. Do you?”

  “No, but what do we do now?”

  “Where does that road, over there, go?” he asked, driving around trying to think what to do next.

  “It goes a mile or two to the trash dump and before you ask there’s no way to drive out down there, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Josey looked at her, and said “I need to think of a plan. And I can't think straight with all these nuts running around screaming.” Swerving around a trailer, he drove up the road to the trash dump. The road was bumpy and climbed slowly. As they went down the other side of the small hill, he saw a big ditch about three quarters of a mile ahead and a big circular turnaround area at the end of the road.

  “See,” Maria said, sounding more than a little annoyed. “I told you the road doesn't go anywhere. Now what do we do?”

  Josey looked intently for any people, drove to the end of the road, and turned the truck around facing back toward the park. He turned off the engine and laid his forehead against the steering wheel. Still resting, he unrolled his window and sighed as a slight breeze blew through the truck cab.

  “Do you hear that?” He asked, with his forehead still against the wheel.

  “I don't hear anything.” She said, looking outside nervously.

  “I know. It's nice isn't it? Could you reach down there, by your foot, and grab my lunchbox?” He asked, slowly leaning back in the seat.

  “You want to eat? Now? Are you serious?” She asked, without moving to get the lunchbox. Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed as she stared at him.

  “Don't worry. I'll share.” He held out one of the two bottles of water, he'd pulled out of a coat pocket, and smiled at her. His eyes looked bloodshot and his hand holding the bottle out to her shook slightly, but his smile was infectious. Maria found herself, inexplicably, liking this strange man. She took the water bottle and picked up his dented lunch box from the floor of the truck.

  He opened it and handed her an apple. “I'll split the brownie with you for dessert.” He said, taking his sandwich out of the plastic bag and biting half of it. Closing his eyes he chewed the day and a half old baloney, cheese and peanut butter sandwich. It tasted like the best thing he'd eaten in a long time. He heard Maria bite into the apple and opened one eye. Still slowly chewing he thought about her. I wonder if she's got a boyfriend. What am I thinking? She's beautiful of course she's got a boyfriend.

  The apple was almost hot from being in the truck all day and it wasn't red like she usually ate, but it was perhaps the best tasting apple she'd ever eaten. Maria ate slowly and tried not to worry. She also tried to keep from sneaking peeks at the big man sitting next to her. He's so big. He looks like a wrestler or a football player. I wonder why he drives this truck. She thought, while trying to see if he had a wedding ring on his finger.

  They ate the rest of the lunch in silence. Both lost in their own thoughts as they stared down the road to the trailer park. They saw the smoke rising into the flawlessly dark blue sky. A breeze came from the west cooling them as they rested and the same wind dissipated the smoke before it rose very high in the sky.

  After he split the chocolate brownie with walnuts and gave her half he finally broke the silence.

  “You keep your eyes on the road. If you see any of them coming honk. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.” He said, shoving his half of the brownie in his mouth.

  “What are you going to do? Where are you going?” She asked, grabbing his arm nervously.

  He felt an odd thrill run up his arm at her touch, stopped, sipped some water and swallowed his dessert. He wasn't sure but thought he got goose bumps when she touched his arm. Josey tried to speak, coughed and tried again.

  “I think I have an idea. If I can find something to cover the windows. Just honk if you see any of them coming. I won't be long, I promise.” He said, wishing she'd grab his arm again. Josey climbed out of the truck, held the sword and limped away in search of anything useful.

  A black scorpion about four inches long, was the first thing the man saw as he opened his eyes. The second thing was a vulture, perched on a speed limit sign, looking down at him with more than a casual interest. He was laying on the edge of a steep road and experimentally rolled off his stomach checking to see if all his parts were still intact. The vulture took flight with a disgusted squawking noise.

  Dizziness and nausea made crawling difficult, but after a couple of minutes he made it to the speed limit sign and used the pole to pull himself to a standing position. His face was covered in scrapes and scratches and his nose continued to bleed, but not as much as it did when he slammed head first into the dusty road earlier. At first he thought it was just a part of his colossal headache, then he slowly realized it was an actual police car siren he was hearing somewhere in the distance.

  He peered around in confusion wishing he had a pair of sunglasses. Looking down the road into the valley below, he spotted a squad car being chased by a group of people as it slammed into the back of a bus. His eyes widened as a few seconds later the back of the bus exploded into a fireball that climbed into the sky. What is going on? he wondered, leaning back against the pole. The smoke and screams drifting up from the valley below convinced him that going down there was probably a bad idea. Turning around he started slowly walking up the road.

  After nearly half an hour he reached the summit of the steep road, and saw far off in the distance a little building. It seemed a million miles away as he trudged forward feeling near exhaustion. A lone tree was not very far off the side of the road. He stared at it's inviting shade for a few seconds before staggering toward it.

  Sitting with his back against the tree the man in black pants, white shirt, and black tie pulled a wallet out of his pocket and looked inside. He saw a driver’s license and stared at the picture for a few minutes. The man in the photograph seemed unfamiliar. He read the name printed on the card. He put the wallet back in his pocket and stared at the empty barren landscape stretching away. The shade was welcome, but he wished he had some water as he closed his eyes and rested. Who’s Jeremiah Whitfield? He wondered.

  CHAPTER 16

  The water in the circular fountain with a statue of a Saguaro cactus in the center splashed as a dirty unshaven man smelling of sweat, body odor, whiskey, cigarettes, and farts soaked his feet in the cool water. A lady pushing a baby stroller nearby purposely avoided looking at the man as she hurried by.

  “You got some spare change? Just need some money to get some soup or a taco.” He asked, as she walked away.

  “Stuck up bitch. Don't you act like I'm not standing here. Fine! Take your little son of a bitch and go whore yourself out again!” He yelled after her. Reaching into the bottom of the fountain he felt around and retrieved four pennies, a dime, and a nickel. He shoved the coins in his pocket and reached down again.

  “Hey you there! Get out of the fountain.” Deputy Bo Autry said, as he quickly walked down the steps in front of the police station. He put on his toughest meanest look as he marched down the sidewalk while holding his night stick at his side. “You heard me. Get out of there and I mean now.”

  “It's a public fountain. And I can soak my feet if I wanna.” the dirty man said, wearing cutoff blue jeans and a T-shirt which had the words World's Best Fuck printed on it.

  “I'm not saying it again. This is your last warning. Get out of there right now.” Bo said, stopping a few feet away, still holding the night stick at his side.

  The man swore under his breath, climbed out of the fountain and slipped into a pair of filthy purple sandals. “Thought you guys were here to protect and serve. Why don't you serve me up a nice ice cold glass of beer?”

  “If I see you in there again you will be arrested for polluting a public fountain and for being a sorry excuse for a human being. What’s your name Bubba?”

  “Name is Mark, and you won't see me again. I'm headin south to a place where it’s more friendly, maybe Cuba.” He
said, picking up a ratty neon blue backpack. Bo watched as he settled his backpack, turned and walked away.

  “Just keep walking and I mean it. If I see you in there again you'll be extremely sorry.”

  “Blah blah blah!” the man shouted, over his shoulder, as he walked away.

  “Good job Bo. I might ask the mayor to give you a medal, maybe even a parade for heroism, if I can swing it.” A chuckling voice said, from behind him.

  Bo turned and looked at Captain Lopez who was walking toward the fountain, smoking a cigarette. He dug the toe of his shoe into the pavement acting bashful.

  “Aw shucks, twern't nuthin. Why just this morning, I ran off a troop of scouts selling cookies without a permit. What do I get for that?”

  “A cookie? Listen, if you're done running my ex-wife’s boyfriend off I need you to take a run out to that trailer park, and take Dunn with you. I've been waiting for Wyatt to report in, but haven't heard anything yet. He's overdue. So get on out there and give me a call back when you catch up with them.” Lopez said, looking at the water splashing in the fountain.

  “Trouble?” Bo asked, seriously.

  Lopez laughed, “I doubt it. I've known Brett for almost twenty five years and never seen him not be able to take care of business. But his wife's been calling and annoying the piss out of me. I told her I'd send one of my best men out to check up on him. And lucky you, you get to ride along with him. Maybe you can learn a thing or two.”

  “So, Dunn is one of your best men?” Bo asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you hear that one of your 'best men' fucked up a toilet on purpose this morning? It's a good thing we don't arm the janitors or Earl would have shot him.”