Valley of Death & Zombies Page 9

  Bo wrote the address in a little black leather notepad. He patted him again and walked out into the hall. “Go ahead, talk to your mom. It’s okay. I'll be back in five minutes.” he said, closing the door.

  Alone in the interrogation room, Yugo held the phone and checked to make sure it worked. There was a good strong signal, he noted, and played with the buttons until he found the erase all dialed numbers button. He quickly dialed his mom’s cell phone, watching the observation room, ready to hit the erase button in case he came back in trying to trick him.

  An electronic voice announced “The number you are dialing is unavailable. To leave a message press one.”

  He hit the button and, for the next three minutes, told his mom he loved her and was sorry he got caught. And warned them, they should be careful even though he'd given the cops the address to an empty lot where he used to sell Meth. Then, he pushed the buttons to erase the number he'd dialed smiling. Dad was right, cops are morons.

  Bo walked in, and set a can of soda on the table in front of him with a straw sticking out, and retrieved his phone. “Your ride to Juvenile Hall is here. I hope everything works out for you, kid. You did the right thing.” Bo said, grinning as he walked back into the hallway.

  Lopez smiled and shook Bo's hand as they went to his office to retrieve the ‘erased’ number. Meth heads are so much fun to work with at times, he thought as they walked down the hall chuckling.

  Ten minutes later they had retrieved the number but they weren't happy.

  “It must be in an area without cell coverage or she might have it turned off.” Lopez said, as he tapped a badly chewed wooden pencil on his notepad.

  There was a knock on the door, and Captain Brett Wyatt was invited in. Bo yawned and leaned back in his chair as they discussed the ICE, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, raid scheduled for tomorrow morning. After several minutes of discussion, as Lopez looked over the map of the trailer park, he asked, “Bo, do you wanna buddy up with Wyatt, on tomorrow’s raid?”

  “Might have to speak up a bit.” Wyatt whispered.

  Lopez looked up and saw Bo had fallen asleep while sitting in his chair.

  “Well, he's had a busy last few days.” he said shrugging his shoulders. “Why don't you take that new kid, Holmes, Thomas Holmes with you? He's scheduled for duty at midnight anyway. I'll tell him he can sleep until-” he consulted the paperwork for the raid, “Six AM then you two can go out and play backup for the kids from ICE.”

  “Whoopty doo.” Wyatt said, in a tone of voice that suggested a distinct lack of excitement about the prospect.

  “It'll be a cakewalk. We've never had serious trouble with the guys living out there and frankly I think it's all a waste of time. But Keck over at Beaumont Industries has his panties in a bunch because only half of his employees showed up for work on Friday and today. Keck's an idiot. He probably did something that pissed them off, and that’s why they didn't show up. Hell, I'd bet twenty bucks they've just picked up stakes and moved on. But you know he's got friends in the capital, so when they called ICE for a raid they had an order for it by noon and you get to ride shotgun.”

  “Fucking waste of time.” Wyatt said, looking at the map of the trailer park.

  Lopez smiled and said, “True enough. I bet you guys have either got them all rounded up by noon tomorrow, or you'll find a bunch of empty trailers with no forwarding address.”

  “I'll take that bet. I'm afraid we'll be out there, all day, chasing them through the desert.” Wyatt said, grunting as he heaved himself to a standing position with his big belly hanging over his belt.

  “Well a little exercise certainly won't kill you.” Lopez said chuckling.

  The store’s parking lot was empty, except for an old green station wagon that was parked by a rusty trash dumpster. A sign on the store's roof had three foot tall red letters that spelled out COLD DRINKS. There was a large rusty ice machine out front, its door hung open, with a handwritten sign that read OUT of order! The road north was deserted as far as the eye could see.

  A Whiptail lizard, almost a foot long, was sunning itself on the pavement. It had been resting in the road for over an hour, undisturbed by any traffic in all that time. It felt a slight vibration and lazily looked down the road. From the south two dots gradually grew in size, as the mid-afternoon sun grilled the surrounding landscape. The lizard scampered into a ditch that ran along the road, watching, as the dots grew larger.

  Two sweaty young men pedaled their ten speed bicycles into the parking lot and parked them next to a bench that sat in front of the store's big glass window. It was the only open store they'd seen since they left Albuquerque, and that was twenty five miles back. They walked stiffly to the front door, passing by an overflowing trashcan being orbited by a small swarm of yellow jackets, wasps, and bees. A big thermometer shaped like a Saguaro Cactus, next to the door, indicated the temperature was 104 degrees.

  The bell rang over the door and the clerk watched two young men in white long sleeve shirts, thin black ties, black slacks, and wearing backpacks walk in. The store was lit mostly from sunlight that shined through the large glass window. There were a few missing floor tiles and a light layer of dust and sand made the floor a little slippery. They both noticed the signs in English and Spanish, threatening prosecution for shoplifting, taped to both the door and under the counter. The building smelled almost as old as it looked, yet they were happy just to be inside away from the broiling heat. The clerk, wearing an old name tag that suggested her name was Daphne, turned down the TV and looked up at them as they walked over to the counter.

  “Bathroom is behind the cooler, over there. Try not to pee on the floor. I hate cleaning up back there.” the lady behind the counter said handing a key attached by a metal chain to a rusty hubcap to the older looking man who looked about twenty five years old. He took the key and handed it to the younger man, who barely looked out of his teens. The younger one quickly walked past the cooler while the older man smiled at her.

  “Well God bless you, young lady. You are truly a caring person and I thank you with all sincerity. My name is Issac Collins and my young friend is Jeremiah Whitfield. We're traveling across the country spreading the good news of Jesus to any one with the good sense to listen.” He pulled a pamphlet out of his backpack and handed to her.

  She held it with her fingertips, suspiciously, and set it on the counter before looking back at the man. Daphne resisted saying exactly what she thought about two young fools, who would voluntarily ride around the desert on bicycles. Customers had been scarce all week and she smiled weakly at the sweaty man.

  “Is there anything I can help you boys with?” She asked, continuing to put on her most convincing fake smile.

  “When my friend, Jeremiah, gets back we might do a little shopping. Tell me-” he squinted at her dirty name tag, “Daphne, do you have a personal relationship with the Lord young lady?”

  She rolled her eyes and exercised all her will power not to spit in the pompous holy roller's smiling face. Young lady he said- she just shook her head thinking, either he needs his eyes checked or he's shoveling it really hard for the Lord. She knew all too well she was forty nine years old and weighed in at probably double the weight of these two Bible thumping creeps put together. Swallowing the spit she had worked up during his annoying question, with more than a little regret that she didn't baptize him with it, she started to speak.

  “Listen, whatever your name is, I-” She began, when he interrupted.

  “Issac Collins, ma'am.” he said, with a slight bow.

  She waved her hand dismissively, and said, “Whatever. You don't have any business in my relationship with the Lord. Whether my relationship is personal, public, professional, or even sexual, is none of your damn business.” She saw his face turn bright crimson and smiled. “If you and your friend want to buy some crap that's fine, otherwise go hop on those bicycles, I saw you two riding a minute ago, and peddle your business somewhere else.” She got a str
ange look on her face for a few seconds, before breaking out laughing as she realized what she had said.

  Issac feared some sort of demonic possession was at work and asked, “Are you alright, ma'am?”

  “I said get on your bikes and peddle your business somewhere else. Don't you get it boy? You guys pedal your bikes and I didn't even think about that until I said peddle.” She burst out laughing again and beat the dirty counter top next to the cash register with her meaty fist. The empty take a penny leave a penny cup clattered to the floor and rolled under the beef jerky display as Issac nervously backed up a couple of steps.

  Issac looked bewildered and glanced back to see if Jeremiah was done with the restroom yet. He wasn't sure what was wrong with the lady behind the counter, and walked back a couple more steps, as she laughed harder. She coughed and had trouble catching her breath as she laughed uncontrollably. Her laugh reminded him of the way sea lions barked and he was ashamed to admit that, in the back of his mind, he felt tempted to find a fish to toss at her.

  At first Daphne had been laughing at her inadvertent turn of phrase, but as the Bible thumper backed away she found herself laughing at his reaction more than anything else. She started seeing spots and had to look away from his befuddled face afraid she might pass out. She looked at the dead roaches on the floor behind the counter, and felt the laughter fade away.

  “What's so funny? Jeremiah asked, placing the key on the counter, as Daphne slowly stopped laughing. She looked at the wet, slick backed, short dark hair on the teenager and was reminded of all those evangelists who always begged for money on TV. Her mother died only two years earlier and all she left were piles of debt. And thank you letters from a wide variety of churches she'd been supporting without regard to her family or herself. She stopped laughing and looked at the newcomer shaking her head. “Nothing. Nothing's funny. Is there anything else I can help you kids with?”

  Jeremiah smiled sweetly at her and asked, “Pardon me Ma'am, but do you have a personal relationship with the Lord?” as Issac tried to shut him up. The last remnants of her smile were gone by the time he finished the question.

  “Come along, Jeremiah, I think we should-” Issac began, as Daphne finished the sentence if not precisely how Issac had intended.

  “Get the fuck out of here!” She reached under the counter for something as Issac quickly pulled his confused friend through the exit. They jumped on their bicycles and began pedaling as Daphne came lumbering through the door, swinging an old somewhat dented aluminum baseball bat.

  “Ride on holy rollers, get your fuck stick asses out of here! And don't come back!” She yelled as they quickly rode, side by side, down the deserted road.

  “What did you say to get her so upset when I was in the bathroom?” Jeremiah asked, looking over his shoulder at the speck of a store they'd left ten minutes earlier. “Did you call her fat or something?”

  “Certainly not. Some people are just hard to talk to.” Issac said, trying to sound wise to his young friend. “I suspect she had a lot of personal issues with God and when we find some shade I plan on doing some serious praying for her soul.”

  Jeremiah looked around and said, “Hold up. Stop a minute.” He pulled his compass out of his shirt pocket and said, “This says we're heading west and we're supposed to be going north. I think we made a wrong turn back at that store. Maybe we should go back and try again.”

  Both young men looked at the distant store and after a few seconds Issac said, “I think we'll be alright if we keep going this way. Plus, I think the roads actually going downhill this way so we won't have to pedal quite so hard.”

  “Okay by me, but remember what Brother Derek always said about taking the easy path.” Jeremiah said.

  Issac laughed, as he quoted his old teacher, “The road to Hell is always downhill.”

  Jeremiah called back, “So, that lady back at the gas station, with the baseball bat was she the gatekeeper Charon? If so, do you think the road were on is called Styx?”

  “I think you’re mixing religion with Greek mythology. Styx was the mythological river that Charon the ferry man crossed to escort sinners to Hades. And no, I doubt she was the gatekeeper of Hell.” Issac said, grinning.

  A minute later they rode to the edge of a small canyon and looked down the two mile long switch backing dirt road. The valley looked isolated and peaceful in a world where everyone was rushing about committing sins and never thinking about God's plan for their lives. Jeremiah got off his bike, set the kickstand, and walked over to the edge of the road. Looking down at an old wooden sign that had fallen over years earlier, he kicked at the sand, dirt and rocks that covered it and was barely able to make out the words Albuquerque Springs Trailer Park 2 miles. As he looked back into the valley, he was overcome with an unaccountably nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. There were small patches of trees and plants to the left and right sides of the trailer park. A big house on the other side of the valley and a couple dozen trailers were visible, here and there, yet most of it looked empty.

  “Looks like a ghost town. Might not even be anyone down there you know. And if there's no one there we'll have to push our bikes back up when we leave.” Jeremiah said, kicking a stone and looking at Issac. “Maybe we should skip it, just pass it by, and go find somewhere more inviting.”

  “What are you talking about? I think, I see a couple of people walking down there.” Issac said, pointing at the distant figures wandering toward some of the trailers. “They're just people and it’s a good bet we could be of spiritual help to some of them. That's our mission you know.”

  Jeremiah cleared his throat and looked back the way they'd come. “I can't put it into words, I just have a bad feeling about this place. I know it’s just my imagination, but I really think we should just pass it by.” He walked over and climbed on his bike and looked at Issac to see what he would say.

  Issac also felt something in the pit of his stomach, as he looked into the valley, but didn't want to admit it. Instead, he turned to Jeremiah and said, “You say we should pass on by and not visit the people down there. Do I need to remind you of the story of Luke Chapter Ten about the Good Samaritan? Let me just summarize it for you. There was a man who was hurt and needed help yet a priest who saw him did not take the time to help, he passed on by. Also a Levite who worked in the temple saw him in need and passed on by. The hurt man would surely have died had the Samaritan also passed on by, but he didn't. He took the man and helped him and you know who the Lord was telling people to be like, right?”

  Jeremiah looked at his friend and nodded “So, we're a couple of bike riding Samaritans, wandering the highways, looking to right wrongs and serve justice? Sort of like a two man A-Team that shares the good news of God?”

  Issac smiled and said, “You got that right. And if we're the A-Team I get to be Hannibal you can be-”

  “I call Face Man, on account of my incredible good looks.” Jeremiah interrupted and struck a heroic pose.

  “Hey Face Man, let's rest under the shade of that tree and have some lunch and then we’ll go down and visit with the good people of Albuquerque Springs Trailer Park.”

  They walked the bikes to the only tree outside the valley and enjoyed a lunch of ham sandwiches, bottled warm water, and stale potato chips.

  CHAPTER 6

  The beer was warm, almost flat, and not his favorite brand, and it tasted fantastic to Josey. The two men were sitting at the kitchen table, as Billy and Boris shared animal cracker cookies and listened to Johnny Cash, who Grandpa called the Man in Black. Billy sang softly along with Johnny as he sang about The Orange Blossom Special, on a small transistor radio that looked like something purchased from a Radio Shack in the 1970s.

  Josey was halfway through his second beer when the old man asked “When will somebody be coming to look for you?”

  He considered for a few moments, “It's hard to say, sir. I've got another five appointments scheduled for today, but usually no one is around when I dra
in the tanks. So I doubt any customers would call the office to complain today when I don't show up. The boss usually skips out of work early on Mondays, so it could be tomorrow morning before anyone notices I didn't come back today and file my reports. Then maybe they'll call Mrs. Remlap to see if I came out here today.”

  “But the phone lines have been out of service since those idiots knocked down the utility pole last Friday morning.” the old man said, and sipped from a plastic water bottle.

  “And cell phones have never worked in this valley, so mine's worthless.” Josey said, looking at it on the yellow table top. “If someone could get up to the valley's rim I'm sure it would work. Only problem is, I don't think either of us would be able to make the trip.”

  I could get up there grandpa. I run really fast. When I got to the top I could dial 911, just like they taught us to do in school, and then the police would come save us.” Billy said, as he fed Boris another animal cracker.

  The old man’s face turned pale as he shuddered and choked on the water he had been drinking. Josey smiled at the boy and said “I bet you could too, but I don't think it would be fair to those zombies. I bet they'd just give up after only a few seconds of chasing you. Nope, I know you could do it, but it wouldn't be very fair.” He gave the old man a wink Billy couldn't see. “Besides, nobody really needs to go get help. I bet by tomorrow, or Wednesday at the latest, the police or maybe the army will be here and we'll all be rescued. Heck kid, you and your grandpa will probably even get your pictures in the newspaper.” He spread his hands like he was reading an invisible newspaper “Might say something like, local heroes beat zombies.”