Dead Life (Book 4) (14 page)

              She slowly raised her head out of the sink and gave me a weak smile. “I'm not staying here by myself. Just give me a second.”

              “Take as much time as you need,” John said.

              Lily rinsed her mouth and threw the empty water bottle in the trashcan by the sink. “I'm ready.”

              The hallway led to the den which then led back into the living room. Since none of us really wanted to go back through the dining room we turned back the way we'd came. A door in the den led out to the attached garage. In the garage, hanging on hooks, we found the keys to all three of the vehicles out front. We then cleared the upstairs portion of the house. There were no more dead bodies or zombies in the house so we scrounged up a change of clothes for the three of us and went back downstairs. We then went out through the garage, loaded everything from the Kia into the Escalade, and pulled our new ride into the garage. Tomorrow we would start our day like civilized people. After waking up in the morning we would have a nice breakfast, go out to the garage, get in our Cadillac, and head off to work. Only thing uncivilized would be our job; trying to survive and killing zombies.

              After we were done getting ready for tomorrow we went out to the pool and pulled off the winter cover. Since John still smelled like dead zombie it was decided that he would be last to get in the pool. Lily and I bathed quickly, as the water was too cold for anything else. Using some soap and shampoo we'd found in the house we scrubbed each other clean. I could get used to bathing with her fast; safety in numbers and all that. We got dressed in the clean clothes we had so recently acquired. I couldn't wait to find a store and load up on some clothes that actually fit. Then Lily and I went back inside.

              Lily handed John a fresh bar of soap. “I want you to use this whole fucking thing. When you're done you should smell like an Irish spring morning.”

              “I hope so. I can't hardly stand myself,” he said. “By the way, you might want to brush those teeth. I can smell your breath from here.” John ran for the door but didn't make it out before being pelted with Lily's wet towel.

              The kitchen was still well stocked so we gathered together some canned food for dinner. Then Lily and I loaded the rest into the Escalade along with two cases of bottled water. There was a fireplace in the den so I made a fire. Having a warm dinner after everything we had been through today sounded like a good idea. Lily found some fresh fruit in the refrigerator that hadn't gone bad yet so we would even have desert. To top everything off there were two bottles of red wine in one of the cupboards. Tonight was party night.

              Dinner was good and the mood was almost festive. The wine was a welcome change and we did our best to enjoy ourselves. It turned out to be too much to ask, having a good time when so much death surrounded us. The night deteriorated to the point where John and I argued over guard duty. I was feeling pretty good about things and didn't think we needed to stand watch tonight. John, on the other hand, reminded me of how bad things really were out there. After a while Lily finally spoke up. She agreed with John, volunteered for first watch, and went upstairs to watch from one of the bedrooms that overlooked the front of the house. I tried to go with her but she told me it was better that I stay downstairs and sleep by the fire. She'd be down to wake me for my shift in a few hours.

              They were right.

Chapter 12

              I made my way through the woods and came even with the truck. Even though there was a window on this side of the house I was able to make my way out of the woods. Using the truck for cover I crept up to the vehicle. The widows were down and when I looked in for the keys I saw blood sprayed all across the dashboard. The blood hadn't fully congealed yet and was still dripping onto the floor mats. I assumed this was the vehicle belonging to whoever had just kidnapped Cindy. The keys weren't in the ignition so I went around the back of the truck; staying low so as not to be seen from the house. From where I was there was nothing to be done other than go to the window of the truck and check the sun visor for the keys or go straight to the house. I'd already been covered in zombie blood once today so the prospect of getting a little human blood on me didn't bother me in the least. The truck it was. I went around and pulled down the visor. Bingo, the keys fell onto the dash. From there I didn't hesitate. It was all or nothing. I ran to the house and crouched beneath the open window. From where I was I cold hear an argument in progress.

              “Get your ass out to that truck and get your cousin,” a female voice hollered.

              “Ma there ain't no reason to bring him in here. He's just gonna get blood all over the floor.”

              “When your daddy gets back I'm gonna tell him how you and Jimmy been behavin'. He's gonna beat both your asses!”

              “Jimmy's dead Ma and I told you, that motel Daddy was hold up in is on fire. I think the same folks killed Jimmy done killed Daddy.”

              “Your Daddy ain't dead. He'll be back soon. Ain't no way him and your Uncle Tommy let nobody like that fella you done killed kill them and as far as that little whore you brought back here goes, well she gonna be dead soon anyway.”

              “Aw come on Momma let me keep her for a while.”

              “Won't have that in my house. You can just go back to stickin' your thing in them Z's you got tied up out in the woods. That's right, I know all about what you and your cousin have been up to.”

              “I'm keepin' her!”

              “Then you can get her out of this house.”

              “Where am I gonna keep her Momma? The barn fell down. There ain't no place else.”

              “Go get your cousin out of the back of that truck. I'm gonna need to get him cleaned up for buryin'.”

              “Can't we do it outside, Momma? He's gonna get blood all over the...Ow stop hittin' me with that spoon!”

              “Then go get him like I said. You done broke my best wooden spoon with that hard head of yours. Get out there Cletus, now!”

              I heard the door to the back of the house bang open and some one walked around the corner from the back of the house. I pointed my rifle at him as he walked past talking to himself.

              “I'm not cleanin' up any messes. Serves her right breakin' her spoon,” he mumbled, walking over to the truck and opening the tailgate. “Come on Jimmy we're goin' inside.” He reached in the bed of the truck, grabbed the body by the feet, and pulled it out; letting it fall to the ground.

              When he bent over to pick the body up off the ground I walked up behind him and hit him on the back of the head with the butt of the rifle. He fell to the ground and whirled around to face me.

              “Why'd you do that Momma?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head. “You ain't my Momma.”

              “You've got a hard head there Cletus.”

              “If you're wantin' to knock somebody out ya hit em in the neck not the head, ya dumb ass.”

              I hit him with the butt of the rifle in the mouth for good measure. “Is that better?”

              Cletus turned his head to the side and spit a mouthful of blood, along with a few teeth, on the ground. “Ya missed again,” he said, smiling up at me. Drooling blood and saliva down the front of his shirt.

              I pulled the rifle back to hit him again. His arms came up and he covered his head. “Had enough? Get up.”

              He got to his feet never once taking his eyes off of me. He stood staring at me still smiling. “Shoot the dumb son-of-a-bitch Momma.”

              “I'm not falling for that.”

                            I heard the distinct sound of someone cranking the slide on a shotgun. “You better drop that gun mister,” a woman's voice said from behind me.

              “I wouldn't do that if I was you lady. You shoot me and I'm going to just end up shooting your boy here.”

              “Well mister, I'm kinda mad at him anyways. I'll take my chances.”

              “Hang on y'all,” Cletus said, reaching for my rifle. “Just give me the gun mister.”

              “Get any closer to that barrel Cletus and I'll shoot. You need to move back.”

              He took a step back and put his hands on his sides. The idiot looked more bored than scared and if Momma was to be believed I was about to get shot in the back.

              “Lady all I want is the girl. Give her to me and I'm gone. Nobody else has to die here.”

              “That ain't true. Jimmy's already dead and I think you killed Daddy too. Oh yeah, and my Uncle Tommy.”

              “Is that true mister, you kill my husband?”

              “I don't know what he's talking about,” I said. Where the hell was Al? “Just give me the girl and I'm gone.”

              “Cletus, go get the man his whore.”

              “No Momma, she's mine and I'm keepin' her.”

              “I'm sorry mister,” she said. “I've indulged my only son for all these years. He wants to keep your woman and I'm not gonna tell him no now, especially since you probably killed his daddy.”

              I tightened my grip on the trigger of my rifle. It was set to full auto. I figured if I fell to the ground and brought it around firing I might be able to take her out before she shot me. As I started to drop, a shot rang out causing me to tense my grip on the trigger. Right before I opened fire I heard another shot and realized I hadn't been hit. My gun went off and I pretty much cut Cletus in half as I spun around to take out Momma. As I came around I saw her shotgun on the ground. She held both hands on her neck, blood leaking between her fingers. From out of the corner of my eye I saw Al and Cindy. He had one arm around her holding her up. In his other hand he held a pistol.

              “It's about goddamn time,” I said.

              “You're lucky. I wasn't going to wait for you but Cindy made me come back for you.”

              “Thanks Cindy.”

              “We need to get out of here. She says there's more of these backwoods fucks around here somewhere.”

              “The keys are in this one over here,” I said.

              Al helped Cindy over and the three of us got in the truck. I heard the blast of the shot gun as the truck was peppered with shot. Al started shooting out of the passenger window and I threw the truck into drive. We sped away headed for the logging road leading away from the shack. Muzzle flashes came from the direction of the road and I was forced to turn away as the truck was hit multiple times. Steam rose from the engine compartment and the motor sputtered. We wouldn't be making it out of here in this truck.

              “Try to get back to the house,” Al shouted. “It's the only cover we've got out here.”

              “If they pin us down in there we'll never get out of here,” I said. “I'm going for one of the other trucks.”

              “Go for that one over there,” Al said, pointing to the far side of the clearing.

              The rpms red lined as we flew past the house headed for the truck on the far side of the clearing and the engine howled. About twenty feet away from the truck the engine finally died. Well it actually didn't just die, it blew up. I am not much of a mechanic but I'm pretty sure it was one of the pistons that was now poking through the top of the hood. I didn't even get a chance to hit the breaks before the truck shuddered to a stop. The three of us were thrown into the dashboard and Al glared at me like I'd done something wrong. The only cover we had was now on fire and I was sure we only had a few seconds before the whole thing went up in flames. Bullets were still sporadically hitting the truck from Al's side so I threw my door opened and pulled Cindy from the flaming truck. Al climbed out and went to the back of the truck and started shooting back from over the bed.

              “Help her over to the other truck,” Al shouted, as he slapped in a new magazine. “I'm counting four shooters and they're still tightly bunched over by the road. We need to get moving before they split up.”

              “How do you know they'll do that?”

              “It's what I'd do,” he said then emptied his magazine in their direction. “Keep this truck in between you and the entrance to the road. If the other one's got keys in it drive it over here.”

              Al started shooting again. I took this as my cue to get moving so we started off. Cindy seemed to be doing a little better and was able to jog along with only minimal help from me. We got to the truck. It was a Ford F250 King Ranch. The truck looked to be brand new and my suspicions were confirmed when I climbed into the cab and saw the price sticker on the floor board. These rednecks only stole the best. This baby had all the bells and whistles. Best of all it had the keys in the ignition. Cindy climbed into the back seat and I fired the truck up.

              “Al wouldn't give me a gun. Said I'd shoot myself. Give me something before we get to him,” Cindy said.

              “I don't know. You look pretty banged up,” I said. We were already to the burning truck and Al was on his way over.

              “Hurry up. Just give me your shot gun.”

              My shot gun and rifle lay on the seat beside me so I grabbed it and handed it back to her as Al climbed in.

              “Honey I told you, no guns. You're hurt too bad. Steve, drive up behind the house. Use it for cover. Tell you what, take my pistol. That thing's got too much kick to it,” Al said, reaching back over the seat handing his 22 to Cindy and taking the shotgun from her. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he said, glaring at me.

              “She needs a gun.”

              “Remember when you gave me that hon?” Al asked, opening his door and getting out. “Steve, get out.”

              “Your birthday two years ago,” Cindy said.

              “That's right and I always carry it with me,” he said. “Honey you wait here. We'll be right back.”

              Al and I walked to the front of the truck. “What's the plan?” I asked.

              “I was thinking you could run out into that field over there and I could pick them off while they're trying to shoot you.”

              I looked at Al like he was crazy. “I'm not doing that. You run out there.”

              “I'm a better shot than you,” he said. “They're going to split up. One of them will guard the road. One of them will try to come straight at the house and the other two will try and flank our position from both sides.”

              “You're sure about that?”

              “No, but that's how it should be done. So for now that's how we'll assume they'll come. Take the right side, I'll go left. You stay close to the house and keep an eye on Cindy. I'm going after them”

              Al went to the left side of the house and crouched down so I did the same on the left. It wasn't long before he fired his rifle once and made a run for the woods. I went over to his side and sure enough some one was lying dead on the edge of the field. Al ran past the body and into the woods leaving Cindy and me alone. I went back to the truck to check on her. She had passed out in the back of the cab. I heard gunfire. From the sound and location, it wasn't Al. Someone was shooting at him from the field in front of the house. I locked the doors to the truck and went into the house through the back door.

              Through the front door I could see someone running through the middle of the field headed for the house. His attention was drawn to where Al had gone into the woods and it would be an easy shot to take him out. I went to the window and rested my rifle on the window sill. I was lining up a shot on his head when I remembered this was a living person I was dealing with. I lowered my aim and shot him in the chest. The zombie raping son-of-a-bitch went down but he wasn't out. I could hear him calling out to his butt buddies.

              “Tom, oh god I'm shot. Help me.”

              “You in the house,” someone hollered from the wooded area off to the right. “Why you done this thing?”

              “What the hell are you talking about?”

              Multiple shots rang out and bullets flew past me where I was crouched by the side window. He had only been trying to get a fix on my location in the house. When he stopped shooting I ran for the open door and dove through it, rolling when I hit the ground. I came to a stop in the open and sprays of dust flew up all around me. He had me pinned down so I started rolling across the ground back towards the edge of the back porch.