Dead Series (Book 2): A Little More Dead: Gunfire & Sunshine (17 page)

“Be careful,”
Wendy whispered, holding the light under the pink gun.

Paul kept the M4 trained
on the woman, breath hitching when something ran across the toe of his shoe. He
jerked the gun to a shadow darting into a hallway and disappearing into the
dark. Stephanie shrieked and covered her mouth, drawing Wendy’s light.

“Something just
touched my leg.”

“Let’s just get
the hell out of here,” Billy pleaded, jerking his Taser around the dining room.

“Take it easy with
that thing,” Paul whispered, turning back to the lady who still hadn’t moved. A
gunshot went off behind him, making him whirl around to see Curtis pointing his
shotgun at a dead cat on the floor, this one white with brown spots and no head.

“Goddamn,” Curtis breathed.
“Sorry, thought it was a straggler. Fucking cats are all over the place.”

Paul pivoted on
his heels, certain the old woman would be standing right behind him when he did,
ready to sink her teeth into his face like a cobra. But she wasn’t. She stood
in front of the kitchen sink with her head tipped down so Paul went closer,
ready to blow her face off in necessary. In the kitchen, he noticed a row of
litter boxes off to the left and several bowls of... A grunt shot from him when
someone bum rushed him from the other side of the archway and slammed him up
against an old-fashioned refrigerator. Paul shoved the M4 against the old woman’s
chest to keep her snapping teeth at bay while salt and pepper hair swung wildly
across her furious face. She’d moved so fast from the sink he didn’t even see
her coming. Then, out the corner of his wild eyes, he saw the old woman still
standing in front of the sink with her head down. It wasn’t possible. The other
woman sprayed a smelly scream across his face and that’s when it hit him.

Twins.

There was a loud
snap and she started shaking against him. Paul pushed with the gun and sent her
stumbling backwards. A gun blast went off, spraying his face with cold blood
and jerking the bag of bones to the floor. His eyes went to the smoke rising
from Wendy’s handgun to the wires connecting Billy’s Taser to the thing
crumpled on the floor. The old woman standing in front of the sink issued a
pissed off scream and limped forward. She reached for them with saggy arms, moving
so slowly Stephanie had more than enough time to drop her next to her sister on
the cracked linoleum floor.

Paul wiped blood
from his eyes, ears ringing. “I knew we should’ve gone somewhere else.”

Stephanie pointed her
gun at the bodies. “They look exactly alike.”

Curtis spit to the
floor. “Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the kitchen.”

Paul scanned the
cans and boxes and dirty pans covering the kitchen counters, gut wrenching. He
looked back to the dead women on the floor. “They were working together.”

Everyone slowly
looked up.

“It was an
ambush.” He met their baffled gazes. “They were working together, like lions
when they hunt.”

“Or
velociraptors.”

Paul turned to Billy,
who offered up a limp shrug.

“Haven’t you ever
seen
Jurassic Park
?” He looked down
at the woman he’d zapped with the Taser. “Clever girl.”

“Love that movie,”
Curtis muttered.

“That’s impossible.”
Fear rattled Stephanie’s words. “Most of these things can barely walk let alone
think.”

“No, Paul’s
right,” Wendy said, swinging the flashlight around the kitchen. “The woman
standing in front of the sink was the bait. Her sister, hiding over here, was
the ambusher.”

Paul ran a hand
through his hair, flinging blood to the floor. “We told you about those two
back on the beach. They worked together to keep us from getting out of the
water. Some of these things are getting smarter.”

“Like Chubs back
at the station.” Billy stared at the dead twins. “He used a mop as a tool.” He
looked up, eyes widening. “And what about my mom controlling that chair? It was
like she
wasn’t
dead, man.”

“This isn’t the
first time we’ve seen behavior that indicates some level of cognizance.” Paul
nodded at Wendy. “The car show guy hiding in the attic for one.”

“Or the dead girl
riding a bike in Brock’s driveway,” she countered.

Billy frowned.
“Say what?”

“Hey, even monkeys
can use tools.” Curtis pumped the shotgun. “Don’t mean they can outthink us.”

Paul swept a hand
out. “These two just about did!”

Billy raised a
finger. “Hold on. What if they’re getting smarter with every person they eat?”
He nodded sternly, like he was on to something. “Flesh is their fuel, but what
if when they eat someone they also take a part of that person with them.”

“Yeah, like a
leg,” Curtis said.

“No, I mean like a
piece of their DNA or something.”

“When did the cop
start using the mop?”

Billy turned to
Paul. “About two weeks in.”

“But he didn’t eat
anyone.”

“That’s not true.
Didn’t you see the blood on his hands and mouth?” Billy swallowed hard. “Chubs
would take off for a few hours now and then and come back with fresh blood on
him.”

“They’re not
getting smarter with every person they eat; that’s not even possible.” Wendy
set her hands on her hips. “Is it?”

Stephanie shook
her head. “I’m getting a very bad feeling about this and I don’t mind saying it.
I mean, what’s next? Using humans for bait in their traps?”

Paul’s gaze slowly
rose to find her staring back at him, insides twisting as he imagined Stephanie
tied to a chair in some living room with zombies hiding behind the curtains.

☠

After clearing the
rest of the decrepit house and dragging the twins out the back, the group
huddled in the kitchen to collect their thoughts. Paul washed off with a wet
towel as another cat slipped out the backdoor they left propped open to clear
the air. During their tedious search, they turned up at least a dozen cats –
most dead and the rest skinny as rails – and no shortage of mice skeletons
either. The smell alone was bad enough, but there was so much stuff piled everywhere
they couldn’t even stretch out to sleep, not in the same room anyway.

“Let’s just find
another house,” Billy suggested for the fifth time, his dilated eyes darting
around the room like bats.

“We need some rest.”
Paul leaned against the sink, the thought of clearing another house in the dark
draining what little energy he had left. If they ran into more trouble, they
might not be as lucky (if you could call this
lucky
). They were tired and jumpy and it was only a matter of time
before someone made a fatal mistake. His gaze floated to the holes in the
ceiling. “I say we clear a spot in the living room and call it a night.”

“I don’t think I
can sleep in here,” Stephanie said, scanning the filthy kitchen. “There’s mouse
poop everywhere.”

“You’d think with
so many cats, there wouldn’t be any mice.” Wendy blew out an exhausted breath
that fluttered a loose strand of her bangs. “This really is disgusting.”

“Let’s just clear
the living room and get some sleep.” Paul didn’t wait for anyone to agree with
him before crossing into the dining room, junk crunching beneath his feet.

Waking up at three
twenty-three, disappointment set in when he checked his watch to see it wasn’t
even four in the morning yet. He wasn’t even entirely sure he’d fallen asleep and
was ready to put this place behind them and get back home. With the faint
moonlight slipping through the windows, he noticed Curtis missing from the room
and peeled back the blanket to find Wendy snuggled up against him. He felt
guilty for getting used to waking up with her by his side like this but that’s
how things worked in this world. Things moved fast.

Too fast.

He tried getting
up and she pulled him to the blanket they’d thrown over the carpet to alleviate
some of the cat piss smell which didn’t work. “Where are you going?” she
whispered, pulling the other blanket over them to ward off the cold.

“To check on
Curtis.”

Leaning up on an
elbow, she brushed hair from her face and looked to Stephanie and Billy sleeping
at their feet. Paul suddenly got the uneasy feeling Curtis had taken off in the
truck and left them for dead. His eyes snapped back to Stephanie and he forced
himself to relax. Curtis would never leave her behind like that and probably
just went to take a leak in a litter box out in the kitchen.

“When that crazy
old lady slammed you up against the fridge tonight, my heart almost burst from my
chest.” Her fingertips rubbed soft circles into his arm. “You’ve saved me so
many times, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Wendy, you’re a
strong woman who would do just fine without me,” he said, staring into the blue
eyes he could almost see through the darkness. “It’s almost like you were born
to do this.”

She smiled and pressed
her lips to his, catching him off guard and tasting like strawberries. Paul
hesitated for a second or two that lasted forever and pushed her away. The soothing
touch of another woman could almost heal the scars incurred over the past few weeks
but the guilt stood strong.

“Paul, I need
you.” Her hand slithered beneath the blanket, quickly finding the bulge in his
jeans and quickening his breath.

He removed her
hand. “Wendy, I told you I can’t do this.”

Her fingertips
traced the stubble on his cheek, faces inches apart. “I know what you’ve been
through and I also know what we’re up against. There are no guarantees anymore
and I may not be here tomorrow.”

“Come on.”

“It’s true, Paul.
Each day is a gift and I don’t want to waste a single one.” She kissed him on
the lips as if he were made of glass. Pulling away, she peered into his eyes.
“We need something to hang onto now more than ever.”

“I can’t.”

“But I know you
want to.” She didn’t wait for a reply and kissed him again, her sweet saliva
mixing with his as her hand disappeared beneath the blanket again. She broke
their kiss to flash him a devilish grin. “See? You do like it.”

Paul threw the
blanket back and strapped his gun on before tying his shoes. “I should check on
Curtis.”

“Paul.”

Shaking her hand
from his arm, he tip-toed to a window facing the driveway, being extra cautious
to avoid knocking over a stack of books, which, in this world, could get you
shot or eaten. He released a pent-up breath, seeing the truck parked outside
and feeling foolish for thinking the worst of Curtis. Going back around Wendy
and the piles of clutter, he made it to the hallway where a faint noise came
from the bathroom at the end. Going closer, he pressed his ear to the door and
listened to the soft sound of someone weeping inside. His imagination ran away
with him, conjuring up the image of one of the dead old ladies as a ghost, crying
on the toilet and ruing the brutal end to a long hard life.

Paul’s hand went
to the gun on his leg, the other quietly cracking open the door. His heart sank
when he saw Curtis sitting on the toilet with his pants up and his face buried
in his hands. A candle on the counter flickered when Paul stepped inside and
shut the door behind him. He scanned the bathroom cluttered with junk that
didn’t belong in a bathroom before looking back to Curtis who hadn’t moved.

“Curtis?”

He jerked like
he’d just taken a shot of high-voltage. Brushing tears from his face, he glared
at Paul. “What the hell, doesn’t anyone knock anymore?”

“Sorry, I thought
you were the ghost of one of those dead old ladies crying over what happened to
her earlier tonight.”

His face soured in
the flickering light. “What?”

Paul holstered his
gun and crouched down. “What’s wrong?”

Curtis looked away
and shook his head, straining to keep his lower lip from quivering. “Nothing.”

“Is it Troy?”

He blinked a tear
out. “When I was a kid, my mouth would get me in so much trouble but Troy was
always there to protect me and now he’s not.” He snorted his amusement. “I was
so pissed about him getting bit I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Paul nodded for a
moment without speaking, lassoing carefully chosen words out of thin air. “All I
can tell you is it gets easier.”

“Did you get to
say goodbye?”

Sophia wasting
away on that couch whisked through his mind. “Sort of.”

Curtis pulled his
hands through his sandy blond hair. “This shit’s so fucked up, bro. I don’t
even know what to think anymore.” Remorse pulled on his face. “I mean, is it even
worth it? Look at tonight, and that’s just one night.”

“I know.”

“I mean, how many
more times are we going to
almost
die
and for what? Where is this whole thing going?”

“I don’t know,
Curtis.”

“Where will we go
after your house?”

Paul shook his
head. “There’s no easy button for this and it never ends. At this point, I’m
just trying to get through it one day at a time.”