Dead Series (Book 2): A Little More Dead: Gunfire & Sunshine (20 page)

He sighed. “Wendy,
we’re just stuck in this thing together and…”

“Don’t tell me how
I feel, Paul!”

Creasing his brow,
he noticed the rest of the group watching from behind the truck. “I don’t want
to go back home anymore.”

She wrinkled her
brow. “What’re you talking about?”

“I almost got all
of us killed just going to Sophia’s grave and Des Moines will be a lot worse.
And for what? Some photo albums?” Looking behind the truck, he imagined the horde
catching up to them through the wavy vapors blurring the road. “We need to
stick to the countryside and search small towns for supplies until we can
figure out our next step.”

“Paul, I know how
much those photo albums mean to you. You’ll only change your mind later and
want to go back to get them so let’s just go now. We’re almost there.”

There is nothing but trouble waiting for you there.

Sophia again.

Figment of his
PTSD or not, his late wife was right. It was suicide and he had no right leading
these people straight into the hands of death. He should be leading them to
safety, to victory. He missed Sophia more than anything in the world and
couldn’t see her face and it was suffocating as all hell but right now, the
blood and guts dripping from the others in gooey globs made the whole thing
seem foolish. Selfish. Dangerous.

“No, we can’t risk
it.”

Wendy yanked on
his hands, drawing his eyes back to her. “We didn’t come this far to stop now.
Something is leading us back to your house that will tell us what to do next.
It’s not just about the photo albums.”

“Something like
what?”

“I don’t know,
Paul. The same
something
that got us
to Wavy Gravy. The same something that led us to these people.” She pointed
down the road. “The same something that got us past that train.”

Paul laughed. “Oh,
you mean the same
something
that got
Sophia and Dan killed. Or the same something that almost got you raped by two
maniacs? Gotcha.”

Wendy pinched her
eyes against the glare. “Who were you talking to on Wavy Gravy the morning we
almost died?” Her eyebrows went up. “Huh? Who was it Paul?”

He puckered his
brow. “I…I don’t remember.”

“And how did that
bedroom door slam shut right before I was about to get raped? Explain that one
to me.”

“The wind.”

“The windows were all
closed and you know it because we checked.” She sighed and dropped her gaze to
her bloody sneakers. A crow squawked off in the distance, rising above their
ragged breathing and overworked hearts. Wendy looked up and set a hand on his heaving
chest. “Whatever is inside of you, don’t fight it. Just let it come.” Her voice
lowered to a whisper. “It will see us through.”

He swallowed
dryly, the taste of dead fingers haunting his mouth. If she only knew the dream
he’d had this morning she’d rethink everything she just said. “First we need to
find another ride,” he said, examining the battered truck. “Then we’ll figure
out our next move.”

He tried walking
away but Wendy pulled him back to her. “We already know our next move,” she
said, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Pushing away, Paul turned for the
truck, catching a lingering look from Stephanie that filled him with shame.

Chapter
Seventeen

T
he dealership looked just like it did when the manager
shut out the lights and went home for the night nearly one month ago today. The
water cooler still worked and, other than the glass they just broke out in the
front door, nothing was out of place. Sunlight streamed through the large front
windows, giving the place a cheerful Saturday morning cartoons and cereal feel
that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Paul stepped around a white
Chevy Volt on the showroom floor and filled a paper cup with some more water,
blurring the rising bubbles into jellyfish-like blobs. Adrenaline receding,
exhaustion began to settle in like an old cat. He put the cup to his lips and
glanced at the others seated around a large circular table where deals were
hashed out in the past. They were a motley looking crew and he had to get them
someplace safe to reset for a few days. It couldn’t be kill, kill, kill all the
time. There had to be some R&R in there somewhere along the line, some levity,
some fun. But right now he just felt like sleeping on one of the couches in the
offices in back and fuck everything else. Unfortunately, what waited for him in
sleep was almost as bad as reality. The water was warm against his tongue and
helped rinse the taste of death from his mouth but not his mind. How many more
close calls could they possibly survive without…

“Are you okay?”

He turned to see
Stephanie standing next to him. “Yeah, you?”

She straightened
her bloody jacket. “There’s glass in my ears but other than that…” She flashed
a halfhearted smile and he appreciated the attempt.

Picking a piece of
flesh from her hair, he flicked it onto the window of a red Camaro. “Hope you
weren’t saving that for later.”

“There’s more
where that came from.”

He smiled and she
smiled back.

“Soooo…is
everything okay?”

He followed her
tight gaze to Wendy. “What do you mean?”

“She seems…upset.”

His face flushed
in the sunlight. Stephanie knew Sophia just died and he also knew what she must
be thinking and it embarrassed the hell out of him. “It’s not what you think,”
he said, refilling the cup. “She’s just scared and looking for something to
hang onto but she’s grabbing onto the wrong life raft.”

“That’s none of my
business. I want to know if we’re still going to your house, because two
minutes ago you didn’t seem so sure anymore.”

He passed her the
cup. “I’m not sure that’s the right move anymore. Look what happened back at
Sophia’s grave.”

“That could happen
anywhere we go.” Stephanie took a sip of the lukewarm water, studying him in
the sunlight. “Wendy’s right, we’ve come too far to give up now. We have to
make it to your house.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. We
just do.” She glanced at the long row of offices behind her. “What else are we
going to do? Live here?”

Paul sighed and let
his gaze wander out the windows. “There has to be a military refugee camp or
something out there. We can’t be the only ones left. There’s no way.”

Picking a piece of
glass from his hair, she dropped it into a wastebasket next to the water
cooler. “But where? That’s the question.”

He shook his head.
“All I know is that if we don’t find more people and soon…” His heartbeat
quickened when she took his hand and squeezed.

“We’ll find more.”

He fell into her
almond-shaped eyes for a few seconds with his mouth agape. “Will we?” he
whispered.

She stared back, her
skin warm against his. “Probably not.”

Paul laughed out
loud, bringing a smile to her pretty face that felt amazing.

“Hey guys, how’s
it going?”

They turned to
find Wendy standing behind them with a shifty look in her eyes.

Stephanie let go
of Paul’s hand and gave him back the cup. “Better,” she said, wandering back to
join Curtis and Billy at the big round table.

Wendy folded her
arms across her chest and watched Stephanie go. “I wish I had long legs like
that.”

“Me too,” he
replied, following Stephanie to the other side of the showroom. He didn’t like
the way everyone looked up at him when he got there.

“So which one do
you think we should we take?” Billy asked.

“The Camaros,”
Curtis said.

Billy pressed his
lips into a thin line. “Yeah, I don’t know about taking two cars, man.”

“They’re faster.
Plus, if one breaks down we still have another that’s good to go.”

“We’re not all
fitting into one Camaro, Curtis. Especially with all of our gear.” Billy turned
to Paul. “We should take a minivan that everyone can fit into. Something with
DVD players and stuff. What do you think?”

Paul crumpled the
cup and tossed it over his shoulder. “I think my name’s Paul and that’s between
y’all.” Even though he made it abundantly clear this was his party, he felt
like turning down the music and kicking everyone out. This party was over. He plopped
into a hard plastic chair and massaged his temples, bloodshot eyes drifting to the
tattered suit and tie strolling the dusty rows outside like a Sunday morning
looky-loo. More than likely, a car salesman who couldn’t figure out how to get
back home to eat his family.

“I’m telling you,
those two Camaros right there will get us out of any jam in a hurry.”

Billy shook his
head at Curtis. “There’s way more room to stretch out in a van, dude.”

“I’m not driving a
minivan,
Billy
. What don’t you get
about that?”

“Okay then, how
about a CUV?”

“Hell no.”

Paul jerked his
chin out the plate-glass window. “We’ll take the black Suburban,” he said, hoping
to thwart the headache taking root behind his right temple.

Billy examined the
ride for a long moment before nodding his approval. “I like it. Roll into town
like we’re the Secret Service.”

Wendy sat down
next to Paul and he leaned back, avoiding her gaze. “Appearance is everything,
which is why we’re wearing these badges.”

Curtis snorted his
laughter and flicked the silver badge pinned to his shirt. “I doubt those
things are gonna give two shits about some tinfoil badges.”

“No, but maybe the
next Jay and Marvin we come across will think twice before messing with us.”
Paul lowered his voice. “Like I said before, we are the law now and it’s time
to start spreading the news. For whatever reason, this world
wanted
to change last month and we are
here to change it back because it’s ours. It’s for us not them.” He stared out
into the sun-splashed day to avoid Wendy’s pining eyes.

Love
.

Pffff.

What did she know
about love? He loved Sophia, not Wendy who was slowly driving a wedge between
him and his wife just like Rebecca did. That skeezy record rep from Chicago could’ve
cared less that Paul belonged to someone else and Wendy flew the same flag. And
considering her occupation, it wasn’t surprising.

☠

Huddled around the
showroom table, they gorged on Little Debbie Swiss Rolls and Fudge Rounds while
watching the straggler outside try to escape the maze of new and used cars.
Paul leaned back in a comfortable office chair and scanned their faces as he
hit a joint. They looked like he felt: dirty and dead on their feet. It was
time for a much needed break before doing it all over again later this
afternoon.

“So what was it
like being a cheerleader in the NFL?”

Stephanie looked
up to find Wendy staring at her from across the table. “Oh it was a lot of fun.
Lot of traveling, which I love.”

Wendy shifted in a
plastic chair. “Soooo, if you don’t mind my asking, did you make a lot of money
doing that?”

Billy’s eyes
bounced between them as he chewed.

“No, it was just
part-time but something I dreamed of doing since I was a little girl.”

“Me too,” Paul
said, double-tapping the joint and drawing a playful look from Stephanie in the
process.

“Our dad was proud
as hell of her, too.” Curtis dug into another Swiss Roll, devouring half of it
in one bite. “Guy was the biggest Chiefs fan in all of KC.”

“He just liked the
free tickets they gave me, but it was more than just the on-field stuff I
enjoyed. We did so many fun things off field as well, like cheer camps and
visiting children in the hospital.”

Billy grunted.
“Lucky kids.”

Stephanie frowned
at him. “
Lucky
? You think having
Leukemia is lucky?”

“What? No, I…”

Curtis laughed,
eyes gravitating to Wendy. “So was it hard making the stripper squad?”

“Curtis!”
Stephanie slapped him. “That is so rude.”

“Hey, there’s no
shame in being a stripper. Bar wants to make money, they have to go after the
best. Right?”

“Well, I can tell
you one thing, my dad wasn’t very proud of me.” Wendy lowered her gaze and grew
quiet, twisting the smoked metal timepiece around her wrist. “He found out from
a friend who stopped by the club one night.”

Stephanie cringed.
“Ouch.”

“Yeah, that
probably contributed to his heart attack.”

“I’m sure that’s
not true.”

“But it paid a lot
better than Target.” Wendy looked up and tried on a smile that didn’t fit. “My
dad wanted me to go to college and become a dentist.” She laughed at the idea.
“But college wasn’t for me and I dropped out after two semesters.”

“Hey, you don’t
have to go to college to be successful. I didn’t.” Billy clasped his hands on
the table. “College is overrated anyway. These days, it’s nothing but a bunch
of drunken orgies and sexual assaults, and that’s no joke.”

Paul furrowed his
brow and passed him the joint. “I think there’s a little more to it than that.”

“All I know is
that if I had a daughter, her college fund would be a game-room fund,” Billy
said, capping the statement off with a drawn-out laugh that echoed in the large
room.

Stephanie traded a
quick look with her brother. “I think that’s what our dad did with our college
funds. He had an awesome game room.”

“I lost my
virginity on that pool table.”

Paul’s eyes
flicked to Curtis. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged. “Hey,
a bet’s a bet.”

“I don’t miss the
old world.”

Everyone turned to
Wendy, smiles fading.

“I hated my life
and my job and I don’t miss it.” She dared to look up and meet their heavy
gazes. “I know how much each one of you has lost and I am sorry for that, I
really am. But a part of me thanks God this infection happened and I feel
horrible saying that.” She turned from their incredulous stares and lit up a
cigarette. “But I feel like I have a purpose in this world that I never felt
before. I was so lost before this,” she said, glancing at Paul. “And now I
feel…present.”

Paul popped the
last of his Fudge Round into his mouth, wishing she’d just shut the fuck up for
two minutes because, as much as he hated to admit it, maybe she was right.
Maybe this life held their calling and not the old. And maybe they were still
alive because they weren’t so average after all. They may not have any training
but
something
was watching over them,
guiding them, protecting them, using them in the fight against evil. It sounded
ridiculous inside his head but so did the idea of dead people wandering the
streets. If the dead could rise, maybe he was here to put them back down.

Or maybe he’d die
siphoning gas two hours from now.

Everyone continued
eating as a heavy silence fell over the showroom like a damp sheet. Paul caught
himself staring at a tiny picture taped to the cubicle he was sitting beside. A
family of four posed in front of a sunlit cabin in the woods, everyone smiling
brightly except a young girl with long dark hair and disdain swimming in her
eyes. The gloomy look on her face sent a case of the chills running through him
and he wondered why the sales person chose to tape that particular picture to
his cubicle – until Paul noticed the young girl wore the exact same expression
in the other pictures as well. No matter how bright and cheery the location –
an amusement park, the beach, the zoo – she looked like she was in a living
hell. A wall clock fell to the floor behind the customer service desk and
shattered into pieces. Everyone jumped. Paul sprang from the chair and drew his
gun, taking aim at something that wasn’t there.

“Fuckin-A,” Billy
shouted, jerking Chubby’s weapon from shiny car to shiny car. “The fuck was
that?”

Curtis dashed
across the showroom and did a quick sweep of the offices. “Just a stupid clock,”
he said, going behind the crescent-moon shaped desk and inspecting the wall
with Fork Rivers Autoland written across it in large yellow letters. “Nail came
loose or somethin.”