Floodwater Zombies (15 page)

Woody exhaled a long breath and stared at his battered reflection in the bar mirror. He barely recognized the man looking back at him. Normally, his tan set off his white coral necklace but tonight they blended.

“Woody!”

Woody’s bloodshot eyes snapped over to Rob.

Rob leaned forward, looking past Mick. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, his eyes as glassy as a bucket of cool water. “Something…came out of the lake.”

Everyone’s eyes narrowed at the same time as they slowly shuffled closer to Woody, reminding Rory of those things.

“Was it the boogeyman?”

They slowly turned to Alex, who was staring at Woody with grave eyes. He set a red marker (which he had just used to draw a pool of blood beneath the hearse) onto the bar. “He’s come back, hasn’t he?” he asked, brushing his hand against the cap gun stuffed inside his holster.

Woody swallowed dryly and turned to Marge. “Can I get a quick drink of that?”

Her eyes dropped to the Jack and Cokes in her hands. “Sure, honey.”

Woody grabbed a glass, pushed the straw aside and finished the drink in four large chugs. “Thank you,” he sighed, handing her the empty glass.

Marge took it and frowned at the ice cubes rattling around in the bottom. She looked back up, her face drooping further. “What the hell happened out there, Woody?”

He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Dead people came out of the lake. They dragged Kate, Ashley and Clutch back into the water with them. We’re pretty sure they’re all dead.”

Marge nodded slowly, examining him with dubious eyes. “I see.”

Rob got up from his stool and started for the front door.

“Where you
goin
?”
Mick called out after him.

“Get my gun,” he said dryly, pushing the glass door open and stepping into the dimly lit parking lot.

Doc came through the wooden door behind the bar with two cases of Miller High Life bottles in his beefy arms. He set them on top of a long cooler with a grunt and followed Alex’s wary eyes to Woody. Doc’s forehead - shiny from too much
Brylcreem
– folded. “What’s wrong?
Ya
run out of beer already? It’s not even midnight yet.”

Kourtney hung up the phone. “The police are on their way.”

Doc’s face twisted in the light from a neon Corona sign.
“Police?”
He went around the bar, his eyes finally falling upon their wounds. “Good Lord, what happened?”

Chapter Ten

“Jake Fletcher?
Bullcrap
!”
Deputy Myer huffed, studying Woody through thin eyes. Fleetwood Mac’s
Gypsy
was the only thing to interrupt the shocked silence that followed. “What’s this all about, Rory?” He turned to Rory, resting his hand on his sidearm. “You’re back in town for…what, two days and you’re already causing trouble? That
ain’t
like you.”

Rory shifted on his bar stool, feeling like a child with the deputy hovering over him. “Just take us down there and we will show you.”

Rachel frowned. “I’m not going back there!
No way!”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Kourtney said, leaning over the bar and patting Rachel’s hand. “You don’t have to go anywhere.”

Myer took a step closer and squinted at Rory, holding his tongue for what seemed like several minutes. “Well then tell me this…why didn’t these…
things
follow you into the woods? What’re they some kind of new fangled water-zombies?” he said, making his fingers dance across the air like he was playing an invisible piano.

Rory looked around the bar. The faces staring back at him were eager for his reply. “I don’t know.”

Myer inched
closer,
encroaching upon Rory’s personal space like a well-trained cop knows how to do. “Well, I’ll tell you what I know. I know you smell like a bar,” he said softly, his voice filled with righteous indignation.

Mick chuckled. “Look around,
Enis
. You’re in a bar!”

The deputy’s head spun around so fast his cheeks jiggled. “What’d I tell you about that
Dukes of
Hazzard
crap, Michael?” he scowled.

Mick lifted his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. “That it’s your favorite TV show ever?”

“Your inspiration for life itself,” Rob added.

Myer stared at them for a moment longer before swinging his icy glare back to Rory. He shifted in his stance and cocked his head. “Tell me
somethin
, ace, you been smoking the evil weed tonight?”

“W-what?”
Rory stammered. “No, Jason, I haven’t.”

“Oh yeah?
Then how come your eyes are so bloodshot.”

“Allergies.”

Myer laughed, his belly bouncing inside a skin-tight Minot Sheriff’s Department t-shirt that was black and hid the swelling pit stains beneath his armpits.
“Allergies!
All of
ya
?” His eyes swept down the line to Rachel and Woody.

Rob dropped his head and chuckled. “Maybe he’s allergic to the fun police, Roscoe.”

Myer turned to him with a scowl.
“How
bout
you, Rob?
How much you and Mick had to drink tonight?”

“After this crazy story, not nearly enough,” Mick said, clanking his bottle against Rob’s.

“Yeah, and I catch either one of you
ridin
those bikes
outta
here tonight I’m gonna bust the both of
ya
.”

Rob sat up straight and drunkenly saluted the deputy.
“Aye, aye captain!”

“Hey, you
gotta
pay for them snazzy uniforms somehow,” Mick scoffed, wiping beer from his mustache with a hand that only a mechanic could have.

“Jason, come on now, quit harassing our customers,” Kourtney said, adjusting her ponytail. “Unless you want to start
payin
for all that Mountain Dew you put away every week.”

Myer turned back to Rory and removed his black Minot Sheriff’s Department ball cap to reveal sweat droplets glistening below his receding hairline. He took a calming breath and released it, rubbing his forehead. “Listen, Rory, I’m the only one out here patrolling for fifty miles around,” he said, lowering his voice. “To top it off, I’ve got a three-month-old baby girl with a cold at home and an irritated wife who hasn’t slept in two days. I don’t have time for zombie fairytales.”

Rory traded glances with Woody and turned back to Myer and spoke slowly. “They’re not fairytales.”

“
Bullcrap
!” he yelled, spraying Rory’s face with warm spittle.
“You on mushrooms, too?
Cuz
I’ll bust the whole darn lot of
ya
.”

Rory got to his feet, rising to Myer’s level. The deputy instantly closed the gap between them, bridging their noses.

“You can at least go take a look.”

Myer bumped him with his big belly. “I’ve seen about all I need to see right here,” he said, the smell of peanut butter floating out with his words.

Rory pushed back, caught up in some bizarre sumo wrestling match with the local deputy sheriff. “How about you try doing your job for once, Jason? It’s really not that hard,” Rory said through gritted teeth.

Myer grinned at him. “Least I’ve got a
job
,
Rory
.”

Rory laughed and turned to the others.
“Yeah, if you call
stakin
out the Dunkin Donuts a job!”

Rob and Mick laughed.

Myer paid them no attention and held his ground, clinching his fists at his side. “You
gotta
big mouth. You know that?”

Rory chest bumped him a step back. “Bet
ya
think it’s
purty
, too, don’t
ya
?”

“All right, now just take it easy, Rory!” Doc cut in. “Jesus Christ, Jason, you’re already here. Might as well quit your
bellyachin
and go take a quick look.”

Myer snorted, making his belly shake. “Take a look for what?
Some unicorns and leprechauns prancing around the woods?
They’re just stoned, Doc. That’s all.”

Woody tossed another sideways glance to Rory and then took a long sip from a cold bottle of water.

Doc leaned his thick forearms on the shiny bar top and stared into Myer’s eyes. “Deputy, I’ve known these kids damn near their whole lives and they wouldn’t make something like this up. They’re good kids. Now, look at
em
! They
’re covered in scratches and scared to death
. If they were partying out at the lake and came all the way in here, asking us to call the police, then there must be a good goddamn reason for it.”

The deputy laughed sharply and took a few steps back. “Come on, Doc! Don’t tell me you believe this zombie crap. Heck, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say…”

“Jason!” Doc barked, startling the deputy into a stunned silence. “You get your ass in that patrol car and go check it out or I’ll call Hooper down here.” Doc stared the deputy down with hardened eyes, eyes that had seen a lot of weird shit in this place over the years. And one thing Doc Newcomb didn’t put up with was weird shit.

Myer swallowed dryly and turned back to Rory and Woody, an unyielding glower gripping his sweaty face. “You two are riding with me.”

“So are we,” Rob said, standing up and finishing his bottle.

“The heck you are!” Myer said, heading for the door and not looking back.

“Let
em
come! You might need all the help you can get,” Doc said, staring worriedly at Rachel. “
Specially
since you’re the only one patrolling for fifty miles around.”

Alex unleashed his silver cap gun and pointed the orange end at the ceiling. “I’m going, too!”