Floyd & Mikki (Book 2): Zombie Slayers (Dawn of the Living) (23 page)

The men picked up Mikki’s body and carried it back to the ambulance. Doc grumbled and griped the whole way, asking why people had to go and tear themselves up, when there are plenty of other things around willing to do that for them. It was a running monologue that everyone ignored. Nothing more than background noise. Everyone knew that for all his complaining, Doc would do his best to fix Mikki up. If that was possible.

Then there was the problem of what to do with Mya, who was still unconscious, still feverish, and still dying. There was only room for one patient in the ambulance at a time, so Doc yelled for some of the men to bring over a stack of blankets, which they put on the ground next to the rear door of the ambulance. Following the doctor’s orders, they lowered the gurney from the ambulance and gently transferred Mya to the blankets. Then they loaded Mikki on the gurney face down and hoisted it back into the ambulance.

Meanwhile, Doc rummaged through the bag of medicinal supplies that Mikki had scavenged from the hospital. He was surprised to find he had exactly what he needed, and then some. As the men got Mikki into the ambulance, Doc gave a shot of something to Mya, hoping it wasn’t too late. He would start an IV drip on her later. Right now, Mikki required the most urgent attention.

Doc climbed aboard and went to work. He washed his hands and donned a pair of thin rubber gloves. He had always avoided latex, as many people had latex allergies. He asked Floyd if Mikki was allergic to anything, but Floyd had no idea. Doc grabbed a scalpel and tried to cut away the back half of Mikki’s jacket, but he barely made a dent in the fabric.

“What the hell is this fabric?” he grumbled aloud.

“Kevlar,” Floyd answered. “Fused with leather.”

“Of course it is!” the doctor complained. “Help me get this damn jacket off her. Watch her back! No telling how much shrapnel she’s taken or how far it got inside her.”

Floyd gently lifted her up and began pulling her arms out of the sleeves with Doc’s help. The back strap of her bra was gone so he pulled it off from the front. Doc noticed the holy cards Mikki had kept there and let out a
harumphfff
. Floyd noticed that she still had the rosary around her neck, so he removed that, too, and put in his pocket.

Fat lot of good all that God crap did for her!
Doc thought, looking at her lying shredded in front of him. He chose not to say anything though, so as not to upset Floyd, who had laid her back down and tucked the cards into his own jacket.

“Alright, you get out of here now,” Doc ordered.

“No, I want to stay,” Floyd protested.

“That wasn’t a request! I have work to do, and I can’t be looking over my shoulder wondering what stupid thing you’re going to do. Go find a place to wait somewhere and I’ll send for you when I’m done. I need to find every bit of metal in her body, and it’s not going to be pretty, so take a hike.”

Doc threw on a headpiece with a large magnifying glass that he positioned over one eye. He gave Mikki an injection and splashed some kind of antibiotic over her back, swabbing the area with gauze. Floyd stood transfixed, watching as Doc grabbed a long-handled forceps and began digging through the open wounds. He didn’t want to leave Mikki, but he couldn’t really stand to watch Doc excavating shrapnel out of her body, either.

“Go, dammit!” Doc yelled.

Floyd turned and walked away. Raul, Carlos and Jack were right there. Floyd didn’t even see them. The Freedom riders had gathered in a crowd, but Floyd was alone. He walked past them all, oblivious to any of the supportive comments of understanding that were thrown his way.

Floyd walked faster and faster. Finally, he broke into a run and jumped into the Doom Buggy. He drove like a demon back to the abandoned military camp. Skidding to a halt, he grabbed the grenade launchers Mikki had stashed in the back. The nuke grenade launchers.

Climbing up onto the trailer at the far end of the camp, Floyd read the instructions, popped open the launcher and aimed right at the hospital. He stood there, trying to pull the trigger. He tried and tried, but his finger wouldn’t obey. He couldn’t do it. He was frozen.

With tears streaming down his cheeks, he chose an alternative target. One at the opposite edge of the town. He fired and a miniature mushroom cloud rose into the air. He stood there like a mountain as a strong wind from the blast buffeted him. When he finally dropped the empty launcher, most of the town was gone. The only thing left was the area around the hospital.

“For you, Mikki.”

No matter what happened next, no matter what eventually happened to her, Floyd knew that Mikki would be proud of him. He blew something up.

Dropping down from the trailer, Floyd got an idea. He went to the smashed medical trailer. Grabbing a broom and mop that had been discarded in one corner, he cleaned up the place. Then he inspected all the gurneys and found a couple in good condition. He spent a couple of hours tearing apart the damaged ones for parts to rebuild a couple more. By the time he was done, he had four that were serviceable. He discarded the rest of the parts outside the trailer.

He needed something to do, and the work distracted him. It also was highly useful. The camp had power and the trailer was air conditioned, so this would be a good place for Mikki (and Mya) to recuperate. He finished making the place look presentable and jumped back in the Doom Buggy.

This time, when he entered the camp, he was able to actually look at people. He was still pretty shaken up inside, but he had a handle on his emotions now. He kept a nonstop silent prayer going in his heart that Mikki would be alright. If he ever questioned how much Mikki really meant to him before, that was more than obliterated now. He did not even want to think of living without her. He had said that to Mikki before, and he had meant it, but it was still just words, then. Now, the possibility that he might actually lose her was all too real.

What would happen if Mikki
did
die? He shuddered at the thought. They both knew it was a dangerous world. They faced the possibility of death every day, but until now, they had faced it together. Whatever happened, Floyd had always thought they’d go out together, as well. Somehow, that made death seem more tolerable.

His thoughts grew more and more absurd. Before he met Mikki, he was more than happy to be alone. He didn’t really trust anyone—especially women—so a solitary life suited him. Now, he was used to having Mikki around, and didn’t know how he would make it without her. Of course, if Mya survived, she would be all over him. Maybe he was supposed to be together with Mya? He could keep the F+M logo (Floyd and Mya).

Now that was just stupid. He loved Mikki and he didn’t want anyone else, even if Mya was closer to his age. More than likely, he would just go back to being a roving hermit. The Lone Ranger. But even the Lone Ranger had Tonto. Floyd without Mikki would be like bacon without eggs. Which reminded him that he hadn’t eaten at all today, but he wasn’t hungry anyway.

Floyd did his best to return the small talk directed at him, as he made his way through the camp on his way to the ambulance. Raul and Carlos followed him. They couldn’t really do anything for Floyd, but felt they needed to be near him, in case he needed something. Mya had been moved into the back of a pickup truck nearby.

Floyd took a quick look at her. She was no longer sweating and she looked a lot better. Some color was returning to her cheeks, and she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. That would ease Mikki’s conscience.

Assuming Mikki woke up.

And assuming Mya didn’t try to kill her when Mikki woke up.

And assuming Mikki didn’t finish killing Mya when they both woke up.

Floyd was suddenly sympathetic with Doc’s repugnance for people ripping into each other. On the other hand, Doc should think of it as job security. As one of the few doctors left alive, his services would always be in demand, one way or another.

“How is she, Doc?” Floyd asked sheepishly.

“I don’t know. I patched her up. Pretty sure I got all the shrapnel out of her, but she’s lost a lot of blood. It’s up to her now.”

Floyd noticed a change in Doc’s tone. The customary venom he had for Mikki was missing from his voice. He actually looked down at her lying there with a kind of sympathy…and sadness.

“Brave girl,” Doc said at last. “Brave, stupid girl.”

Floyd couldn’t really disagree. He appreciated the newfound respect Doc actually had for Mikki, but he was still mad at her for running off on her own. It
was
stupid. Why didn’t she just take him with her?

Of course, Floyd knew the answer to that as soon as he voiced it in his head. She wanted to protect him. She didn’t know if she would make it back alive, and didn’t want anything to happen to him. If she made it back, great. If she died, at least she knew Floyd would be safe.

That was Mikki. Brave? Yes. Noble? Yes. Stubborn? Yes. Utterly frustrating? You bet! And he loved her more than his own life. He would gladly trade places with her and be the one lying on that gurney. She just beat him to it.

“Got some good news for ya, Doc. I got a mini-hospital ready for you over at the military camp. Nice air-conditioned trailer. Buncha Super Zombies trashed it, but it was a medical facility. I cleaned it up. Still some good equipment there, and you can move whatever you have here inside. That way you can take care of both ladies and you won’t be so cramped.

If circumstances weren’t so grim, Floyd would have busted out laughing at the look on Doc’s face. A mixture of shock, hope, and “You’re shittin’ me.” It only took a moment for Doc to process the information and say, “Let’s get moving!”

Floyd asked Carlos to get Jack. When he arrived, Floyd explained the plan. Jack gave orders to break camp and within about 15 minutes, the Freedom Riders were on their way to the military outpost. The decision had been made for them. At least for now, Desert Station Zebra would be their new home.

Sounds. Not loud. Minor rustling. Occasional footsteps. Breathing. Beeping?

Light. Brightening. Disorientation fading. Light through closed eyelids. Trying to open.

“Where am I,” Mya asked.

Doc was instantly at her side. “Don’t try to get up! It’s Doc, Mya. You’ve been out for a while. We took over an abandoned military outpost. You’re in one of the trailers, recuperating.”

Doc knew the outpost wasn’t really “abandoned,” but there was no point getting into minute details at the moment. Her eyes fluttered open and Doc gripped her wrist to take her pulse. It was still weak, but stronger than before.

Her eyes eventually focused on Doc’s face. She could see lights in the ceiling above her. Everything around her seemed to be white. She had some wires attached to her that led to a machine. She presumed that was her heartbeat registering on the screen.

“What the hell is that bitch doing here?” Mya shouted lamely, as she tried to get up.

Doc laid his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down. He didn’t have to push hard, for the strength left her almost as suddenly as it had come. She got really dizzy when she sat up and was more than happy to lay down again, even if it was next to that double-bitch on the adjacent gurney.

“That ‘bitch’ saved your life!” Doc answered, firmly.

The shock and confusion was evident in Mya’s face.             

“That’s right!” Doc confirmed. “You were dying. You hear me? Dying! There was nothing I could do. I stitched up your wounds, but you got infected. You went into septic shock. I told Mikki and she snuck out to get to the hospital. She fought through hundreds of those creatures and even blew herself up with a grenade to get the medicine I needed to save you. So I don’t want to see any more crap between you two. Got it? You owe this young girl your life!”

Mya was stunned. No one had ever sacrificed anything for her before. Certainly not to the point of dying! Why would she do that?

She turned her head to look at Mikki, as if seeing her for the first time. She seemed so small and frail, gasping for air with ragged breaths. Where was that scrappy little bitch-warrior who had fought so viciously? Again she thought, why would Mikki save her? Mya sure as hell wouldn’t have stuck her neck out for Mikki. She would have taken the little bitch out and danced on her grave.

She felt something scratchy inside her shirt. Reaching inside, she pulled out a card with a picture of some girl on it. There was a prayer on the back about dying. What the hell?

“Doc, you give me this?”

Doc looked at the card and grunted with a grimace. “I don’t believe in that religious crap.”

“Then where did it come from?”

“From Mikki,” Floyd answered. He had just entered the trailer to check on Mikki after finally getting something to eat, and overheard the conversation. He pulled out the matching cards from his jacket. “It’s kinda Mikki’s thing. It’s Saint Margaret. Mikki identifies with her. Thinks she brings good luck or blessings or something.”

“Yeah,” Doc snorted. “Sure kept her safe in that hospital, didn’t it? Had to blow herself up and then hop up on Morphinol. I thought God People were supposed to walk through the shadow of death without a scratch. Handle poisonous snakes and such crap. Hmph!”

“She made it back alive, didn’t she?” Floyd retorted, feeling he had to defend her.

“Ha! Barely!”

“But she made it. She should have been dead. I call that a miracle.”

“Call it what you want. I’m a doctor, not a preacher, but I’ve performed hundreds of surgeries and I’ve never found the soul. I believe what I can see and touch. If a body’s broken, I fix it. If I can’t, praying a bunch of words isn’t going to help.”

“Well, I’ll keep praying anyway, if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself.”

“So, how is she, Doc?”

“Too early to tell. Sorry, Floyd, but she’s not out of the woods yet. She put her body through a lot of abuse. Near as I can tell, she must have curled up over the backpack and threw the grenades behind her. None of the medicine was damaged, but her back was a mess.

Some of the shrapnel went all the way through her. I had to pull some of it out from the front. Luckily, none of it pierced her heart. Pericardium was untouched. Poked a couple holes in one lung, though, and it collapsed. Pneumothorax. That’s why I have the oxygen tube under her nose.”

“Can I stay with her?”

“You got any problem with that, Mya?” Doc asked. She shook her head, still examining the holy card with a thoroughly puzzled look on her face. “Suit yourself,” Doc said again to Floyd, with a shrug.

Floyd pulled a chair over and sat next to Mikki. The way she was breathing scared the hell out of him, but after what Doc just said, he knew she was lucky to be breathing at all. He didn’t understand everything Doc had just told him, but he understood enough to appreciate that she was still alive. He gently took Mikki’s hand and touched it to his cheek. Then he kissed it, and started stroking it gently.

Kissing Mikki gently on the forehead, he whispered into her ear, “I’m here baby. It’s Floyd. You take your time and get well now, you hear? I ain’t goin’ nowhere without you, baby. Nowhere! Not without you!”

Floyd avoided looking at Mya, but as groggy as she still was, she watched his every move. She was fascinated by his devotion to Mikki. The way he spoke to her. The tender way he had kissed her. The loving way his fingers constantly traced their way across the back of her limp hand. The tears in his eyes that he could barely hold back.

Mya could almost hear his heart breaking. And yet, even shattered and lying on a table, Mikki was giving him strength. Strength to carry on. Strength to survive. A reason to live.

Mikki was loved, and that was something Mya had never known. She had known great sex and wild passion. She had engaged in some crazy escapades with men and even a couple of women, but no one had ever looked at her the way Floyd was looking now at Mikki. No one had ever cared about her that way. No one had ever loved her.

Where was Crazy Joe? Why wasn’t he by her side? Where were any of a dozen men who had told Mya they loved her. They all had said it. None had meant it. None had stayed around long enough to prove it. All had abandoned her at the first opportunity. They had all said how gorgeous she was, how hot she was, how wild she was in bed, but no one ever stuck around when life got the least little bit rough.

Suddenly, Mya felt alone. Truly alone. Alone and empty. No matter what happened to Mikki, she knew instinctively that she would never have a chance at Floyd. Which was probably for the best. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve to live. What did she really have to live for anyway? Mikki would have done her a favor if she had succeeded in killing her.

Mya looked at the card again. Some memory. Distant. A little girl in a church somewhere. She was maybe seven years old? Wedding of a cousin or somebody. Translucent saints smiling down placidly from stained glass windows. She remembered she was wearing a pretty white dress. It was a long, long time ago.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Floyd glancing in her direction. Their eyes locked, and she was terrified. The judgment! The anger! The hatred! But, no. There was none of that in Floyd’s eyes. Those feelings only came from inside of her. Floyd’s eyes simply showed…sadness. Tenderness. And…something else. Something else that Mya had never known. Forgiveness? A grim but tender hint of a smile curled up at the edges of Floyd’s lips. He gave her a slight nod, then turned his eyes and all of his attention back to Mikki.

Mya wanted to cry. She wanted to die. She wanted to…she didn’t know what. Her world was spinning madly around head. Mercifully, she faded into a dreamless slumber.