Rocky Mountain Die (9 page)

My head hurts.

“I bet it does,” Cassie says, all smirks and shit. “That was out loud, by the way.”

“Yeah, thanks,” I say.

“Okay, you aren’t one to be swayed easily, Jace. I get that,” Cassie says. “I respect that. But can I ask you a question?”

“Can I stop you?”

“In your current condition? No,” Cassie says. “If it came down to saving you or saving one of your kids, maybe both of your kids, what choice would Elsbeth make?”

“Your right! Your right! YOUR RIGHT!” Elsbeth screams.

“Shut up! I got it!” Charlie yells back.

There’s a distinct grinding of metal. This is good. Very good.

“Answer the question, Jace,” Cassie says.

“I can’t stop you from asking the question, but you also can’t force me to answer it,” I say.

“I don’t really need you to answer it,” Cassie says. “I know the answer. She’d save your kids. Not even a question, really.”

“I’d want her to,” I say. “Stella would want her to. That’s basic parenting.”

“But Elsbeth isn’t a parent,” Cassie says.

There’s a rapid succession of gunshots then silence except for a few whacks and the never-ending Z groans.

“You are sitting on borrowed time, Jace,” Cassie says. “Elsbeth knows it and she is already moving on.”

“You keep saying the same thing, but with different words,” I reply. “Still not convinced.”

Stella and Stuart are yelling at the top of their lungs just as the floor starts to shake. My wheelchair stutters across the dusty wood laminate flooring. I move probably two feet, almost falling over, before my ears are filled with the massive shrieking of metal tearing loose from anchors in concrete, steel and wood.

“See! They did it!” I yell, but Cassie can’t hear me. God can’t hear me over the noise. “Fuck you, bitch!”

The entire building shakes as the escalators collapse under dead weight. See what I did there? Dead weight? Gold, baby, gold.

Then the second floor turns into nothing but a dust cloud. A rather nasty-tasting dust cloud. I try to clamp my mouth shut, but the dust gets up my nose and down my throat. A distinct flavor of concrete, some definite mold and mildew, followed by a hint of Z dandruff and decay. Yum.

I can hear people coughing and coming my way, which is good because being blind in a dust cloud with a stone cold killer by you isn’t the best feeling. Sure, she’s tied up, but still.

“Jace? You alright?” Stella calls out. I can just make out her form as she staggers through the dust. “Ow! Fucking shelf.”

“Watch out for those, baby,” I say. “They’ll get ya.”

“We did it,” Charlie grins as soon as he is close enough for me to see him.

His eyes are watering from the dust and his nose is running. Most of him is covered in Z gore, but he has a huge smile on his face so I know he didn’t get bitten or anything.

Stella is right behind him, followed by Stuart and Elsbeth. They all wave their arms to try to clear some of the dust cloud out of the way.

“Jace?” Stella says as they get a couple feet from me. “Where’s Cassie?”

Two words I don’t want to hear. I try to turn my head and look for her, but pain rockets down my spine like a hammer hitting a carny game at the fair.

“Shit,” Stuart snaps. “One job, Long Pork. One fucking job.”

I also notice something else missing.

“Where’s the bat?” I ask.

Elsbeth starts to whirl around, but it’s too late. The missing bat smacks her square in the face and she goes down hard.

Cassie steps between Stuart and Stella and whirls the bat in her hand.

“Now,” she grins. “Who’s up first?”

Stuart ducks quickly and throws a punch at Cassie’s midsection, but she blocks it by bringing a leg up then smacks his forearm with the bat. There’s a distinctive ring of aluminum on bone and Stuart cries out, cradling his arm as he falls backwards onto his ass.

Stella comes at Cassie, her empty pistol whipping through the air. But that’s all it does. It whips through empty air and Stella almost loses her balance as she whiffs over a ducking Cassie. Cassie pulls a Stuart and punches my wife in the belly. Stella doubles over and catches a second punch to the jaw which sends her down onto Elsbeth.

“This didn’t have to happen,” Cassie says as she grabs Stella by the hair and yanks her head up. “I gave you a chance, Jace. If you’d let me go I would have protected you.”

“You obviously didn’t need my help,” I say. “So how about you let my wife go and we call it even?”

“What, and give you something for free? I don’t think so,” Cassie laughs. She chokes a little on the dust. “Damn. That is gross.”

A shadow moves in the dust cloud and I realize Charlie is no longer by me. Cassie lets go of Stella just before the blade whips by. She rolls backwards, slamming an elbow into Stuart’s spine as she moves by, you know, just for shits and giggles, then comes up on her feet, bat in hand, and murder in her eyes. Or that could be Z dust in her eyes. Probably both.

“You really think you can take me, kid?” Cassie asks. “Do you?”

Charlie doesn’t take the bait. He drifts back into the safety of the dust cloud and is lost from sight.

“I know where you are, boy,” Cassie says. “My senses are stronger than yours ever will be. I’m not like normal people.”

“Me neither,” Charlie says as he comes in fast behind her. His blade catches her shirt and she cries out as she jumps out of the way of his backswing.

“Ha! Good one!” Cassie says. “That was impressive!”

I look for my son, but he’s gone again. Stella starts to crawl towards me, but she catches a boot to her chin and is down for the count. I’m pretty sure I heard a crunch. God, I hope her jaw isn’t broken. How will she tell me to shut up when I need to be told to shut up? Also, the eating thing. Broken jaws make the eating thing hard.

“Out loud, Jace,” Cassie says. “Charlie! Just come out!” She waits then looks over at me. “He’s not coming out.”

“Nope. Don’t think he is,” I say. “Maybe call it a night and move on? Pretty sure I saw a Target nearby that you can haunt. Bail now and you might be able to beat the morning rush hour traffic.”

“Shut up, Jace,” Cassie says.

“Not cool,” I reply. “Only my wife gets to tell me to shut up. I made that clear in my involuntary external dialogue that was meant to be internal. Keep up, crazy lady. Life with the Stanfords isn’t that hard to figure out.”

Cassie stalks over to me, her baseball bat looking particularly mean. She lifts it up and starts to swing it, but doesn’t quite make it as her legs go out from under her. Stuart was able to shift his position and trip her up. Which was awfully nice of him. I should get him a gift card. Maybe to Barnes & Noble? You know, since we’re right here. One should always be practical in the apocalypse. And frugal. I bet they’re on sale.

Charlie comes out of nowhere and his blade plunges down at Cassie, but she swipes it aside with her bat then swings back and nails him in the ribs. Ow, that hurts.

Stumbling back, Charlie loses his grip on his blade as he staggers against a set of shelves. Cassie sees her opportunity and scrambles for the blade, but she’s stopped short as Charlie begins flinging copies of Anne of Green Gables at her. There are a lot of copies of Anne of Green Gables on the shelf. Maybe it was a kiddie book club selection right before the dead rose up and started eating mommy and daddy? Who fucking knows?

Who fucking cares?

Cassie catches a book and flings it back at Charlie which in turn clips Charlie in the temple. He sways a bit then goes down on one knee.

“Fight it, Charlie!” I yell. “Don’t pass out! You can keep fighting!” Says the guy that passes out like every ten seconds and shit.

Cassie is up on her feet and going after Charlie. She grabs him by his coat and lifts him into the air. Now, Cassie is a long-legged woman, but she’s not as tall as my son. The boy has hit his final growth spurt and is taller than me now. Cassie doesn’t seem to give twelve shits about the height difference.

“I asked your dad if there was a choice of saving you or him, which choice would Carly make,” Cassie says. “Too bad she’s not awake to make that choice.”

With one hand she holds my son up, which is pretty freaking crazy, and with the other hand she reaches down her pants and pulls out a snub-nosed pistol. I do not want to know where she was keeping that. Okay, maybe I want to know a little. I mean, come on. If you look at the pistol, think of the size of that and the size of her—

“Shut up!” Cassie roars. “I am going to kill you or your son, Jace! Stop talking and tell me which one it’s going to be!”

“Oh, I get to choose? That’s easy,” I say. “Kill me. Bullet right between my eyes. Or in my heart. Or in my heart and between my eyes. Can you bend your shot like in that movie? What was it called? It was a graphic novel too.”

“Wanted,” Elsbeth says as she stands up and stabs her blade through Cassie’s shoulder. “No, you can’t bend shots, Long Pork. Don’t be stupid.”

Cassie screams and drops Charlie. She whirls around and fires twice, sending Elsbeth diving towards me.

Then she’s gone. Cassie, not Elsbeth. El is leaning up against my legs looking really pissed.

“She took my blade,” Elsbeth says as she gets to her feet. “That sucks ball shit.”

“Ball shit? That’s a new one,” I say. “And I don’t think she meant to take your blade on purpose. It was kind of stuck in her shoulder and shit.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Elsbeth says. “I’ll get a new one.”

She picks Charlie up and dusts him off.

“You alive?” she asks him.

“Yeah,” Charlie mutters. “Wish I didn’t hurt all over.”

“Welcome to my world, son,” I say. “It’s ten times worse when you get older. Enjoy your youthly ability to recover now.”

“Still fucking hurts,” he frowns. “Mom?”

“Mmmmm,” Stella moans.

“She took a hard hit to the jaw,” I say. “May not be able to speak.”

“I can speak,” Stella mutters. “Just doesn’t feel good to do so.”

“Stuart? You good?” I ask.

“No,” Stuart says. “But I’ll get there. Where’d the bitch go?”

“She’s gone,” Elsbeth says.

“How do you know?” Stuart asks.

“I know,” Elsbeth says. “She’s gone. Gotta go lick her wounds. We’ll see her again.”

I almost think I hear anticipation in Elsbeth’s voice. Oh, who am I kidding, I totally hear anticipation in Elsbeth’s voice. She’s liking this. It’s a game to her, catching her sisters.

“What?” Elsbeth asks. “What did you say, Long Pork?”

Shit. Talking out loud again.

“Dad?” Charlie asks, suddenly in my face. He looks scared. Why? The crazy lady is gone. “Dad!”

Huh. Feels like the floor is shaking again. Maybe more of the escalator is coming apart.

Double huh. Why is my lap wet? What’s that smell? Is that piss? Is that
my
piss?

Oh, fucking A. The floor isn’t shaking. I am. Motherfucker…

Chapter Four

No clue if it’s day or night when I come to, but I can tell we’re still in the Barnes & Noble.

“How did Cassie get me to talk?” I ask.

“Those are your first words?” Stella sighs, her hand stroking my forehead. “You have a seizure and pass out for an hour and the first words you say to me are about some crazy woman?”

“Sorry,” I smile. “Thought loop. My unconscious brain was trying to work it out.”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Stuart says, coming into view. “How did she know your trigger words?”

“Don’t matter now,” Elsbeth says. “We need to get out of here.”

“Charlie? Help me get your father back into the wheelchair,” Stella says. “We need to get him to the stairs.”

“Oh, hey, I fell out of my chair,” I say as they get me up on shaky legs. I also peed myself, but none of us talk about that. “Wait. Stairs? Is it clear below?”

“No,” Stuart says. “It’s getting worse. But that isn’t the problem.”

“It’s not?” I say. “What problem is bigger than that?”

“Zs are climbing,” Elsbeth says as she comes up to us, bloody baseball bat in hand. “They ain’t so good at it, but don’t have to be good, just have to climb.”

“I’m sorry, did you say the Zs are climbing?” I laugh. “Climbing how?”

“Hand over hand, foot over foot,” Stuart says. “They’re grabbing onto the support pillars and going for it. Not good.”

“Okay, stop fucking with me,” I say. “Zs can’t climb. They can barely walk. Up is safe. That’s one of the zombie apocalypse rules. Up is safe. I spent a long time in a pitch dark cave on a rock proving that concept. We’ve all spent time in trees, on roofs, on top of trucks proving that concept. The concept has been proven.”

“Up ain’t safe no more,” Elsbeth says.

I look around and realize they are not shitting me.

“Fuck,” I say.

“Yep,” Stuart nods. “We’re a few steps ahead of you on the realization front. Fuck is 100% right.”

“Climbing?” I mutter. “No fucking way.”

“Accept it,” Charlie says, patting me on the cheek, “and move on.”

They help me into my wheelchair and Charlie pushes me through the debris as we head towards the restrooms and the back stairs. We have to steer past a pile of bookshelves and get a little closer to the second floor railing than I’d like. Being a sitting Jace is no fun when you find out that Zs can climb.

I glance to my side and see daylight filtering in through the collapsed front doors. Along with hundreds of Zs. Hundreds. They are packed shoulder to shoulder as they try to wedge through the store entrance. The whole first floor is nothing but undead. A thousand zombies strong, all wandering about and bumping into the last vestiges of bookseller commerce.

It’s a scene I’ve witnessed before. What I haven’t witnessed is how some of the Zs start climbing up over each other, their rotted faces looking right at me, their mouths open and hissing as they try to get just a couple feet closer to my delicious Jaceness.

There is one other aspect I notice. Some of them are moving a lot faster than the others. Pushing through like tweens trying to get the latest Twilight book at a midnight sale. We being the Twilight books in the metaphor.

“Stuart?” I ask.

“I know,” he replies before I even finish. “There are fast ones.”

“Not supposed to be fast ones,” Elsbeth says. “Zombies are slow. They walk slow, they hunt slow, they are slow.”

“Well, some of these Zs are doing their own thing,” I reply. “Some of these Zs are not quite the same.”

A memory pushes through my sliced and diced brain matter.

“I’ve seen them move like that before,” I say. “That night we all had the shits and pukes.”

“Not all of us had the shits and pukes,” Stuart says.

“Yes, some of us had to clean up the shits and pukes,” Stella frowns.

“Regardless of our status, whether we were shitters and pukers or the cleaners of, we lost two RVs that night because Zs were acting like they were on crank,” I continue. “They moved fast and took out those vehicles before anyone knew what was happening.”

“I remember,” Stuart says. “I didn’t quite believe it then.” He looks down at the swarm of Zs and the ones shoving and pushing, hurrying from one vantage point to another. “I do now.”

“Nope,” Elsbeth says and takes the head off a Z that has just climbed up to the railing. The headless corpse tumbles away. “No, you don’t.”

“Here are the stairs,” Stella says as we get past the bathrooms to the stairwell door. She begins to push the door open then stops, her hand going to her nose. “We have bodies.”

Charlie stops pushing me. He and Stuart move to the door with Elsbeth right behind them. They do a silent three count then shove the door open. The stench is ripe and strong. I gag a little and try not to puke. Stella has to turn away and throw up the little food she’s eaten. I’ll need to remind her to eat something later. You can’t go far on an empty stomach in the apocalypse.

“These are fresh,” Stuart says. “Only a week or so old. Help me get them clear of the door.”

Charlie starts dragging the bodies out. The gasses that have built up in the corpses begin to let loose and so does my stomach. Bye bye, dog food.

“Jesus,” Charlie coughs. “These are people, not Zs.”

“Head wounds,” Stuart says as he covers his mouth and examines the bodies. “Bite marks on the arms and legs. They took themselves out before they could turn. Ballsy.”

He rifles through the corpses’ clothes and packs, handing Charlie a couple of hunting knives and three pistols, all revolvers.

“Two cartridges,” Charlie says as he starts breaking open the revolvers’ cylinders. “Three in this one and five in this one.”

“Poor bastards didn’t even get all their shots off,” Stuart says.

“As much as I want to mourn the dead, we need to get upstairs,” Stella says.

“Hold on,” Elsbeth says and rushes past us up the stairs to the door to the roof. “Jammed.”

“Can you get it open?” Stuart asks.

Elsbeth tosses the bat down the stairs and Charlie catches it. Nice. She pulls her remaining blade and kicks the roof door open. It swings out fast and several Zs try to scramble in at her. Too bad for them that is exactly what Elsbeth wanted them to do.

Eight Z heads come tumbling down the stairs to us.

“Clear,” Elsbeth says and keeps going.

She’s lost from sight, leaving us to stare at the Z heads and the people corpses. Then all eyes turn to me.

“Wheelchair,” I say.

“Come on,” Stuart sighs. “You can get on my back. I’ll carry you up there.”

“It’ll be easier to carry the wheelchair like you did up the escalator,” I reply. “I’ll break your back.”

There’s a crunching sound and Charlie turns quickly, bat raised.

“Zs coming,” he says and steps away from us.

I twist around and watch him crack open three Z heads then kick the bodies back over the railing. He sprints back to us.

“A couple dozen are climbing up,” he says. “We need to go now.”

“Cover our backs,” Stuart says then crouches in front of me.

I sigh and lean forward, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and neck. He stands slowly, grunting from my weight, but I don’t snap his spine, so that’s a plus. Slowly, he takes each step at a time. I hear Charlie grunt also as he and Stella get the stairwell door closed. There are some loud slams against the door as Zs ram it from the other side.

“Won’t hold long,” Charlie says.

“Neither will my back,” Stuart grumbles as he makes it the last few steps then lowers me to the landing next to the roof door. “How much do you fucking weigh, Long Pork?”

“Fuck you,” I snap.

“Roof is clear,” Elsbeth says as she peeks in at us. “What are you doing on the ground? Dumb place to be.”

Then she’s gone in her enigmatic Elsbeth way.

“Here,” Stella says as she sets the wheelchair next to me. “Your chariot.”

“Oooh, can we have races later?” I ask. “Go all Ben-Hur on the Zs and shit?”

“Yes, Jace, that sounds like a very practical thing to do,” Stella sighs and walks past me.

I think she’s being sarcastic.

“I am,” she says.

Dammit. Out loud.

“Uh, I’ll get him up in the chair,” Charlie says. “I got it. All by myself.”

“Thanks, son,” I grin as he helps me to my feet and into the wheelchair. He wheels me out onto the roof and I instantly have to clamp my jaws shut to keep from chattering.

“Fuck me,” Charlie says. “We aren’t going to last long up here.”

“Probably why those bodies were down there,” Stuart says. “Staying warm before they figured out what they had to do.”

Elsbeth is standing on the ledge of the roof, looking down, framed by the rising sun and a clear blue sky. At least the snow has stopped. Of course, a clear, Colorado winter day is not really much better. Clouds hold the heat in. With them gone, the air is probably ten degrees colder than when it was snowing. My temp guess? Zero. A big, whopping zero degrees Fahrenheit.

And windy as all fuck.

“Where’d the bodies come from?” Charlie asks. “I mean the people before they were bodies. They’re recent.”

“If we’d had more time we could have looked for clues,” Stuart says as he holds his hand out. “Bat me.”

“That’s my bat,” Elsbeth says, turning away from the ledge and stepping back down onto the roof proper. “I like that bat.”

“We need to brace the door handle,” Stuart says as Charlie hands him the bat. “This fits perfectly.”

I can see the conflict on Elsbeth’s face before she shrugs and turns away.

“I’ll find another,” she says. “And more blades. Need more blades. Wonder where I can get more blades?”

“At the blade store?” I suggest.

“No blade stores, Long Pork,” she replies. “Gun store. They have blades. Hunting store, they have blades.”

“Pawn shops,” Charlie suggests. “They have guns and blades. You always see katanas and shit in pawn shops.”

“You used to,” I say. “Before the zombies showed up. Then every samurai wannabe grabbed a fucking ninja sword and got themselves killed.”

“Martial arts studios,” Stuart says. “Or military supply shops. But those will be well-past looted by now. We find a kung fu studio and there will be swords and other weapons there.”

“Jesus, why didn’t I ever think of that?” I ask. “Melissa didn’t think of it either back when she was in charge of the Whispering Pines scavengers. There were like six studios on Merrimon Avenue alone, plus another three over on Charlotte Street.”

“Always good to have weapons out in the field if you need them,” Stuart says. “That’s why I didn’t mention it to her.”

The stairwell door shudders and Stuart jumps back, holding up one of the revolvers scavenged off the corpses.

“Not going to hold long,” he says. “Look for more materials to brace it with.”

Charlie and Stella hurry around the roof, hunting for anything they can pry loose to use to brace the door. It takes them less than five minutes to realize there is nothing.

I notice Elsbeth staring off to the East, watching the horizon. The sun is bright as shit, which is sending daggers of pain into my head. Nope, sorry, more like motherfucking broadswords of pain into my head. I’m getting a little nauseous from the bright light and the pain.

“Dot,” Elsbeth says.

“Excuse me?” I ask, closing my eyes.

“Dot coming this way,” Elsbeth says.

“A dot is coming this way?” I ask.

“That’s what I said, Long Pork,” Elsbeth replies, obviously frustrated with me.

“Sorry,” I say. “I really just can’t open my eyes right now.”

I hear the roof door shudder again and the unmistakable sounds of Z hands smacking against the other side.

“There is a dot coming at us in the sky,” Elsbeth says. “It’s getting bigger.” She says all that like I’m a four year old.

“Big dot? Little dot?” I ask.

“Red dot, blue dot,” Charlie says from my side, making me jump a little. “Sorry.” He pats me on the shoulder. “Shit. I see it too.”

“What is it?” Stella asks. Sounds like the whole gang is by me.

“Chopper,” Stuart says from across the roof. Okay, the whole gang minus Stuart is by me. “That can’t be good. Only one group would have a chopper.”

“My mother,” Elsbeth says. “Shit farts.”

“True dat, homegirl,” I say. “Shit farts indeed.”

“Do we hide?” Charlie asks. “Not that there is any place to hide.”

“They’re coming right for us,” Stuart says. “My guess is they have spotters in the city already and we’ve been spotted.”

“Whatcha doing over there, Stuart?” I ask.

“Looking for a way down,” he replies.

“Find one?”

“Do I look like I found one?”

“I have my eyes closed because of the sun and the brain surgery and shit,” I reply.