Read Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2) Online

Authors: S.P. Durnin

Tags: #zombie humor, #zombie survival, #zombie outbreak, #keep your crowbar handy, #post apocalyptic, #post apocalyptic romance, #zombie action adventure, #zombie romance, #Zombie Apocalypse, #post apocalypse humor

Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2) (24 page)

BOOK: Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2)
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“Poole—”


Needs must, when the Devil drives, Jacob.
Already, some of my compatriots have commented on her
attractiveness and, being a leader who tries to fulfill the needs
of his subordinates... Well. Let's say, unless something is
provided in her place, young Karen may yet remain pure of heart,
but she most certainly will not remain so in body.”

There was no way the writer could ask his
friends to give themselves up to this man. By using Karen as a
bargaining chip, Poole had proven he was not to be trusted. It was
a sure bet anyone entering his camp would be either enslaved, or
killed. No, the survivors would not be going to the Cincinnati Gas
and Electric Lake, to put themselves under the control of a lunatic
leading a group of white power sadists.

But he couldn't leave Karen to their tender
mercies either. There was no doubt that Poole would make good on
his threat. He'd seen the depths of human depravity displayed
already by Mike Barron, Nichole, and the moonshine fans that had
taken Gwen and Donna prisoner.

So he made a choice.

“Poole?”


Yes, Jacob?”

“One girl, no matter how much we may care
about her, isn't worth the lives of everyone else here,” Jake
replied. “You're not getting the transport and you're not getting
your hands on any of my people.”

The radio was silent for a few moments.

You do realize you're forcing me to consider the requests of my
men, don't you? I was quite serious when—”

Jake closed his eyes and leaned against the
console. “You're not getting any of my people or the Mimi. I didn't
say there wasn't something else I would be willing to trade.”

It was the Purifier's leader who laughed now.

What would that be? MREs? Weapons? Fuel for our vehicles? We
have more than enough of those, Jacob. What's more, there are
National Guard armories, army surplus stores and discount marts
everywhere, most of them still full. Granted, when the outbreak
hit, quite a few were looted, but many more remain untouched. We
have a trio of tanker trucks full of fuel that we can refill
periodically for a supply of both regular gasoline and diesel. Some
of my men who were mechanically inclined managed to get the
filtration systems in one of the pumping stations here working, so
we have a virtually unlimited water supply...”

“Do you have a way to last for two years,
minimum, until the military begins to retake the country?”

Poole seemed to be considering that.

Where did you come by that information?”

“That's for me to know,” Jake replied. “You
can take it as gospel, though. Two years, possibly more, before
there will even be an initial attempt made to secure more
territory. It depends on how quickly the men in charge can retrain
their soldiers. Hell, there may not be enough people
left
to
even attempt it at this point. They may have to wait until the
younger survivors mature to try.”


And this is the information you were
hoping to trade for Miss Parker's freedom?”
Poole asked.
“While it is quite useful in a forward-planning aspect, it's
nowhere near enough to convince me to disappoint my men and grant
her release.”

“That's why I'm going to give you more,” Jake
said. “A lot more. But if you want it, you're going to have to let
her go. You claim you know about me, so you know my word is
good.”

The radio was silent for so long, Jake
thought the Purifier's leader had gone off the air.


Let's talk about exactly what it is
you're offering...”
Poole said.

 

* * *

 

Laurel woke smelling bacon.

She stretched leisurely and reached out of
the sleeping bag she and Jake had shared that night for her
clothes. He, Rae, and Foster had finally deemed to halt their
evaluations of the satellite data around 9:00 pm, when everyone ate
together. While they were all worried about Karen and wanted to
rescue her
now
, the two fixers had deemed it necessary to
study the Purifier's nighttime routine. They might be able to find
a flaw in their defenses that could be exploited, but it would have
to wait until they could check the photos in the morning.

They'd all slept, except for whoever was on
the three hour guard shifts, spread throughout the Beechcraft’s
hangar. The redhead had lucked out and not drawn a watch that night
(something everyone hoped for). Jake had drawn the late shift from
4:00 am to 7:00 am, which was fine with him. He enjoyed being awake
when the sun came up and the world was just taking a breath.

That being the case, after they'd eaten
Laurel and Jake had gone to bed, and sleep had been the furthest
thing from their minds. They'd taken up residence in the other King
Air 200. After securing the hatch then zipping their sleeping bags
together, the two had taken all of a minute flat getting each other
undressed.

After their first few rounds of lovemaking,
the unruly-haired writer asked her what her plans were once they
reached the west coast, as she luxuriated on the bags and he had a
cigarette. She'd told him in no uncertain terms, was she going into
the holistic food industry again. Then he asked her if she'd
consider living in sin for, oh... the next thirty years or so. She
jokingly replied that idea sounded good, but she'd need some
assurances that he wouldn't take her for granted once they reached
safety. There were sure to be a lot of lonely women out west, and
how could she be sure Jake wouldn't grow bored with her, amidst all
those California tans and saline implants?

He'd stubbed his cigarette out on the
interior hull of the King Air, then proceeded to convince Laurel
otherwise.

After dressing, she climbed out of the
Beechcraft and headed for the camp stove they'd set up near the
front end of the hangar. Most of the others were still sacked out
across the echoing expanse and she could hear Foster's muted snores
coming from inside one of the offices as she headed for sweet,
sweet coffee. George's niece Beatrix and the blonde Gwen were
sitting on a nearby worktable. As she poured herself some of the
caffeinated goodness, she realized they were talking quietly with
each other about skin care alternatives. Laurel wasn't vain, but
she
did
want Jake to experience a moment of lust whenever he
looked at her (end of the world or not), so she moved to join
them.

“…so afterwards, you can crush it up and add
it to the Chapstick,” Bee finished.

Gwen looked thoughtful. “That's a pretty good
idea.”

“Hey girls,” Laurel said by way of greeting,
“what's up?”

“Post-apocalyptic beauty tips,” Gwen replied,
waggling eyebrows. “Our green-haired friend here was telling me
about how you can use charcoal for eye shadow. “

Laurel's brows went up. “Makes sense. How did
you know about that, Bee?”

Foster's niece grinned. “When you've got an
uncle like mine, you learn all
kinds
of whacked out stuff
most people would never even think about. Like did you know you can
use just plain, old lard as a moisturizer?”

“You're shitting me,” Gwen said.

“No, she's right. You can mix a small amount
with water, maybe some wild herb like lavender too, and it should
work fine,” Laurel told her. “I carried a brand at my store like
that. Kountry Kitchen Secrets, it was called.”

Bee bounced up and down excitedly while she
sat. “Oh, you've
got
to tell us more! Seriously!”

Laurel took a sip of her coffee. “You don't
really
want to hear about all that, do you? I mean, there's
lots of shampoos and soaps and stuff laying around everywhere. I
don't think there's going to be a shortage of Cover Girl or Revlon
any time in the near future...”

“Yeah, but we may not be able to
get
to it,” Bee pleaded, “or we may not have time to make a side trip!
Or maybe we just won't be able to convince the others to stop just
to pick up product!”

“Knowing your uncle, I can believe that,”
Gwen said wryly.

“Uncle George just
doesn't
understand
the need for maintenance.” Bee rolled her eyes. “He gets it when it
comes to machines, but has no clue when it comes to women. At his
age, too. I swear, he thinks we just roll out of bed looking this
good.”

Laurel was feeling decidedly self-conscious
at that point. She hadn't even brushed her hair yet. “Which reminds
me, do either of you have any shampoo or soap I can use over here?
I'll let you use mine next time. I just don't want to go digging
through the Mimi's stores for it.”

“Sure, just let... Wait a minute! Are you
telling me you haven't hit the bathroom yet?” Bee was staring at
her.

“Um, no...” she admitted, attempting to hide
behind her coffee. “Jake was up earlier on watch, and I figured I'd
just wait for him so we could... um... that was too much
information, wasn't it?”

Gwen was staring at her open-mouthed too.

“Guys, cut it out! I just woke up okay? I
know I look like crap.”

The two on the table looked at each other
calmly.

“See?” the blonde said.

George's niece nodded. “Till now, I wouldn't
have believed it.”

“Told you so. “

“What?” The redhead asked, looking back and
forth between them.

“Since we met? I honestly thought you were
one of those snooty, stuck-up bitches, who flaunted how hot they
were in everybody's face,” the green-haired girl admitted.

Laurel was speechless. “Bee, I would
never
—”

“No, no!” Beatrix said, waving her hands. “I
get it now. You honestly don't
know
how hot you are!”

It's not that Laurel didn't
try
to
pick her jaw up off the floor; it's that her brain was misfiring
and she just wasn't able to.

Foster's niece hopped down off the table and
to the woman's total surprise, hugged her quickly, almost making
her spill her coffee all over the both of them. “This is great! I
can't
wait
to start working on our makeovers!”

Laurel was both relieved by her reaction and
a little uncomfortable at how long the hug was lasting. The
green-haired girl's arms were surprisingly strong for her
five-foot, six-inch frame and she wasn't giving Laurel the normal
“girlie-lean” version, either. Bee mashed her body full-length
against the taller woman's, jiggling slightly as she squeezed them
together exuberantly. Jake's lover looked questioningly at Gwen,
still sitting on the workstation. The blonde gave her a smile and
shrugged, causing her breasts to rise slightly. That made her
very
aware of Bee pressing firmly up under her own, as she
pillowed the side of her face atop them in her excitement over
Laurel's
un-bitchyness
. Laurel felt more than a little
uncomfortable and escaped from the exuberant girl’s embrace as
quickly as she could.

Laurel patted Bee's shoulder awkwardly and
tried not to slosh her mug, until she finally released her. The
younger woman was smiling so widely, her head was in danger of
splitting in half.

“Let me check my stuff,” Bee said. “I'm
positive
I have some Paul Mitchell left.”

 

* * *

 

Rae walked through the access door almost an
hour later, just as Gwen and Foster's niece were finishing their
respective showers.

Laurel's hair was still damp and she'd given
up fighting the unruly lock for the moment, as she sipped another
cup of coffee. It was clear to her that the alluring woman was
upset about something. Rae stalked to their camp stove, grabbed one
of the metal cups, and sloshed a healthy amount of liquid bean
squeezings into it. She then stormed over to where Laurel sat and
plunked beside her on the worktable with a long, put-upon sigh.

“You know, I realize most male members of the
human race are slobs. I also realize that it
is
the
apocalypse and all, so already disorderly men won't feel much of a
need to
pick the
fuck up
after themselves. Do they
have to
intentionally
create more work though?” Rae
asked.

Laurel smiled. “I think it's a genetic
imperative. What allowed you to have this rather obvious
epiphany?”


Someone
rifled through the MREs
(which are now sitting in a pile on the floor next to the Mimi),
presumably to find the elusive sausage gravy pack,” Rae fumed.
“When I find out which of them did it...”

“How to you know it was one of the guys?” she
asked.

“Because they're the only ones who would
check in the Hummer,” she replied patiently. “When you and Maggie
and I went through the stores at my place? We put them all in the
Mimi. The only ones that went in the Humvee were beef stew,
chicken-a-la-king, chili-mac, and beans n' franks.”

“It could be one of the guys I suppose,”
Laurel admitted, nodding and putting some Nivea on her arms. She'd
never had a problem using whatever moisturizer happened to be handy
at the time, but was thankful Bee had some of her favorite. Both
her elbows and knees were a little carpet-burned and sensitive this
morning. Jake loved it when she moved on top of him and... She
tried not to think about it at that moment. She'd just had a shower
and this evening was a long way off. “Then again, the new members
of the group wouldn't know we did that either. Who do you think it
was?”

“I'd have said George, if he weren't still
asleep,” Rae replied, with a meaningful look towards the sounds of
the fixer, still sawing logs inside the nearby office.

The redhead chuckled. “Either Kat or Elle
could've done it too. Our good, blonde Sergeant is none too neat
herself and while I love my roommate like a sister, I also
know
her.”

“Great.” Rae put her chin in her palm. “How
do we figure out who the culprit is then?”

BOOK: Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2)
6.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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