The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) (16 page)

BOOK: The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series)
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“I’m okay, Shirley,” he grunted.
“No, you’re not okay, Charlie. She almost killed you. How exactly does that make you okay?”
“Look, Shirley,” said Miller. She now held the gun loosely at her side, pointing down at the hall carpet. “Down shift, okay? I don’t want to have to kick your ass next, but I will if I have to.”
“Don’t you patronize me,” Shirley screeched. “You come into our home, take our supplies, and then try to kill my man? Charlie had every right to blow your head off from across the room. Christ, you lousy scavengers are worse than the damn zombies!”
Rat spoke first. “Threatening our leader isn’t going to get you very far when I start doling out the canned beans tonight.”
“Those are
my
canned beans, damn you!” Shirley turned to Charlie. “Aren’t you going to do something this time?”
“I tried doing something before, and it nearly got me killed. I’m calling a truce.” Charlie stopped rubbing his neck. He studied Miller admiringly. “I have to say, Penny, you sure have been eating your spinach. I knew you were top of the class in hand-to-hand combat back at the police academy, but you never could take me before.”
“Charlie,” Miller said, “the last time we wrestled, I don’t remember you bringing along a .357, or wearing any clothes, for that matter.”
“Whoa!” shouted Scratch “You mean this is
that
Charlie? Charlie Robinson, the dead Sheriff from out here in Elko?”
“You bet your ass it is,” said Brandon. “But he doesn’t look all that dead, or undead for that matter.”
They all turned to look at Brandon. “How the hell do you know Charlie again, Brandon?” Miller asked. “Enlighten us.”
Brandon glared at Charlie Robinson. “Should I tell them, Charlie?”
“Tell us what?” said Sheppard, Miller, Scratch and Shirley, all pretty much simultaneously. This was getting to be a routine of sorts.
“Up to you if you want to tell them,” said Charlie. “It kind of looks like we’re all going to be buddies now.”
Scratch muttered. “I wouldn’t count on that, fucker.”
“Tell us what?” This time the question came from little Shirley, who had been taking Brandon’s measure. Her pale complexion turned pink. Miller began to wonder if she might have tuberculosis.
Brandon looked away from Charlie and faced Miller. “Looks like you and I have something in common, Penny. The last time
I
wrestled with Charlie, there were no guns either, but there was a bottle of whisky, some baby oil, and a water bed.”
Silence followed. Charlie gave Miller a sheepish grin. As for Miller, she couldn’t get her jaw back into the proper position. Shirley seemed just as stunned.
“Man, what a lousy day, huh, Charlie?” said Rat, after a time. “You got your ass kicked by a girl and you got yourself outed, and all in the space of about five minutes. That’s kind of fucked up.”
Miller couldn’t look Scratch in the eye. She covered her own surprise by firing off a one-liner. “Hey, I seem to recall kicking your ass just the other day, Rat. So I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t go around calling me a girl. Do we have ourselves a deal?”
Rat simply winked back. She was enjoying the soap opera.
Rolf, who was still guarding Charlie, said, “O Chosen One?”
Miller looked his way. “You don’t have to call me that anymore, you know.”
“As you wish,” he said, a disappointed look on his face. “But I do need to report that Walter claims we are missing one of our party.”
“Who?” Miller counted heads. Then she remembered. “Christ, where is Vanessa?”
Sheppard said, “Oh, damn.”
Scratch said, “Uh oh.”
Miller snapped out of her reverie. She took charge at once. “Shit! Rat, Scratch, you’re with me.” She handed the .357 to Sheppard. “Karl, Brandon, and Rolf, stay here with Charlie and Shirley. And make sure they don’t get any ideas. I don’t want them causing any more trouble, at least not until I can find out what the hell is going on. Charlie, do you have any more ammo for the hand cannon?”
Charlie seemed glad to have the subject changed. He reached into one of his pockets, and pulled out three more rounds. “I’ve got a few extra bullets in our room too, but take it easy, there’s probably only another ten rounds left in the whole damn building.” Sheppard held out his hand, and Charlie put the rounds into it.
Miller headed down the stairs, followed closely by Rat and Scratch. They knew the risks and had come to anticipate her decisions. No one spoke until they reached the ground level. Then they moved double time. Dust and sand flew up from the carpet as they rushed by.
“Where was she when we last saw her?” asked Miller.
Rat shook her head. “I don’t know. On the escalator, I think.”
Scratch picked up the pace and stayed even with them. They crossed the casino floor and went into the main lobby. There was no sign of Vanessa.
“Where do you suppose she is?” Rat said. “Do you think she was dumb enough to just wander off?”
“Let’s retrace our steps coming in,” Miller said. “Start with the front door.”
They all turned that direction, moving into the glow of the setting sun. The warmth was still comforting, but night was fast approaching. The temperature would drop precipitously and in fairly short order. Miller pondered how close she had come to getting killed today. It wasn’t the first time that her life had been in danger, but it was the most recent, though it surely would not be the last. The last few minutes had rattled her cage. This was by far the most unexpected turn of events that she could recall in recent days.
Charlie Fucking Robinson…?
They all arrived at the front of the casino and fanned out. Miller looked out at the parking lot, with all the dusty cars with rotting skeletons parked neatly in each numbered spot. A few vehicles had been squashed, and those also had tread marks on them. Miller thought it looked kind of like a tank had come through, if not a monster truck. Some fire had rained down. And that would certainly explain why the front half of the building was missing. So the Army had sent in the tanks and artillery.
Jesus, there must have been one hell of a battle here. But once again, the living ultimately lost…
“Hey,” said Scratch. “I think I know what happened to Vanessa.” He was standing in the doorway staring out at the parking lot. His shoulders sagged. Miller could feel his frustration. A cool breeze rustled his dusty clothing.
“What’s that?” Rat asked. She was watching their back, not looking.
Instead of answering, Scratch just stared at Miller, who nodded and sighed. Rat turned and studied Miller’s face, realizing that she was missing something obvious. “Well, what happened? Where is she?”
Miller just pointed outside.
The SUV that they had arrived in was missing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Son of a bitch!” Rat said, without much enthusiasm. “She hijacked our ride.”
As for Scratch, he had the gall to smile. “It works better if you say it all at once, Rat. Like this.
Sonofabitch!

Rat snapped back. “I do
not
need swearing lessons from you, biker boy. I was in the motherfucking Army, remember?”
“I always heard it was the sailors who really know how to swear, Francine.”
Rat balled her fists. “What the fuck is your problem, Scratch. Why are you all up in my shit?”
Miller stepped between them. “Would you two clowns just cut it out? You’re wasting precious time. We have a real situation here.” She half expected each to accuse the other of ‘starting it first,’ but instead they just glowered. When Miller was reasonably sure that they weren’t going to start fist fighting, she walked a few steps and went out into the parking lot. “Well, I guess we’re definitely spending the night here.”
“Sure looks that way, Penny.” Scratch said. He came to stand next to her. “This is my fault,” he said. “I shoulda taken her keys.”
“It’s not your fault, Scratch. It’s mine. I’m the one should have thought of it. I trusted her. Look where that got us.”
Scratch caught her eyes. He had a strange look on his face. But it was Rat who said, “It is your fault, you know, Penny.”
Miller’s head snapped around. “Say that again?”
Rat shrugged. “In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never learned to delegate. You give assignments, you give orders, but you don’t give responsibilities. This is a hell of a time for a leadership lesson, Penny, but you might as well make the most of it.”
Miller stared at Rat, speechless. It wasn’t that she couldn’t find the words. It was that she knew Rat was right.
Scratch looked away from her, so she couldn’t see his expression.
“Let’s go back inside and tell the others.” She headed back into the building.
Scratch followed dutifully. Rat joined them, but stayed a few yards behind. Miller studied Scratch.
“We will have to find more transportation,” Miller said after a moment. “I remember that there’s a big parking garage under the casino. The fight probably didn’t get that far. All we need is one gate or driveway that stayed open. Maybe there’s something still working down there on a lower level.”
“Maybe they have a lantern or something.” Rat didn’t have to explain who ‘they’ were.
Scratch snorted. “Oh, that’s just great. I can see it now. It’ll be pitch black down below, with us distracted by looking into cars for one that works, and a whole fucking herd of zombies will sneak up on us in the dark and consume our quivering flesh. Meanwhile your old lover Sheriff Charlie Robinson and Miss whatever the hell her name was will sit upstairs and look out at the desert scenery and eat dried fruit from plastic bags.” Scratch was fuming. “No, I don’t fucking think so. It’s a
bad
idea.”
Miller nodded. “Okay, you got a point there, Scratch. Some sunlight would be good. We’ll do it in the morning.”
They headed back into the empty building. The lobby was already filled with long fingers of shadow. Like most casinos, this one didn’t have windows on the casino floor—that gave the place a kind of timelessness, which had made it easier for the suckers to gamble away the rent money well into the night. Darkness could be a friend to a fan of the one-armed bandit and the card table, but right now it wasn’t doing them any good at all. They hurried across the casino, all three of them very conscious of nightfall and the terrors it might bring. The room closed in like a fist as they reached the frozen escalators.
“Sheppard?” Miller called.
A voice came from the second floor. “Here, Penny.”
“Report.”
“Nothing exciting,” Sheppard called. “You were probably about half an inch off from killing your ex-boyfriend, but he’s going to live.”
“Good,” Miller said, without conviction.
“Where’s Vanessa?” Brandon asked.
Scratch spoke first. “She has become one with the four winds.”
Sheppard poked his head above the railing. “She’s gone?”
“And the SUV. And what was left of our supplies.” Miller headed up the escalator. “Find out where they’ve been holing up. We’ll retreat to their lair and regroup there.”
“Copy that.”
Outside, the desert rapidly turned dark and the broken windows allowed a rush of cold air into the building.
Charlie Robinson was sitting on a bench near the railing of the second floor. Shirley knelt next to him, speaking soothingly in his ear. Sheppard and Brandon waited patiently. Meanwhile, Rolf was standing guard. He kept playing with a trinket on a string around his neck. Whatever it was he’d been chewing on all this time. He was muttering to himself again. Dudley was lying on the floor. He raised his head when Miller and the others approached and whined a brief hello. Rolf turned to face them.
“O Chosen One?”
The name was grating on her, but the guy was decidedly bat shit, so Miller opted not to fight it. “Yes, Rolf?”
“Walter and I have been discussing the situation. We are concerned that we are way too light on supplies. As a matter of fact, Dudley hasn’t eaten all day, and frankly neither have Walter and I.”
“Who’s Walter?” asked Shirley, confused.
Everyone shushed her with a sense of urgency. Charlie Robinson looked around. He studied Rolf and seemed to catch on fast. He shushed her too.
“Karl,” said Miller, “is the patient ambulatory?”
Sheppard nodded. “Yes, Penny, he can go wherever you say he can.”
Miller turned to Charlie. “Charlie, it looks like we’re having a campout tonight. Lead the way.”
Charlie stood up.
“You can’t be serious.” Shirley turned to Charlie. “You’re not actually going to do what she says, are you?”
“If there’s one thing I know about Penelope J. Miller,” Charlie said, “it is that when she gets something in her head, it’s best to just go along with it, else you get your ass handed to you.”
“Which is a charming way of saying that we’ve got you outgunned two to zero,” said Rat with a wink. “But you’re right about one thing. The Chosen One is also known as she who must be obeyed.”
Miller ignored Rat. “Lead the way, Charlie.”
Charlie bowed slightly and walked ahead of them down the ornate hall. “Right this way, folks.”
Brandon couldn’t resist a dig. “Charlie, you’re always such a gentleman.”
Charlie didn’t look back.
Miller studied her old flame as he led them along. He wasn’t smiling. Miller was still adjusting to the fact that he’d probably been rolling in the hay with everyone in town, including young Brandon. She’d really cared for Charlie back in the day, after her marriage to Terrill Lee had collapsed. He’d been a handsome man then, full of fun, and filled with energy. Now he just looked old and haggard, desperately in need of a shower and a shave. He was not the tall man with perfect posture and a pressed uniform that she’d known before the zombie plague. She’d found his office wrecked and abandoned and taken Charlie Robinson for dead. In a way, turns out he was.

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