'Til Death Do Us Part (39 page)

He silently cursed himself when he walke
d past the window and looked in.
Gary had thought better of keeping the underwear on and was now completely unclothed except for his untied boot
s
.

“
Well there
’
s something I
’
ll never be able to unsee,
”
BT said
,
heading towards the tank.

He dropped the hose into it
and then unfurled the rest so that he was sitting at the tank of the truck before he started pumping.
He was twenty cranks in and was about to call his idea a
‘
flub
’
when he felt the diesel pulsing through the line.

“
Sweet!
”
He said as he quickly got the spigot into the tank opening.

After a few
moments, Gary
came out wearing a pink
‘
Virginia is for Lover
’
s
’
t-shirt and a pair of surfer shorts.

“
Nice duds,
”
BT told him.

“
Better than what I had on.
”

BT could only agree.

“
I
’
m gonna g
rab anything I think we can use,
”
Gary said.
“
Do you need anything?
”

“
Deneaux
still going nuts in there?
”
BT asked between hand cranks.

“
She seems to have calmed down since she started smoking. She keeps saying something about black people and their uncouth tastes. I
’
m going to grab some cleaning stuff
,
too
,
and see if I can get the back of the truck clean enough to get back into.
”

“
You
’
re going to leave me alone up front with
Deneaux
?
”

Gary shrugged and headed back into the store.
“
Better you than me.
”

BT pumped as fast as he could, he was
waiting for something to happen;
Zombies, gangs, rednecks, evangelists, or even rogue cats. It was unnatural to be in one place for so long and have
absolutely
nothing happen. He wasn
’
t complaining…
he was just vigilant.

Deneaux
was shuttling small plastic bags full of smokes to the truck. Gary had found a dolly and two five gallon jugs which he was using liberally to get rid of the majority of gore in the back of the
vehicle
. When BT had finally finished topping off the tanks, he went to the back of the truck to put the hose and pump up. Gary was in the back sweeping the human debris onto the ground. BT could not help notice
—
although he wished he had
n’t—
that the ground behind the truck looked like the world
’
s largest afterbirth. He skirted around the worst of it and handed the hose up to Gary.

“
You alright?
”
BT asked.

“
Fine,
”
Gary said through tight lips.

“
This seem strange to you?
”
BT asked Gary.

“
Which part?
”

“
The part where we
’
re not under attack.
”

“
Helps break up the monotony of survival.
”

BT walked away.
He
could imagine Mike having delivered that line, although it would have been more dry pan and less serious. He could not shake the
feeling that this was too easy.
Nothing
they had done since the zombies had come was easy and he just couldn
’
t fathom why
,
now
of all times,
they were getting a break. It was welcome to say the least, and he hated to
look a gift horse in the mouth—
no
t that he had ever received one—
but he understood the saying.

If this is a trap they sure are
taking their time springing it
, he thought
as he again walked around the truck looking for signs of trouble.

Deneaux
was now shuttling some food and bottles of soda that she was able to recover.
“
Going to eat well tonight.
”
S
he
held
up a can of macaroni and cheese. She was smiling around a cigarette.
“
These really aren
’
t so bad once you get
used to them.
Maybe
you co
lored folks are on to something,
”
s
he said as she took another puff of her menthol smoke.

“
I told you already
,
I don
’
t smoke and menthols aren
’
t a
‘
colored
’
thing,
”
BT said angrily.

“
I
’
m sure you don
’
t eat watermelon either.
”
She laughed as she threw her booty into the cab.

“
You old bat, who doesn
’
t eat watermelon?
”
BT asked.

“
I love watermelon,
”
Gary said behind the canvas.

“
See?
”
BT said
,
pointing to
wards
Gary.

“
Colored
s and white trash…
I guess they
’
re close enough to be the
same,
”
s
he said as she was trying to reason out this new information.

“
I can
’
t believe that you even associate with us.
”
BT said to her.

“
Zombies make strange bedfellows.
”
She laughed at her own take on the old
cliché
.

“
Could we not mention
Deneaux
and beds while I
’
m in the back
of this nasty truck cleaning up?
”
Gary nearly gagged.

“
Let
’
s finish up here.
I haven
’
t seen so much as a fly
,
but this place gives me the willies. I
’
m ready to go,
”
BT said
,
extracting
him
self
completely from the conversation.

Deneaux
ma
de one more trip into the store. S
he thoroughly searched every nook and cranny lest any pack of cigarettes go
un
smok
ed
. Gary poured the remaining water in the jug onto the bed of the truck, the bigger pieces of anatomy had already been pushed to the ground
.
All
that was left was to
sluice
out the remaining blood which
drained down the open tailgate. T
he pink fluid looked more like something that would be dispensed at a Sonic restaurant t
han the diluted remains of life-
giving blood.

“
I
’
m ready when you are
, BT,
”
Gary said as he tossed the red-
stained broom out the back of t
he truck. He shut the tailgate
and laid down on the hard wooden bench as BT pulled out of the station.

BT still couldn
’
t get over the fact that they had got just about everything they needed and hadn
’
t had to fight even a mad mosquito to do it. He shuddered when he finally came to the realization of why.

“
Calm before the storm,
”
h
e said prophetically.

M
ike Journal Entry 7

“
Any idea where we are?
”
I asked John as we sat at the end of a tree
line. I
was looking at a single-
wide trailer not ten yards from our location. I didn
’
t see any signs of life, but even before zombies, walking up on a trailer unannounced was a good way to get shot
or at least yelled at by a two-
fist
,
bearded hag. Or quite possibly you could end up on
Cops
.

“
Weren
’
t we just up in the air?
”
John asked me as he looked to the tops of the trees.

“
We crashed about two miles ago,
”
I replied to him
,
not taking my eyes off the back windows.

“
Why do all the houses look the same?
”
John asked
, trying to stand.
I pulled him back down.

“
We
’
re in a trailer park. White trash capital of th
e
world by
the looks of it,
”
I told him as I looked
at
no less than
five
Chevy
s
on bloc
ks. Sixteen clothes
lines, replet
e with wife beater t-shirts and—
I kid
you not—
used
,
washed
,
disposable diapers.
The diapers sm
elled and looked relatively new;
well
,
as new as a used diaper can anyway.

“
Ma
ybe we should go somewhere else,
”
John said.

It was one of the few lucid things he had said since I
’
d met him and I would have heeded his advice if I saw anywhere else even remotely close. But it was getting dark and I didn
’
t want to be out any longer than I needed
.
Between the two of u
s
,
all we could offer in the way of defense was some marijuana. So unless our adversary stopped and smoked the majority of John
’
s offering
,
then immediately fell asleep where we could throttle him out of the picture, we were in a little bit of a pinch.

“
Let me think,
”
I said as I sat with my back to the trailer leaning up against a relatively large oak.

“
You do that, I
’
m going to light a fattie.
”

A small bird, maybe a sparrow
,
was a couple of branches over me
. It was
looking down
,
his head bobbing as he kept us in his line of sight, probably curious as to what we were. Not many of us running around
anymore—
at least not the living kind.