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Authors: David Achord

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BOOK: Zombie Rules
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Rick slapped the table. “Well there you have it. You just used a lot of words to say a few years back somebody stepped in some chicken shit or got bit on the ass by a flea and the next thing you know, fifty million people are dead. So Zach, it may be just a few hundred people die, or it may be damn near the whole world. And those who don’t die, well, they’re going to be in a world of lawlessness and starvation. Anarchy. Total fucking anarchy. You may not know this, but I’m in a social network of what people call Preppers. We’ve been planning for something like this. We met just a couple of hours ago at the VFW. We all agreed it’s time to bug out and hunker down.” Rick finished up his coffee and rubbed his beard. He gave a curt nod to himself, as if to confirm a decision he had already made.

             
“Well, what say the two of us hunker down at the farm and ride it out? I’ve planned ahead Zach. I’ve got a shit load of food stored. I got guns and ammo. I got reloading equipment, farming equipment, cattle, chickens, generators, two-way radios, solar panels, fresh water from a well. You name it I got it. What I don’t have is a partner. Having a partner will help tremendously. You got something I don’t Zach.” I looked at him quizzically. “You got your youth and you got brains. You got a good memory. My gray matter isn’t the best, but I’ve been around. If you think about it, we’d make a good team. You know, like them Asians twins, yin and yang. So, what do you say brother?”

             
I rubbed my face. His logic, although a bit paranoid, kind of made sense. My Grandmother did not own this house. She rented it from some property management company. Chances were pretty good I’d be evicted before the New Year. I was going to need a place to live anyway, so what the hell. I needed to get away. Get away from school, get away from this house. Get away from everyone. I looked at Rick. He must have read my thoughts because he was grinning. He was even wearing his false teeth, which he only did for meals and special events. I gave him a silent nod and he slapped his hands together in victory. He knew I would say yes. Hell, what else was I going to do?

             
Felix and his father came over and helped load up the trailer. I could not lift very much, so I limited my activity to packing my clothes. We finished in about an hour. Like I said, there wasn’t much. A lot of the furniture was old and worn out. Most of it was going to either Goodwill or to a trash drop off.

             
I had been standing on the porch watching them load up. Felix walked over to me. He had one of those sad, hang-dog expressions.

             
“I’m not going to be seeing much of you after this, I’m thinking.” Felix said sadly.

             
I resisted the impulse to pat him on the shoulder. “Why do you say that? You know where the farm is. It’s not too far. You’re welcome to come out and stay anytime you want. And don’t think I won’t be coming to visit my best friend.”

             
“You didn’t say anything about school. You’re not going back, are you?” I looked at him a moment and then shook my head sadly. His jaw dropped. “Why Zach? You’ve got good grades and you know you’re going to get a scholarship. It’s because of Macie, right?” I did not respond. I just stared at the ground. There was no need to deny it. He was right. “Dude, don’t let her mess your life up. There are other girls out there. Before you know it, you’ll be dating someone else and Jason will have dumped Macie. Who will be the sorry one then? Her, that’s who!”

             
I smiled at Felix. He looked like he was about to cry and I did not want him to. “You’re the best friend a guy could have Felix. But I need some time away to sort things out. Who knows, maybe in a week I’ll be ready to come back.”

Felix reached under his glasses and wiped his eyes. He smiled hopefully, resisted an urge to give me a hug, and shook my hand. “Anything I can do to help buddy, you just call.” He looked over at his father. “Pops is getting antsy. Mom is sick and he wants to get going. Give me a shout tomorrow, okay?” I agreed.
“Promise?” I agreed again more earnestly. He shook my hand again and left with his father.

             
I did one final walk through of the old, small house that had been the only home that I ever knew. It could stand a good cleaning. I spent a couple of more minutes lost in memories and then turned the lights out.

             
Rick was waiting for me outside. It was dark out now and the temperature was already down in the low forties. “Look here kid, I’m going to head on to the Ponderosa. Here,” He slapped a wad of money and a piece of paper with scribbles on it. “Buy everything on the list that you can find. Fill your truck up with gas and when you’re done, meet me at your new home. I threw some bungee cords, rope, and a tarp in the back of your truck so can strap everything down. You got any problems, give me a call. Got it?” I nodded my head and began scanning the list. “Oh, one more thing.” He handed me a knife. “It’s a Benchmark lock blade with a razor sharp edge. Just flip it open, hold tight, and stab repeatedly.”

             
I looked at it questioningly. “Okay, I think? Do you expect me to run into trouble or something?”

             
“You never know kid.” He said. “It might just be me and the fact that I live out in the country, but I sure am hearing a lot of sirens.” I had not noticed until he said something, but it seemed like I was hearing them as well. “How’re your ribs?” I shrugged. They were sore and hurt if I made any sudden movements. At least my balls were feeling better.

             
“Alright, don’t be too prideful and refuse to ask for help loading from the store employees.” I nodded. He grinned at me and left without another word.

Chapter 7 - The Death of a Thug

              Rick’s list was a little odd. Some of the items made perfect sense. Toothbrushes and toothpaste, dental floss, razor blades, toilet paper, powdered milk. Other items on the list stood out though, like tampons and Vaseline. Nevertheless, I was able to locate almost everything at the Sam’s Wholesale Store. I finished up with a few more items at a local Kroger store and went through the self-service checkout. I refused to buy the tampons, convinced that Rick was playing a joke on me. It was only a couple of sacks that I could manage, even with busted ribs. I had just gotten to my truck, lost in my own thoughts, when suddenly there was someone behind me.

             
“Well, hello white boy.” I turned suddenly, which was painful. My grimace got a sadistic chuckle. “You still hurtin’ boy?” I got a good look at him then and made the recognition. It was one of Jason’s friends. Specifically, he was the center for the football team and one of the assholes who put the boots to me. It was not until I saw him in person that I made the connection. He was at least four inches shorter than me, but weighed at least a hundred pounds more. Most of it was fat, but there was muscle there as well. He looked like a retarded Troglodyte wearing a ball cap sideways. Like all retarded Troglodytes wear them.

“I said hello. You
gonna disrespect me by not answering me white boy?” He stepped closer.

             
“What the hell do you want?” I demanded. There was a note of uncertainty in my voice and I had no doubt that he heard it.

             
“I hear you been talking to the police.” He pronounced police ‘Po-Leese’. English grammar was not one of his strong points.

             
“They came to the hospital and took a report. You should have thought of that before you attacked me.” I said as I stepped back. I believed that I could have easily outrun him, even with hurt ribs, but I was hesitant to leave my truck behind. Gunfire sounded in the distance. I wondered who was shooting who, and looked toward the sound. It was a bad move.

             
He may have been fat, but he could move a short distance quickly. Before I could act, he stepped forward and punched me in the gut. I gasped and doubled over in pain. “You stupid bitch. You shouldn’t have told them po-leeses nothing. Now you gonna have to pay. Where’s that money wad I seen you with earlier, huh?” He stood over me and grabbed my wallet out of my back pocket. “Yeah, there it is. That’s some good money.” He grabbed the remaining money, a couple of hundred dollars, and threw my wallet on the ground. I was on my hands and knees now. I could hear him chuckling at me. I could also hear sirens in the distance, but I instinctively knew they were not coming to rescue me.

             
“Yeah, my boy is doing that little blonde headed white girl right at this very minute I bet. You thought she was yours, didn’t you. That bitch belong to my boy, not you. You know what white boy, I think I’m gonna make you my bitch. You owe me.”

I was crying again. That angered me. Talking about Macie angered me. Robbing me of Rick’s money angered me.
Calling me his bitch, now that was downright disturbing. I looked up at him. He was rubbing his crotch and leering at me. “Yeah bitch, you gonna take care of me right now.”

             
Something inside me snapped. My hand found the knife in my pocket. I locked the blade open, and lunged upward with a guttural yell.

             
I don’t know how many times I stabbed him. It was all a blur. When it was over, he was lying on the ground dead. We had ended up in between my truck and another car. I was breathing hard and my ribs hurt like hell. I had blood all over me. I sat there on the cold asphalt beside my tormentor gasping for air. He wasn’t breathing. Thankfully my truck and the other car parked beside me kept us mostly hidden from view. I don’t know how long I sat there catching my breath. My mind was in a fog, the thinking processes going in slow motion. I did not know what to do.

             
Rick. I needed to call Rick.

             
The conversation went something like this. “Rick, I just stabbed a guy. I think he’s dead.”

             
“No shit?”

             
“No shit! I’m serious Rick. I wouldn’t joke about something like this.” I quickly told him what had happened. “What do I do?”

             
He drew in a deep breath and spoke sternly. “Listen to me carefully. Only answer me yes or no. Take a look around, but don’t make it obvious. Is there anyone watching you?” I peeked up over my truck and casually looked around. There was nobody within close proximity, only an older couple at the opposite end of the parking lot. They had their heads down and were hurriedly walking toward their car. I relayed this information.

             
“Okay, good. Now, get those groceries and money back, and then you need to get out of there as soon as possible.” I started to ask about the police but he shut me up. “No! Listen to me. You’ve got to get out of there pronto! Now do what I said and get yourself in your truck. Don’t hang up, I’ll wait.”

             
I grabbed the money out of his dead hand, grabbed the sacks of groceries, and got in my truck. After a moment I got back out of my truck and retrieved my wallet off of the cold asphalt. I looked around again, trying to make it look casual, and then got back in my truck and locked the doors. It seemed like the proper thing to do. I relayed this to Rick.

             
“Alright, you’re doing good kid. Now, slowly drive away, just like you would if nothing at all happened. But, I want you to kind of keep one of your hands over your face and look up at the light poles with your eyes only. Don’t tilt your head up. Do you see any security cameras?” I looked up through my windshield. I spotted one at the far end of the parking lot near the main entrance. Rick directed me to drive away from it and choose an alternate exit.

             
Rick stayed on the phone with me the entire time until I got back to the farm, talking to me and calming me. It did not help very much. I was certain at any moment there would be blue lights flashing in my rear view mirror and I would be arrested.

             
But it never happened.

             
Several minutes later I drove over our gateless bridge to the farm. I saw Rick waiting by the barn with the mutts. They wagged their tails appreciatively as I drove up. When I got out of the truck, Rick looked me up and down.

             
“Lord Almighty. Strip all of those clothes off right here, then go get in the shower and scrub yourself down good.” I looked down and remembered that I was covered in blood. Curly kept trying to lick me and I had to push him away. I did as Rick told me without complaint.

             
The shower was hot and soothing, but I could not stop shaking. My brain told me it was a natural response to the adrenalin dump, but knowing why did not alleviate any of the symptoms, nor did it calm my nerves.

             
Thirty minutes later, I was showered and wearing clean clothes. Rick had a fire going. He had thrown my clothes in the fireplace, including my shoes. As they burned, they filled the house with the smell of burning rubber. He looked up at me and handed me his ever present pint of whiskey. I tentatively took a swallow and nearly choked. He grunted and took it back.

             
“I’ve got to get your truck unloaded. You feel up to a little work?” I nodded. The truth was, I hurt like hell, but I needed to do something. Rick nodded. “Under the kitchen sink there is a pair of those rubber dishwashing gloves and a big sponge. Get them and a bucket of hot water, put a little bit of bleach in it, about two cups, and wipe down every square inch of your truck, inside and out. Then we’re going to run it around in the dirt and mud and get it all dirty again.”

BOOK: Zombie Rules
3.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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