“I’ll give you a hundred rounds of seven point six two,” I said, watching his eyes. He knew what that was all right, and he nodded.
“We can use it.”
“Great. Now look. Why don’t you go with me? Just a scouting mission, and if it looks too dangerous, we’ll head back. No fuss, no muss. Katherine is here just in case.”
“We don’t take prisoners, man.”
“Fine, then she stays here as an ambassador of goodwill.”
He laughed at that and then, with a pat on my shoulder, he left and went into the house. I stood in the road a mile or so from my house and looked down the street. If I got to the other side of the barricade and I was extra cautious, I could be there in about fifteen minutes. I decided to take the chance, wanting to know how the neighborhood had fared.
I slid over one of the cars by jumping on the hood and then over the roof. A couple of men watched, but they didn’t try to stop me. My car started up easily, and I drove it off the road and onto the sidewalk, in front of an old Volkswagen van that was turned sideways. A wall of bricks was built up under the chassis so no one could get under it. It really did look like someone had driven over a low wall and left it. I could even pick out the mortar between the bricks.
After taking a couple of boxes of ammo from the car, I loaded my pants pockets with a couple of magazines, then strapped a beat-up Colt .45 under my arm. Once I slung the M-16 over my shoulder, I must have made a sight. If they really didn’t care about me coming and going, then I was going to do both.
I stared down the road in the opposite direction of the barrier, watching a pair of rotting creatures shamble across a four-way intersection. One turned to regard me, and then veered off. The other kept going. It was about twenty-five yards away, or so I surmised. I swung the assault rifle up to the crook of my shoulder and took aim. While I wanted a headshot, I would settle for the neck. It seemed like a shot to anywhere near the brainstem or brainpan stopped those things in their tracks. A shot to the body just forced them to fall over, and they’d just get back up. I had yet to nail one of the guys with glowing eyes.
Flipping the safety off without looking at it, I exhaled and stroked the trigger. The shot echoed around me as it left the barrel. It struck just off center, and a puff of pink and gray mist exploded outward, then the thing dropped in its tracks. It fell to its knees, toppling backwards like a puppet with no strings attached. The other zombie paused in mid-step, turned to look at its companion, then dropped to all fours and went for its ex-buddy. She took a huge chunk of cheek in her mouth, ripping upward. I struggled to keep my stomach calm while I fired again. The second one fell forward, and they lay there like lovers.
Mission complete, I headed back the way I had come.
“Nice shootin’, Tex,” one of the men called out. He was older, gray around the temples, and had a pair of thick glasses on. Licking his lips, he spit to one side.
“Thanks.”
“I don’t think you killed the second one. It’s still twitching.”
I looked back, and sure enough, the other was trying to move one hand away from her body, like she was crawling under barbed wire. Putting the ammo on the ground, I slid over one of the cars—a red Ford that looked to be at least twenty years old. I took to the street, which was bathed in pale light thanks to the early morning sun. It was red and pink where it bounced off clouds. I was reminded of an old saying from my father: Red in the morning, sailors take warning.
The only red I was about to see was blood.
Over the last few months, I had faced a number of these things and walked away unscathed. I fought them with guns, knives, and even hand to hand. They had been faceless monsters that I killed with impunity. I had slaughtered them—there was no other way to put it. These monsters that used to be men and women but were now mindless killing machines.
Now I had the chance to get close and study one. I took the handgun from the back of my waistband and checked the safety. Sliding the chamber back a quarter of an inch, I checked to make sure there was a bullet in it. Once I clicked off the safety, I approached the undead.
It was pitiful. The woman’s dress hung in tatters around her body. Her legs looked like fat sausages, complete with a thin layer of casing to hold everything in. Her skin was nearly translucent, and the stuff under it looked putrid and rotten. As she crawled, it jiggled like congealed fat. She reached for me with a clawed hand that grasped in slow motion.
Her hair was coated in grime and blood. Her eyes were dull, white, and one was rotted in the socket. The other swiveled as she tracked me moving around her. Her chin was covered in blood, and chunks of meat hung out of her mouth.
Even as she reached for me, her mouth closed down over a hunk of her companion’s neck. I grimaced and took in the rest of her body. I don’t know how she died; if it was the bite or if she was killed and came back.
“You gonna kill that thing or ask it to dance?” one of the men yelled.
Kill it. How do you kill something that is already dead? I crouched down on the balls of my feet and touched her arm. I didn’t want anything to do with her, and I really didn’t want any physical contact, but curiosity got the better of me. She was cold to the touch, and there was no blood flow under her skin. No pulse. Breaking my grip, I took a step back, lifted the gun, and blew her brains all over the road.
The walk back to the barricade took longer than it should have.
After delivering the ammo, I decided to hoof it to my house. It was less than a mile, and I had the daylight to my advantage. I walked around the perimeter until I got my bearings and determined which way I had to go. Though I had driven these streets many times, they had changed now. The houses were still there, lined up in perfect rows, but they were also overgrown, as shrubs and trees grew any which way they wanted to without man to interfere with them. There were no cars in the street, with the exception of the ones that made up the perimeter. The rest had been driven away.
Most homes had their doors and garages wide open. I imagined the group here must have gone over every inch looking for supplies. There were things tossed aside in yards—empty boxes, cans, and bottles. Now-useless electronics lay everywhere. I could see the panic as everyone ran from the approaching horror, then the opposite as those who stayed started looting. I saw a high-end laptop tossed aside.
The air was much cleaner now. Maybe it was the lack of exhaust or the affect of all the flourishing plant life. It was going to be a warm day; that much was obvious from the already thickly mounting humidity.
Scott caught up with me and walked by my side. I glanced at him. He had an almost gleeful look on his face. I found it infectious and grinned back, which felt good.
“Where you goin’, man?”
“My house is less than a mile from here. I’m going over there for a minute. I need to pick up some things.”
“You know it’s probably looted, right?”
“I have a stash. I’m pretty sure no one has found it.”
“Well, I can’t let you go and do a dumb thing like that by yourself. So I’m goin’ with you.”
Not for the first time, I wondered if he was mentally unbalanced. Then I laughed out loud. We were all unbalanced.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, man. I’m just glad for the company.”
“Well, all right. Let’s go on a quest and shit. I get to be Frodo.”
“You are definitely a Sam. I think I should be Frodo.”
“But I have more common sense.” He grinned. “Like I would never go out into this crazy world alone. You gotta have someone at your back at all times.”