All That I See - 02 (21 page)

"Come up here," I said. "Do it slowly and keep your hands where I can see them."

He chuckled, "I ain't no dumb ass."

"I could shoot you," I said.

"You could shoot me up there, too."

"Yeah, I could. So which would you prefer?"

He thought it over and said, "Fuck it."

He climbed up onto the roof then put his hands up. I looked him over. We were about the same size. He had a pistol in a shoulder holster.

"Put the guns down in front of you...and be nice."

Slowly, he placed the weapons on the roof in front of him. I really expected him to try something.

"Back away from the guns," I said.

He took two big steps backward.

"Now, take your clothes off," I said.

"
Fuck you
."

"Do it," I said.

The rain had picked up and was dripping of the brim of his cap. He blinked at me a couple of times, but his eyes didn't betray his thoughts.

"Sorry, pervert," he said, finally, "but I'm saving myself for your girlfriend."

"The shirt and cap ought to be enough," I said. "Take them off."

"I don't think so," he said.

So I shot him in his right leg just above his knee. I was aiming for his crotch. He screamed and dropped to his knees.

"I need your shirt and cap," I said. "I can take them off a dead man, but I don't want to."

"Okay, asshole! Dammit, just give me a second!"

Quickly, he removed his cap, shoulder holster, and shirt. He tossed them toward me. Then he gripped his leg, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Dammit, I need some bandages or something!"

"No need," I said, taking aim with the pistol.

"You said you didn't want to kill me," he said, struggling to get to his feet. He finally made it, and wobbled there. He might have been better off on his knees.

This time my aim was a little better. I hit him in the chest, just below the throat. There was a look of surprise in his eyes. He stumbled back and went over the edge into the alley.

"No," I said to myself. "I said I didn't want to undress a dead man."

It had to be done. He was a bad man--

"Unredeemable."

Chapter 24

I removed my jacket and put his shirt on over my tank top. It was a quilted flannel shirt—blue and black checkered—like the kind some people use as over shirts or jackets. It was warm and stank like him. I put on his cap and then his shoulder holster and pistol. Rifle strapped over my shoulder, I climbed back down to the second floor and into the window. After collecting the shotgun and wrench, I went back downstairs then out into the alley. He was off to my left on his side with his back to me, legs bent as if asleep. His blood was being diluted and washed away by the rain.

A couple of infected women came around the back corner and stopped at his body. They were in the second stage of the virus, but they hadn’t yet begun to decay. I climbed into the glass truck before they got interested in me. One of them got on hands and knees beside him and started chewing on the soft spot below his ribcage. The other knelt and bit his shoulder. This was my handiwork—my fault—but I didn’t care. I felt nothing for him.

I started the truck and turned on the wipers. The women looked up at me from their meal but didn’t
come to investigate.
I was starting to feel afraid again. It seemed like I was always a little afraid, but I had gotten good at suppressing it. I’ve never been in the military, but I guess that might be what men in combat do. Anyway, the fear was elevating above normal levels and I was starting to feel it again. I was thinking that maybe I should just go with my first thoughts and get Ben Parks to help me. I didn’t want to face those healthy, unpredictable men alone, but I didn’t want to risk driving out into the county for help then coming back to find that they had taken her.

These new clothes along with my mask would allow me to get right in there with them. My plan after that had not yet been formulated. For one thing, all of my recent physical injuries were taking their toll. I was in pain, I was weak, and I was exhausted, and I was still sort of drunk.

I backed the truck out onto Broadway and headed east. I was curious about all of the gunshots to the west, but I didn’t know if they would be friendly to me in my present disguise. Besides, judging by the zombie activity, Sara was inside the First Baptist Church.

I went two blocks then took a right at the courthouse. I stopped on the back side of the court square and looked west down South Street to the church. The bucket truck was parked on this side of the building. The whole block was surrounded by hundreds—possibly thousands--of infected creatures. The bucket was next to a second story window and the window had been broken. I saw no healthy people around.

I didn’t know how I would get in there, and I wondered how they planned to get out. They had left others on the outside. Maybe they were the ones shooting to the west. Maybe they were planning to come back in with another bulldozer or something.

I sat there for a few minutes trying to figure out what I should do. Then a man climbed out of the broken window and into the bucket. He was followed by two more. They maneuvered the bucket around so that it was just over the cab of the bulldozer. One of the men climbed out, opened a small door in the top of the cage, and then climbed down into the machine. Then the bucket moved back then down and the two men climbed through the back window of the truck. The bulldozer started up and began to creep through the crowd to clear a path for the truck.

“What the hell?” I said.

Where was Sara? Were they unable to find her? Did they find her, but leave her? Was she hurt?

The dozer shoved a pile of zombies out ahead of it and the bucket truck was able to pull away from the building. I took the opportunity to get in there. I approached the truck just as it drove out onto 7th Street. The men in the truck both pulled their weapons but then lowered them when they thought they recognized me. I stayed far enough away that they couldn’t get a close look. We let our windows down.

“Sammy!” the driver called out. “Why ain’t you using your radio?”

I shrugged like I didn’t have it.

“She ain’t in there!” the driver said. “Willy said they seen her over on 10th Street. We’re headin’ over.”

I nodded. 10th Street?

“We lost James,” he said.

I tried to act sad or disappointed. I wondered if James had been the original bulldozer operator. He rolled his window up, waved, and drove past me taking a right so he could circle around to 10th.

How did she manage to get over to 10th Street?

I followed the bucket truck, and I was nervous as hell. I kept reaching over in the seat next to me to touch the guns for assurance. I felt like I was going to throw up. The bulldozer led the way. We crossed over to 10th via Water Street. They stopped in the intersection for a few seconds then turned left.

We drove south two blocks and stopped again. The FedEx truck and the silver pickup were parked ahead. There were three armed men standing around talking. The doors on the bucket truck opened. The two men got out, and the driver motioned for me to join them. I really needed another drink. I took a deep breath and got out, slinging the rifle over my shoulder.

The men looked at me when I approached then went back to their conversation. I stopped about fifteen feet away from the group and pretended to adjust the strap on the rifle. I didn’t
want
to get close enough for them to realized I wasn’t who they thought I was, and I wanted to be far enough away that I could put one of the parked vehicles between me and them if the shooting started.

“I don’t get how she got over here,” said the driver of the bucket truck. “We seen her go in that church.”

“Maybe there’s two of ‘em,” said a man leaning on the FedEx truck. “Wouldn’t that be somethin’?”

“Well, we done scared her now,” said another. “Ain’t no way she’ll come with us willin’.”

“What about that ol’ boy she was with? I don’t like the idea of killin’ healthy men.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You know he weren’t no good. He’s either dead or infected by now,” the driver said. Then he looked over at me. “How ‘bout it, Sammy? Did that ol’ boy get away?”

I shook my head.

“Fuck him anyway,” the driver said. “He’s the reason we lost James and the others. He brought it all on himself.”

Another truck pulled up from the opposite direction and two more people got out. That brought the count up to seven with one more still manning the bulldozer. Then I realized one of the newcomers was a woman. That surprised me. She stayed next to the vehicle while her male companion approached the group. He was wearing a black long sleeved shirt, a camouflage hunting vest, and camouflage pants. There was a large handgun holstered on his hip.

“Y’all ain’t found her yet?”

“Nah.”

“Well, she can’t be far,” he said. “We ain’t got a lot of time. Shit is comin’ down the goddamn pipe, y’all.”

“I still say she ain’t worth all the trouble,” said the man by the FedEx truck. “Let’s just head on out before—“

“We ain’t leavin’ without her, Lee. We might have freed her from that piece of shit, but we can’t leave her to waste away here in Clayfield. I mean shit, man, how many times in the past two weeks have you seen a healthy woman?”

Lee looked over at the woman by the car.

“This ain’t about gettin’ laid,” the camo guy said. “
Ellen
ain’t gonna single handedly rebuild the human race. If there’s another uninfected woman out there, we’re takin’ her with us and….” His voice trailed off, and he looked at me.

“Who the hell is that?”

The group turned their full attention on me.

“That’s Sammy.”

I took a step backward.

“The hell it is,” said the newcomer.

“Shit, Willy, that’s Sammy,” said the driver of the bucket truck. “I just talked to him.”

I took another step back.

The new man, Willy, stepped forward with his hand resting on the grip of the revolver. His eyes were squinting, scrutinizing everything about me.

“What the hell happened to your ear?” he said. “You been bit?”

I didn’t speak.

“Sammy?” the driver said. “You feelin’ alright?”

I wasn’t feeling alright at all, but Sammy….Well, Sammy was in worse shape than I.

I nodded, hoping they would leave me alone and go back to their conversation. Willy pulled his revolver, but didn’t point it at me. I took another step back. The rest of the group all turned their bodies toward me, and a couple of them stepped forward.

“Y’all know what I think?” said Willy. “I think this here might be that fucker that’s had her all this time.”

“Sammy?” the driver said again.

“Goddammit, Ray! It ain’t Sammy. Can’t you see that?”

“I’ve been lookin’ forward to this, asshole,” he said to me. “I’ve heard all about you. You’re a real piece of work.”

I thought they must have me confused with someone else.

“We saw what you did out at the high school. It makes me sick to think about the perversions you been forcin’ on that poor girl.”

What was he talking about?

Another truck pulled up behind Willy’s truck. Most of the group turned to see, but Willy and a couple of others didn’t take their eyes off of me. I glanced up when two more men got out of the new truck.

“What ya
got, Willy?” a man said, joining the others.

“Take a wild guess,” Willy said.

The new man stopped and stared at me.

“Pull down your mask,” he said.

I didn’t move, so Willy pointed the revolver. I nodded and pulled the masked down.

“Son of a bitch,” the new guy said, pulling down his own mask. It was Nathan Camp.

“Shit,” I whispered.

Chapter 25

I stared at Nathan for a seco
nd, looked around at the others
then I ran. I wasn’t thinking clearly, just that I had to get away. I didn’t think I’d have time to get in the truck, so I ran past it. Then out of nowhere, somebody clobbered me. I don’t really know what they hit me with—maybe their fist—but it slammed into my left shoulder and knocked me sideways. I was seeing stars. I tried to stand, but then my head got punched a few times. They took Sammy’s weapons. Then they were dragging me
by my feet
face down.

“Where’s Sammy?”

I had the 9mm down in my pants under my shirt. I rolled and tried to grab it, but somebody kicked me and took it.

“He’s wearin’ Sammy’s cap, y’all. I could’ve swore it was him.”

Then someone was on me. They twisted my arms up behind my back and I heard the clicks and felt the pinch of handcuffs. They rolled me over on my back, and I blinked up into the falling rain drops as they all looked down on me.