Badass Zombie Road Trip (33 page)

“I’d like nothing better,” Candy said. “But the only way out is through that door, and even if we could sneak past the guys, Jack’s bound to be here any minute. He only lives a mile from here.”

The glimmer of hope faltered, sputtered. “Where exactly are we?”

“Jack’s place. You know, Jack of Diamonds? It’s a casino on the strip.”

The glimmer winked out. Jonah trembled. He recognized the name of the casino, but couldn’t remember why. The name echoed in his tired mind. He drew a deep breath and asked again in slow, singular questions, “Where? Are? We?”

Candy said, very softly, “Reno.”

Jonah’s eyes widened, a million cries leaping to his tongue, yet he was unable to speak. If he opened his mouth, he was going to call her a liar. He didn’t want to call her a liar. Even though she clearly was a liar. She had lied to him this whole time, about her sick father, about her lack of funds. He bet that Candy wasn’t even her real name. And now here she was, lying about being all the way back in Reno. Wasn’t she? After all, you couldn’t get all the way from the middle of Colorado to the western border of Nevada in seven hours. And the time said he had only been out seven hours. Right?

Glancing at the clock, Jonah realized his simple mistake.

“You were out for most of the trip because you lost so much blood,” Candy said, pressing on with her lie, making it sound most convincing. “I’m surprised you didn’t bleed to death, but Murray is pretty good with gunshots. God knows he’s seen enough of them.”

Her voice faded to a thin tunnel behind his heartbeat thumping in his temples as he stared at the clock. Or rather, the space where there lay a certain dot. The dot that indicated the difference between a.m. and p.m. When lit, the time was p.m.

It wasn’t lit.

Candy, oblivious to his distress, kept right on answering his question. “We aren’t in the casino, of course. This is the manager’s apartment behind the hotel. Well, Jack keeps it on the books as a manager’s apartment, but nobody lives here. He really uses it for business. And by ‘business’, I mean this kind of thing. Jonah? Are you okay? You look kinda sick. Hun? Can you hear me?”

Jonah heard her, all right, but nothing beyond those glowing green numbers registered with him. He woke from his nap just after one in the afternoon on the forest-bordered Colorado highway, and now here he was at eight in the morning in a stuffy hotel room in a mediocre casino in Nevada. He had been down and out for nineteen hours, which was plenty of time to drag two unconscious folks all the way back to Reno.

Reno.

After coming so far, they had been dragged back to the start. After the bickering and the struggling and the countless hours of endless highway boredom, he was back where he had began. And time was slipping away. By his calculation, he had less than thirty hours left.

It took at least forty to make the whole trip in one go.

“Reno?” he asked.

Candy nodded.

Jonah Orville Benton was not a cussing man. Sure, he let a little one slip now and again in frustration or sometimes in joy. But for the most part, he tried to watch his mouth. He felt it was unbecoming to a man, or anyone for that matter, to use such uncalled for and uncouth words. His mother often said there was a time and place for everything, and when one cussed all the time, it lowered the impact of such language. Then, when it came the proper time to cuss, no one would care. Jonah often wondered when, if ever, he would find it appropriate to cuss.

Now he knew.

“Mother fuckers!” Jonah screamed.

Candy’s jaw dropped as Jonah hammered the mattress beneath him with both fists, while releasing a torrent of foul and nasty words.

“Goddamned cuntbag sonsabitches! Two-bit, cocksucking cum dumpsters! I’ll kill em! I’ll break their fucking necks! Ass-fucking, teabagging, ball-licking pieces of total shit!”

“Jonah!” Candy yelled. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down!” He turned his seething anger on her. “I will not just calm down! Do you have any idea how fucked I am? Do you? Do you?”

“I know, and I’m so sorry—”

Jonah cut her apology short with a high-pitched maniacal cackle. “’Sorry’? You’re sorry? You have no idea what you’ve done! Well, fuck you, little Miss Thing, and fuck your ‘sorry’!”

Candy recoiled from his fury, her look of sorrow draining into confusion. “I deserved that.”

“Damn right you deserve it!” Ignoring the stabbing pain of his knee, he swung his legs to the edge of the bed and tried to stand. “Get them muscled-up Nancy boys in here so I can give them a piece of my fucking mind. I’m gonna break them in half and shit on their innards!”

Candy pulled on his arm, drawing him back down to the bed, trying to keep him from falling on his ass. “I know you’re upset about Dale, but if you don’t calm down, they’re just going to put you out again.”

“For fuck’s sake, I hope they do. I hope they fucking kill me while they’re at it. Then I won’t have to spend the next thirty goddamned hours wondering where in the hell I went wrong on this whole stupid trip!”

“Please, hun—”

“Don’t you ‘hun’ me, Candy!” Jonah snorted. “If that’s even your real name!”

“It is!”

“Why should I believe you? Why not lie about it? You lied about everything else!”

Candy released him again, this time moving off the bed and away from him. She trembled against the far wall, on the verge of crying again, as she stared at him from hurt-filled eyes. And as much as he wanted to return to that guilty state of close proximity, holding and cradling and soothing her, he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for her anymore. Sure, this Jack guy had made her life a mess, but she had not only made Jonah’s a mess—she had condemned his very soul to Hell.

Jonah lay back on the bed, exhausted from his emotional outburst, and said to no one in particular, “We’ll never make it now.” He rubbed his tired eyes, wincing, as—too late—he remembered his broken nose. Dabbing at the dried blood, he considered his options.

There were none.

He considered the bright side.

Again, none.

“Dorothy,” Candy said.

Jonah leaned up on his elbows and looked across the room, where she had slumped onto the floor with her knees drawn to her chest. “Who?”

“My real name. It’s Dorothy.”

“Really? I would’ve expected Candice or something like that.”

“No, I’m afraid it’s plain old Dorothy.”

“Then why—”

“My grandmother always called me Dot. It turned into Candy Dot when I was in high school, and that sort of stuck. Then folks just started calling me Candy when I came out here. I didn’t correct ‘em, since I was after a new life anyway.”

“Huh.” He rested against the mattress again. “I guess that’s one thing you didn’t lie about after all.” Twirling his finger in the air, he added, “Huzzah for you.”

“I didn’t lie about you, either.”

Jonah lolled his head toward her. “And what does that mean?”

“I said you were a nice guy, and I meant it. Dale was an asshole, but he didn’t deserve to be shot like a damned dog on the side of the road. And you don’t deserve this. So go ahead and hate me. I’m the only one here who’s earned any of this.” She buried her face in her knees.

It’s not her fault you lost the bet
, his subconscious whispered to him.

How? If they hadn’t picked her up, they’d almost be there.

True
, his subconscious agreed,
but she didn’t make you stop and pick her up. She didn’t invite herself to lunch instead of just parting ways. She didn’t force you to offer her a ride all the way across the states. She wasn’t the one who forgot that you couldn’t use a GPS and lost you all that precious time.

Why was his subconscious defending her?

Because I hate to see someone get blamed for something she didn’t do. If you’re gonna get mad, get mad at Dale. He’s the one who dragged her along. She’s only guilty of three things here. Lying and thievery and …

And? The third thing? What was the third thing?

“That’s for her to know,” Satan said, “and for you to find out.”

Jonah sat up and eyed the Lord of Darkness. “How long have you been here?”

Satan stood with his arms crossed, leaning back against the door. “Long enough to know you screwed up pretty bad this time.”

“It wasn’t my fault.” Jonah waved at Candy. “It was hers.”

“I know it’s my fault!” she yelled. “Now just leave me alone.”

“Cute kid,” Satan said. “Some issues with her temper, but nice tits.”

“Shut up,” Jonah said.

Candy sank lower into her own lap.

“Aw, come on now. It’s not like you want her anymore.” Satan crossed the room and crouched in front of Candy. “Personally, I like a big set of knockers. And a big ass. Gives me something to hang onto when I’m playing hide the salami.”

“Leave her alone,” Jonah warned.

At his warning, Candy looked up, worry dancing in her damp eyes.

“What do you think, Jonah?” Satan asked, as he stood again, still staring down at Candy. “You reckon she blows on the first date? Or does she strike you as easier than that? Because I think she just might be.”

Jonah got to his feet and growled, “You better back the fuck off of her. Now.”

“Who are you talkin’ to?” Candy asked, looking back and forth between Jonah and the space to her left.

The space Satan was occupying, at least as far as Jonah was concerned.

Jonah glanced down at Candy, then back up to the Devil, then back down to Candy again. He should have known better. Should have expected something like this.

She couldn’t see the Devil. She couldn’t hear him either.

“Yeah, hun.” Satan asked, in a mocking Southern twang. “Who ya talkin’ to?”

“Oh, no,” Jonah said. With wincing limps, he took a few steps forward as he shook his fist at Satan. “No! No! No! You’ve led me on and tripped me up and forced me to drive halfway across the U.S. only to have some hired goons drag me back again. You stuck me with that … that … thing you call Dale. You’ve lied to me and used me, and you stole my soul! I’ve been shot at and wanted by the law and almost choked to death and beaten down and knocked back! But you will not make me look like a lunatic in front of her!”

Satan never stopped grinning. He was obviously enjoying himself. “What are you asking?”

“I’m not asking anything! I’m demanding you make yourself known to her, you two-bit, sleazy, double-dealing son of a whore!”

“For the last time, I’m not a two-bit anything. It will serve you to know I have more bits than you can shake a stick at.”

“Just do it.”

“Are you sure it’s wise?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in all my days.”

“Who am I to deny a friend his dying wish?” Satan asked.

Without warning, Candy gasped, then scrambled backward along the baseboard and away from Lucifer. She came to a cowering rest against the dresser and stared up at the Devil. Her eyes went wide with shock for exactly ten seconds, then the surprise was replaced by a burning hatred.

“You!” she hollered, and lifted an accusing finger at Lucifer.

“Hello again, my lady,” Satan said, and gave a slight bow.

“Don’t you ‘lady’ me, you jerk wad!”

“You know him?” Jonah asked.

“Know him? I’ll never forget him!” Candy rose to her full height and fury, seething in quick breaths with a righteous anger, her nostrils flaring wide enough for one to see straight into her sinuses. “He’s the asshole who sold me that car!”

****

Reno, NV

26 hours: 27 minutes: 55 seconds remaining

“You said that Stanza would get at least three thousand miles!” Candy shouted.

“No,” Satan said. “I told you it would get up to three thousand miles. You should have paid more attention. But you were in an awful rush to get on the road. Weren’t you?”

Candy growled. Not just a grumble of words. The woman actually growled like an animal. “You know, it makes perfect sense that you’re working for Jack. What’d he do? Call you and let you know I was coming? No wonder I got that lemon so cheap.”

“Him?” Satan gave a low laugh. “Sweet cheeks, I hate to destroy your big, scary image of the man, but he’s a small dog. A very small dog. I like his style, but he still has a long way to go before he starts dealing with the likes of me.”

Candy cut her eyes at the Devil. “Then what are you doing here?”

Satan glanced at Jonah.

Candy followed the Devil’s glare. “You know him?”

“Well …” Jonah floundered for an answer before settling on the truth. “Yes?”

It was a matter of seconds before she started connecting whatever dots she thought she saw. “I get it now. It was set up from the start. You’re all working together. You planned that whole breakdown.”

“No. We know each other because … well … it’s hard to explain.”

“I’ll bet it is,” Candy sneered. “And you had the nerve to call me a liar?”