Bowie V. Ibarra (17 page)

“I’m moving as fast as I can,” said Steven.

Everyone jumped in the humvee and it drove off, tires slipping and squealing from the blood oozing across the pavement. The creatures tried to follow to no avail. Stacks of the dead, peppered with bullet holes, encircled the gas station.

“Woohoo!” yelled everyone in the vehicle.

“We kicked some major ass!” yelled Red from the driver seat.

“And man, did we get a lot of goods!” George exclaimed. “Gotta love it when a plan comes together! Way to go, Steven!”

“You got it, man,” said Steven.

“And look at this guy and the old school eighties windbreaker,” commented George. “Where’d you get that?”

Steven hesitated for a moment, but then said, “I took it from the employees’ lounge in the back of the store.”

He neglected to tell them about the body that had been devoured in the back and the bite it had given him. He was sweating, hiding the pain.

“We did it, guys,” said George. “Thank you all. The favor is appreciated!”

“Hey, I know I’d want help getting home, my friend,” said Red. “You need to talk with me about that, too.” He nervously made eye contact with George through the rearview mirror, but quickly looked away. He seemed troubled.

“All right,” said George, looking at Steven. “Hey man, take off that jacket. You look like you’re burning up.”

“No man, I’m fine,” he replied.

They arrived back at the base before noon, still in time for breakfast.

Misty approached George and gave him a big hug.

“See, I told you I’d be fine,” said George.

“I prayed for you, George. I’m glad you’re back!”

“Thank you,” he replied.

“Hey George,” said Alex as they took their meal from the buffet-style setup. “Come talk to us later.”

A little curious, but sensing a need for subtlety, George responded, “Cool. Where?”

“The garage.”

“Sounds good.”

Steven walked in with the cases of beer. “Hey guys, anyone want some Natural?”

Several voices from the group, many of whom George hadn’t even met, called out, “Right here!” or “Alright!”

After passing out several beers and getting a handshake or two, Steven started to leave.

“Hey Steven, aren’t you having lunch?” Red asked.

“Nah. I’m going over to my area for a bit,” he said, sweating profusely and looking pale. Knowing he was receiving some odd glances, he added, “I had some beef jerky on the ride back and it’s not sitting well.”

Everyone else sat down and ate.

Outside, the creatures continued to walk around. In growing numbers.

Some were beginning to scratch at the barriers.

At around three o’clock in the afternoon, George left Misty napping in their room while he made his way to the garage to meet with Alex and Red.

“Hey guys,” said George as he entered, giving them a cordial wave.

Red shook his hand and closed the door behind him. “Anyone follow you?”

“No. Why?”

“Come over here,” said Alex, taking George to a corner of the room.

Red followed and they all sat down on metal folding chairs. Alex handed George a bottle of water. Red, looking nervous, stood up again and kept a keen eye on the door.

Alex stated, “We want to go with you and Misty.”

“Well, that’s great,” said George, not wanting a change of plans, “But I’m going to San Uvalde.”

“That’s fine,” replied Alex. “We just need to get to the intersection at 410 and 90. It’s on your way home.”

“What’s there for you?”

“My ride,” Red said. He explained that there was a storage facility just off 410 where he stored his souped-up Ford truck. Big tires. Flood lights. Grill guard. A big blue machine. He added, “We want to get it and head to Poth. I hear they’ve settled in and secured their city.”

“Made damn near a castle out of their city hall located on their plaza,” said Alex. “We hear they have about eight city blocks secured in a kind of square around the city hall.” Alex took a swig from the water bottle, spat, and continued, “But get this: Inside that square was a bakery, a grocery store, and a gun shop. They’re set, at least for another few weeks. And maybe all this will blow over by then.”

“It’s such a small town,” said Red, “that once the outbreak occurred, they decided to meet in the center and secure the area, creating their own quarantine area around City Hall.”

A glimmer of hope suddenly sprang into George’s heart. Uvalde was very much like Poth; at least the Uvalde he remembered. George thought that perhaps they’d quarantined the city on their own and were holding out against the plague on their own terms.

“It was led by the mayor,” said Alex. “He’s the old school country type that called all the men to arms when infections started plaguing their city. He ignored the federal calls and edicts and took care of his people his own way. Bottom line, though, is they’re in good shape. And FEMA hasn’t tried to fuck with them yet.”

“If you ask me,” said George, “I don’t think FEMA gives a shit anymore. They’re done.”

“You’re probably right,” said Red.

“But here’s the other thing,” said Alex, cryptically, looking at Red as if Red knew just what he was going to say.

“What?” asked George, a bit apprehensive at the sudden urgency.

“I wanted to tell you at breakfast, but I didn’t,” said Alex.

“What?” George asked again.

“It’s Alphonso.”

“What about him?”

“We heard Richardson and Frasier talking the other day. About you.”

“What’d they say?” asked George, his pulse rising.

“George,” said Red, keeping a soft tone, “Did you know someone named Esparanza?”

A shot of nervousness thumped George’s heart. He replied, “Yes. I had a fiancée named Esparanza -Esparanza Garcia.”

Red and Alex cast a glance at each other, then bowed their heads.

George felt a lump in his throat. “What did you hear, guys?”

“George,” said Alex, “You’d better take a deep breath and please, please think before you do anything.”

George took a deep breath.

Alex said, “Alphonso was a drug dealer. The two guys with him were with the Austin Police Department. Richardson and Frasier were Alphonso’s men on the inside, helping him run drugs and squash the competition.”

Something in George finally clicked. Missing puzzle pieces began to form a clearer picture.

Drug deal gone bad?

“George, my friend,” said Alex, “Alphonso and those men are responsible for your fiancée’s death. They killed her. They killed Esparanza Garcia.”

George sat stunned for several moments, his eyes wide, staring. Red and Alex let him sit, not knowing what more to say. Besides, how else do you tell a man that you know the person responsible for his loved one’s death, other than putting it bluntly?

Though things were becoming clearer for George, there were still questions that definitely needed answers. He suddenly blurted, “I’m going to find him. I’m going to find them. They’re going to tell me what happened.” His voice got louder now. Clearer. Sterner. “And I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill them all.”

Red and Alex looked at each other, then again turned their faces down.

Tears began to form in George’s eyes, but they were not tears of sadness. They were tears of rage.

“Listen to me,” said Red, “It’s time for us to go. Alex and me, we’re decent people. We knew Alphonso was a drug dealer, but we didn’t want to leave a place where we were safe. When he first came in here, he came in that APD van with the other two guys. The back was full of pot and coke.” He indicated to the paddy wagon in the parking lot. “He keeps most of the others happy with his supply. Good for several months. That’s why most of the people never made an effort to meet you guys or come out on supply missions. They were high. They probably don’t even fully comprehend that the world’s going to shit.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” George mouthed, trembling as he tried to contain his anger.

“What do you want us to do?” asked Alex. “We can get the door guys now and get ready to leave. We know them. They’ll let us out.”

“Yes,” said George. “Do that.”

Red added, “We’ll grab our gear and anything we want to take and pack it in now. I’ll fetch Misty and send her over here. After we’re packed, get the door guys and wait in the vehicle. We’ll talk then.”

“George, don’t do anything until we’re packed,” said Alex. “If you’re really going to kill Alphonso, we all need to be able to get out of here in a hurry. So wait until we all meet back here. Okay?”

George didn’t reply.

“Okay?” Alex repeated.

After a moment George finally nodded, gritting his teeth.

Alex and Red looked at each other.

“Pack it up,” said Red.

Alex and Red proceeded to grab their gear, which was mostly in the garage, and stuffed it all in the humvee.

George went back to his room. Misty was not there. He went to the hall and called out for her, but received no reply. He went back in the room and hurriedly grabbed their things, then went back down to the garage and packed it in the humvee.

“Where’s Misty?” asked Red, noticeably concerned.

“She wasn’t around,” said George.

The gate guys were putting on their gear.

“What now?” asked Alex.

“I’m going to go find Misty,” George matter-of-factly replied. “And I’m going to kill those men. Be ready to leave when I get back.”

Alex approached George and extended a hand. “You be careful. Be smart. Be safe.”

Safe and swift, thought George. He replied, “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

“Take this,” said Alex, handing him a.45 handgun.

George loaded the weapon, switched off the safety, and walked to the door. Without turning to face them again, he said, “If I’m not back in thirty minutes, leave without me.”

THE AFTERNOON SUN was shining down on the inner plaza as George exited the building and entered the concourse. Several people sat in distant corners around the plaza, smoke drifting from their mouths and wafting up into the air.

From a door in the distance, near the barrier by the Mercado building, Frasier whistled at George and signaled him to approach.

George almost lifted his weapon, but didn’t want to attract attention.

Frasier ducked back into the building.

George realized that they knew what was coming. He jogged to where Frasier was and cautiously entered the building. He saw a set of spiraling stairs leading to the roof. Frasier stood at the very top, but before George could get a clean shot, Frasier disappeared again.

George took the stairs two at a time.

When he exited out a hatch at the top, he saw his three targets near the edge of the building by the street at the far end.

He didn’t expect to see Misty however, with her hands bound behind her back and a gag shoved in her mouth. Alphonso had a tight grip on her hair. A large bruise was swelling up below her right eye and her face was soaked with tears. The collar of her shirt was ripped all the way down to her breasts and her bare legs were showing, skirt nowhere to be seen, her skimpy underwear protecting the last of her modesty. She was trembling.

Please don’t fail.

Birds began to chirp in the trees of the plaza near the roof.

“George Zaragosa,” said Alphonso. “I had a feeling you’d figure it out.”

George pulled out his gun. His three adversaries pulled out theirs. Before George could get a shot off, Alphonso yelled, “Shoot us and the girl’s lunch!”

George hesitated, but continued to step forward, gun pointed at Alphonso.

“Not another step, asshole,” said Richardson.

George stopped.

Please don’t fail.

“Drop your gun and let’s talk,” offered Alphonso.

George let out a deep breath and slowly lowered his gun.

“Bring him here, guys,” Alphonso commanded, motioning to his two lackeys.

They holstered their guns and approached George, then secured his hands with a zip tie behind his back, and led him to Alphonso. George stood face to face with him as the lackeys breathed down his neck from behind.

“It’s kind of sad,” said Alphonso. “How we have to meet like this, I mean. You seem like a really nice guy who is just a victim of circumstance -Of things out of your control. Like cute little Misty here.” At this point he yanked on her hair a bit, causing her to whimper. “She told me she met you at the camp in New Braunfels. You were her hero, she tells me. Do you know why she liked you when she met you, George?”

“No,” said George.

“She thought you were nice,” he said. “Isn’t that nice, George? You’re her hero.”

George looked away. Frasier and Richardson began to chuckle.

Please…

“All her life, she had been mistreated. An abusive mother. An alcoholic father. Did you know this? Did you ever take the time to talk to her? Or were you just too busy fucking her brains out?”

George rolled his eyes in disgust.

“A sweet girl. Sweet girl, George,” Alphonso said. He released his grip on Misty’s hair so he could retrieve a cigarette from his breast pocket. “I made sure you found out who I was. I made sure your friends heard it from my friends.” He pulled out a book of matches and lit the cigarette. “I knew it would come to this.” He threw the match over the side. “The nice guy… The nice girl.”

Misty whimpered louder.

“Esparanza was nice, too,” said Alphonso. “Until she hurt my friends here, that is.” Both men stood tall. Shaken, but not stirred at the memory. Alphonso took a drag off the cigarette, then put it back between his fingers. “So I had to kill her, George.”