Read Crusade (Eden Book 2) Online
Authors: Tony Monchinski
Crusade (Eden Book 2) (19 page)
“
Guuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrllllllllllllllll
,” crooned John—
“Dung-dung-dung-dung,” intoned Mister Marcus.
“—
you’ll be a woman, soooooooooooooooon
—Damn!” John sat down. “Sometimes, sometimes the spirit just
moves
me.”
Mickey sat staring. This was all so unreal. Like a David Lynch film.
“You should close your mouth, son,” John said, “before the flies move in. Cigarillo, Mister Marcus?”
He produced a shiny silver cigarette holder from his furs and popped it open. He took out two short, narrow cigars and handed one over to Mister Marcus.
“Let me see that.” Mister Marcus reached over and took the lighter from Buddy’s hand. Buddy did not protest. “Thanks.”
He lit his cigar, “Nice lighter,” and then passed the Zippo to John who did the same. He tossed the lighter back to Mister Marcus and Mister Marcus rolled the wheel, toying with it.
“So, pretty lady.” John turned his gaze on Julie. “This baby of yours—”
“
Never
!” The woman who travelled with the three men spoke for the first time.
“What’s that Emily?” John said. “Listen up, all. The little woman has something she wants to say.”
“Never.” The woman’s eyes looked drugged, Gwen thought. “That child must not be.”
“
What
?” Julie said.
“Yeah,” Gwen said. “
What
?”
“This world,” said Emma or Emily or whatever her true name was. “No child must be brought into this world.”
“It is sort of inhospitable,” Mister Marcus said, dislodging another gob of meat from a gap in his teeth. He held his thumb out to Mickey and when the other man blanched he shrugged and dipped it back into his own mouth. “You gotta admit.”
The lighter had disappeared somewhere in his furs.
“Excuse me,” Gwen said. She was angry now. “You have no fucking right to decide for my friend—”
“No sweetheart,” John said. “
You
have no anything. And the language ain’t no call for.”
“I were you,” Mister Marcus said, “I’d just sit there and shut my dick hole.”
“Fuck you, you—”
“Mister Marcus, Mister Marcus. You heard me reprimand the lady for her tongue just now, didn’t you?”
“Come on, John,” L.A. spoke up. “Let’s leave ‘em alone…”
“What have I told you about addressing me, boy? Did the Mayans dare to gaze directly upon the mighty Atahualpa?”
“You’re crazy,” Gwen said. “You’re all fucking crazy, aren’t you? Do you really think you’re some kind of God?”
“Language.” John shook his head. “You really don’t get it, do you? This is going to end bad for—”
“John, come on—”
“L.A..”
There was wrath in his voice. As John reached over to take the bottle from the woman, Bear materialized from behind him like a bad dream come from the night, pressing one Glock to the back of the man’s scraggly-haired head. In his other hand was a second Glock, the one with the green laser sight, and there was a green dot on Mister Marcus’s chest.
“Do it,” Bear said. Mister Marcus took his focus off his rifle and stared at the shadow looming behind John.
“Well,” John said, and he didn’t sound scared. “I don’t think we’ve had the chance to be acquainted. Judging by the look on Mister Marcus’s face, you must be a sight to behold.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Bear said.
L.A. sat, frozen, frightened.
“If you shoot me, you’ll bring every zombie for miles around to your camp fire. Ya’ll can sing—”
He cracked John over the head with the Glock. The man groaned and leaned forward but remained seated.
“Like I said,
friend
, we ain’t been acquainted. My name is John Book, and these good folk here with—”
“
John Book
?” Mickey shouted. “John Book was Harrison Ford’s character’s name in
Witness
. Your name isn’t John Book, you bastard!”
“He sure is,” Mister Marcus said, watching Bear, “and
we’re
his witnesses!”
“Here’s how this goes, you sick bastards.” Gwen had retrieved her M16A4 and stood. Julie was behind her, the .357 and .380 drawn. “One at a time, you’re going to stand and you’re going to take off your coats, nice and slow. Any weapons you have,
anything
, you’re going to dump them right here.”
John Book was the last of the four to shed his furs and weapons.
“I’m gonna miss that pistol,” he said as he lay the Desert Eagle down reverently. He turned to face Bear behind him for the first time. “Well, you are a big one, ain’t cha’?”
When they were done they stood, the four of them, L.A. and the woman shivering in the cold. Bear continued to loom behind John, one Glock to the man’s head, the laser sight on Mister Marcus.
Mickey picked up the green bottle and drained the contents in the snow. John Book shook his head as the last of the liquid flowed out.
“Now, you’re going to walk off, into the dark, away from us, and you’re not coming back,” Gwen said. “If you do, I’ll kill you.”
“I’ll kill you,” Julie whispered, looking at the woman.
“Well,” John said. “This ain’t exactly neighborly behavior, is it?”
“You like getting hit in the head?” Bear asked.
“Hear me out for one second, okay friends? Hear me this: You’ll look back on this night with regret. You took me and Mister Marcus and our companions here for a threat, yet I implore you, ask yourselves, what threat did a starving old man and his three friends ever pose you? You can’t be serious believing that was actually zombie meat—”
“You threatened my baby!” Julie snapped.
“I merely advanced an opinion, pretty lady—”
Bear cut off the conversation by smashing the man in the head again with the butt of his pistol. John Book almost went down but remained standing. He blinked several times until he was finally able to speak.
“Okay, okay, okay,
friend
.” He looked at Julie. “See you later, pretty lady.” Then he looked at Gwen and he winked at her.
“Go, now,” Gwen said to Mister Marcus. He exhaled, and she couldn’t help but think for a man who should be scared, who should be very afraid, this guy wasn’t. He was taking his cues from John Book, and that guy was cool as a –
“Wait,” L.A. protested with his one hand. “Can I—”
“L.A., shut up! Come on.” Mister Marcus took Emma and L.A. each by an arm. “Let’s get.”
He led them off into the dark.
John stood there with Bear’s 9mm pressed to the back of his head. They waited quietly for several minutes, listening to the receding crunch-crunch-crunch of Mister Marcus, the woman and L.A.’s feet in the snow. When they couldn’t hear them any longer Gwen turned to John.
“Now,
you
. Go.”
“You sendin’ them out there without their coats.”
“You too.” Gwen said.
“You know what that means, don’t you?”
“Go figure it out.”
Bear propelled him ahead several feet by shoving the barrel of his Glock against the man’s head.
He went to reach for the cooler but Mickey yelled, “No!” and kicked it off into the night. “No!”
“That’s the problem with the world, today,” John said as he walked off after his companions. “Everybody’s so damn unfriendly.”
They listened to him leave. Buddy hadn’t moved the entire time.
“Are you okay, Julie?” Gwen turned.
“Yeah, I’m—I mean, I’m shook up, but I’m okay.”
“Bear, oh thank God. How long were you there?”
“Long enough. I wasn’t going to let them hurt any of you.”
“Then you heard, you heard that guy’s song?”
He nodded.
“Crazy,” Mickey said. “They’re crazy, aren’t they?”
“Whatever they are,” Bear said, “they’ve made it this far. Mickey, do me a favor. I left a whole bunch of wood for the fire over here. Come help me get it.”
Julie went over to Buddy and crouched down next to him.
“You okay?”
He either didn’t hear her or ignored her.
Gwen stood looking in the direction the four strangers had gone, one hand wrapped around the vertical grip of her M16A4, the other around the pistol grip, index finger resting on the trigger guard.
Julie reached out and put her hands on Buddy’s shoulders, then touched his cheeks.
“Oh, you’re so cold.” She grabbed a rolled blanket strapped to the top of Mickey’s backpack. She unfurled it and draped it over his shoulders, tucking it in around his chest.
A few minutes later Mickey and Bear returned with the wood. They stacked most of it and fed the fire the rest. The flames rose and the circle of illumination spread further outwards.
“You should think about getting some sleep,” Bear spoke to the group. Looking at Julie he added, “Especially you.”
“I don’t think I can sleep after that.”
“Me neither,” Gwen said.
“Think about the baby,” Bear said.
That was the problem, Julie thought. She
was
thinking about the baby. And so was that strange woman with those…those men.
“I’ll keep watch. You guys try and rest.”
“I don’t know,” Julie said.
“It’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you or the baby.”
She believed him.
“What about you?” Mickey asked.
“You guys sleep for a few hours. I’ll wake one of you to trade places with me.”
Within a half hour the three of them were bedded down around the fire. Only Buddy and Bear remained awake. Buddy sat on his log and stared at his empty hands. Bear had moved beyond the glow of the fire to the shadows and stood with his back to a tree.
He watched Buddy from his vantage point. He thought about the man and his situation, worried for him. He was just beginning to wonder if Buddy could physically relieve himself, or if they’d be forced to change him when he soiled himself, when he stood and walked away from the fire.
He was gone for some time. After awhile Bear thought the man might have wandered off and was gone for good. He might freeze to death out there on a night like this. But Bear had no intention of leaving the dark outside the glow of the fire, of leaving his three friends alone here. He had promised Julie.
When the sounds of footsteps plodding through the snow reached his ears, a warning immediately went off in his head. This was not Buddy returning to camp. He could not have made that much noise if he tried to, could he? Whoever was coming wasn’t taking any precautions to minimize the racket they were making.
He moved from his position against the tree to intercept whoever it was, confident that so long as he kept himself from being backlit by the fire he would remain unseen in this moonless night. He hoped he was wrong and it was Buddy. He had the Glock with the green laser sight in one hand and wished he hadn’t left the mace back at the fire with his other possessions. If he had to fire with the pistol he would, but then, like that man John Book had said, every zombie within hearing would be on them.
The other man was moving through the dark, his step unsteady. He slipped to one knee in the snow, righted himself, moved on.
Bear took L.A. from behind. One mighty hand wrapped around the scrawny man’s neck, lifting him up to his tippy toes then off the ground. L.A. reached for Bear’s wrist and forearm with his one good hand and the half that was the other, gasping, blurting out, “way-wait-wuh—” before Bear’s other hand clamped around his jaw. L.A. tried to shake his head free but with a mighty twist Bear broke his neck.
