Dead Drunk II: Dawn of the Deadbeats (Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time Book 2) (7 page)

Jen’s
shoulders sank and she let out a deep sigh. “Padma was right. We all cope with
grief differently, and I think maybe my way is being a cunty bitch. My bad.”

“Hug it out,”
Jackie said. The two women did, albeit reluctantly, and the tension dropped
immediately.

“Girls’
night!” Jen said and laughed awkwardly. “We don’t have liquor, so let’s do
makeup.”

“We don’t
have makeup either,” Jackie said.

“The lady that
got cut in half over there had a bunch in her locker,” Jen said. “I kind of hid
it from you all. Sorry.”

Mary was
tentative. “I’ve never worn makeup before.”

“O-M-G. Then
you get to go first,” Jen said and smiled at her with genuine warmth. “I have a
great idea on what we can do with you. Nothing bold, but I think you’ll like
it.”

Minutes later
they were applying and primping and laughing, with Mary being the loudest of
them all. No, she didn’t look very pretty – she was still as plain as vanilla
and pigeon-toed like no other – but she sure felt marvelous. And there was
something to be said for that.

Caught up in
the moment, nobody noticed the small boat arriving on the far side of the
station. Two men tied off and moved in the direction of the laughter and
lanterns.

The idea to
look for the abandoned child was settled, but the method of doing so had not
been. After some arguing and mild swearing, Smokey convinced his friends he
would hotwire the lone car in the parking lot. “Time me,” he said and ran
outside. The car door was unlocked and Smokey slid into the driver’s seat. Less
than thirty seconds later the brake lights came on and Cher could be heard
blasting on the stereo before he could shut the CD player off.

 “Ugh,
she’s the worst,” Charlie said as he and Rob climbed into the red Dodge
Caliber. “And before you even say something stupid I realize you probably
learned that from watching some dumbass show. So let’s just get on with it,” he
added. “And good job, that was fast. You being a worthless turd the past ten
years has saved our lives I don’t know how many times now.”

“I was
yanking your chain. Found the keys in the dead dude’s pocket,” Smokey said
while smiling deeply and pulling away. He hadn’t gotten much validation in his
life, and it was a nice feeling. Even if he had been called a turd.

“Well, good
job anyways, now let’s find the place.” Charlie grabbed Smokey’s rifle and
scanned the streets of Biggsburg for any movement, cannibal or otherwise. The
place seemed to be a ghost town though, and they travelled a few blocks without
so much as a squirrel crossing their path.

“Man, if we
could just get to the interstate and haul ass, we could be at my parents’ house
in an hour,” Charlie said, thinking out loud.

“But the
roads aren’t safe,” Rob countered. “And Left-Nut needs us. And Sam. And maybe a
kid.”

“I know, I
know. It would just be nice. That’s all I’m saying. Get to my mom and dad’s and
the military base is right past it.”

“Soon,” Rob
said, showing a bit of wisdom that usually eluded him like so many
cheeseburgers had not. “You’ll see her soon. She has to be safer at that base
than anywhere else right now.”

Smokey pulled
up to an intersection and, sure enough, Main Street was the road with the
taller buildings on it. Now they just had to look for the address, which
according to the numbers was just a block or so away.

“Can’t get
any easier than this.”

“Don’t jinx
it,” Rob said.

Seconds later
they stopped in front of an apartment building and got out. Smokey checked the
mailbox to determine the right apartment and the others followed him through
the shattered front door and up a set of stairs. Other than the door, nothing
seemed out of place except the complete silence. They soon found apartment 2A
right by the stairs.

Smokey
jiggled the handle and it was locked, so he pulled up the welcome mat featuring
a tropical beach and produced a key as Charlie rolled his eyes. He slowly
pushed the door open and backed up while Rob stepped forward, ready to bash any
surprises this time. But there was only dead silence.

The guys
walked inside. “Hello?” Charlie said quietly, but there was no answer. The
place looked as though it had been recently lived in, and there was a bag of
garbage by the front door that had no rotting food in it. There were toys
scattered around, but no kid.

Smokey
checked the garbage bag and pulled out several boxes. “Grape cough syrup,” he
said. “Trent and I used to drink that stuff and get high as rainclouds. That’s
Robo-tripping for you nerds. Anyways, one night he thought there were clowns
behind him in the mirror, and that was the last time we did that.”

 “Very
interesting,” Charlie said dryly and shrugged. “But this place is empty. Look
for anything useful and let’s jet.” He looked to Rob. “At least we checked.”

Smokey wasn’t
so sure. “Hold up, partner.” He pointed to a family picture on the mantel.
There was the man Rob had killed in the doctor’s office, standing with a woman
and a small child. Another frame showed off a picture of a chubby baby boy with
the name Todd written on it.

“Toddy, where
are you, buddy? I got some candy,” Smokey said in a funny voice. Faint giggling
could be heard coming from the living room closet. He opened the door and found
the one-year-old snuggled up in dinosaur blankets.

“We found
him, now what?” Charlie said. “Maybe his mom is out somewhere, like the dad.
She comes home and the baby’s gone and her husband’s dead.  Talk about a
tearjerker. Plus, then we’re baby stealers.”

“Nah, parents
wouldn’t both leave their child behind like that,” Smokey said. He tried to
pick the kid up, and it became immediately clear what the cough syrup had been
used for. Little Todd became startled by the unknown man and erupted in a level
of sound and fury that was quite substantial for a tot that size.

“Shut that
kid up,” Charlie said as flashbacks of the Brandon incident came blasting into
his mind. Noise equaled zombies equaled death.

“Like, how?”
Smokey asked. He wasn’t the type of person a sober parent would let watch their
kid, and so his time with young ones was extremely limited.

“Give him
something to play with,” Charlie said and looked for a suitable toy on the
floor.

Smokey handed
Mr. Personality the car keys to shake, but the kid was not amused, and screamed
even louder – if that was possible.

“Dude was
giving the kid medicine to keep it quiet, like that chick in Florida,” Rob
surmised. “That’s messed up.”

Charlie
looked out the window and shook his head. “True, but I wish we had some.” Like
he’d expected, the tantrum had zombies already gathering outside, and many
began finding their way through the broken front door. In no time the hungry
beasts would pinpoint their location.

“Oh, duh,”
Smokey said and produced a small dinosaur toy from his pocket. It was a plush
T-rex, and the one Todd’s father had in his pocket upon reaching his final
destination. The baby grabbed the toy and calmed down as shambling footsteps
came up the stairs and stopped outside their door. Everyone held their breath
until the cannibals could be heard walking back down the stairs.

And then
little Toddy squeaked the toy, loudly and repeatedly. The zombies came back
with a vengeance, pounding on the flimsy door and threatening to burst in at
any second.

“Shit, shit,
shit!” Charlie looked outside to see several zombies milling about below the
window, cutting off their route back to the car. “Shit! I knew this was a dumb
idea.”

“What’s the
plan?” Smokey asked.

“Kick ass,
take names,” Rob said casually. He wasn’t much of a planner, but he was an ass
kicker.

Charlie
nodded. “Okay, but… what the hell?”

Rob jumped
out the second story window and obliterated a zombie with his bat on the way
down. Two quick swings left two more dead cannibals that didn’t even know what
hit them. But a fourth one got in close, much too close, and Rob was forced to
grab the lady by the throat. He squeezed and squeezed until his hand sunk
through the woman’s skin and into her flesh. Rob felt the prickly vertebrae and
whipped his wrist to the side, breaking the teacher aide’s neck in twain. He
dropped the tiny woman and rubbed his hands on the grass, then massaged his
throbbing and badly sprained ankle.

Now Rob was
outside and alone, and the others were inside and still trapped. He waved up
and whispered, “Jump down, I’ll catch you.”

“Why not?”
Charlie gripped his rifle tightly in his hands and took a leap of faith. Rob
caught him easily but put even more strain on his ankle in the process.

Now it was
Smokey’s turn, and of course, he was terrified of heights. So he hesitated in
the window while gently rocking the baby, and tried to muster up the courage to
jump.

Charlie
glared at Rob. “You just crossed that thin line between bravery and stupidity.
Acting like the hero is gonna get you killed. So knock it off, this ain’t a
movie.”

“Like when
Russ saved everyone? Or when you rescued Brandon?” Rob said while swiveling
around, searching for any more threats.

Charlie
nodded. “Yeah, I’m guilty too. Look, there’s a time for reacting and a time for
planning things out. Just try to follow my lead. That being said, holy crap,
that was awesome.”

Rob set the
kill-stick down and opened his arms wide. “Smokey, if you don’t jump I’m gonna
punch you silly the next time I see you. Remember what I did to Trent?”

As he talked,
a heavily smashed but not thoroughly dead zombie crawled up behind him. The
mess of a taxi driver moved slowly enough to go unnoticed, and would soon be
within striking distance. Although its eyes had been knocked clear out if its
head by Rob’s bat, it could evidently still hear and smell him quite clearly.
And to a zombie, Rob was a whole mountain of meat, a veritable smorgasbord.

Rob’s pep
talk was enough and Smokey ultimately jumped, clutching on to the toddler for
dear life while wearing a backpack full of diapers and toys.

“Did somebody
order a manny?” he said upon landing, happy to be on the ground for sure.

Suddenly the
nightmarish zombie lunged forward as Rob was distracted, but he didn’t get far.

“Sorry buddy,
not today,” Charlie said and curb-stomped the pitiful thing into oblivion,
splattering it onto the pavement like a June bug.

Things were
looking up until little Toddy started screaming again as the shock from the
fall wore off and his stranger danger kicked back in. This kid had some serious
lungs on him too.

“Let’s ride,”
Charlie said urgently as several zombies made their way from the building.
Smokey looked at Todd and his eyes got big.

“Where’s the
keys?” Charlie asked.

“Um, the baby
had them. I guess they’re still in the apartment.

“Now
that’s
the Smokey I remember,” Charlie said. Three runners approached and he was
forced to use up the last of the QBZ-95 ammunition. Two fell instantly, but one
kept coming despite massive internal bleeding. So Charlie pulled his newly
acquired pistol from his pocket and grinned, Indiana Jones like.

It promptly
misfired due to the burr on the inside of the magazine that caused a feeding
issue. Charlie didn’t know that –he simply knew the bullet didn’t come out. He
palmed the useless hunk of metal and bashed the creature’s face in, kicking it once
for the hell of it. “There’s too many, we’ll have to hoof it,” he added,
unaware of Rob’s injury.

With no other options, the
slightly overweight substitute teacher, the three-hundred-pound plus MMA
fighter with an injured ankle, and the pot smoking know-it-all carrying a baby
took off at a rather dismal speed.

“We need to make it about a mile
and then we can lose them in the forest,” Charlie said while slowing down for
his friends. At that point he noticed Rob’s limp, and knew then and there that
they wouldn’t make it.

The lead zombie was gaining on
them, so Charlie doubled back and hammered it with his empty rifle, using the
thing’s own speed against it but falling down in the process. He got up and
caught the others as they passed the strip mall parking lot and entered the
field behind it. Todd had been screaming the entire way, and more zombies
joined the chase.

The tree line was just a quarter
of a mile off, but Rob wasn’t going to make it. His lungs burned, his ankle was
even worse off than it had been, and he was close to having a heart attack. Not
to mention he was hungry.

Rob stopped running. “You guys
go.”

“No way, Charlie said. “Maybe I
can get them chasing me in another direction.”

“Not with the
kid screaming. No, you go,” Rob said with determination and sadness etched on
his face.

 “I’m
not—”

“Now!” The
matter clearly wasn’t up for discussion, but Charlie had already lost too many
friends, and so he lingered.

“Go!” Rob
shoved hard against his best friend’s chest as Smokey disappeared into the
forest and the zombies got closer.

Charlie
nodded. “Fine. I told you this hero shit would get you killed.” Tears ran
freely down his face. “Fucking Left-Nut.”

“Later,
muchacho.” His features hardening, the Titan of the Midwest, Viking Rob
Magnusson, went into beast mode one final time as Charlie ran off, unable to
look back.

All alone,
Rob spit on his hands and lifted his trusty bat, bent and dinged from countless
kill shots. The mob closed in, but the giant didn’t wait for them. Instead, he
roared an improvised battle cry and charged, ignoring the pain in his ankle and
the natural instinct to flee. This man truly had been born in the wrong era.

The battle
was met and Rob smashed two skulls with the first swing, and the force whipped
him around in a full circle whereupon he obliterated a third with the same
glorious blow. Next he brought the bat up and down as if chopping wood,
dropping foes one bloody explosion at a time.

They kept
coming, Rob kept swinging and the bodies piled up like dirty dishes. But the
adrenaline soon ebbed and he began to grow tired. His swings slowed and some of
the infected got up again, having been stunned, not killed. He pounded them
again, even stomped a few for good measure. But they kept coming. The crimson bat
slipped from Rob’s tired grasp as he fell to his knees, and they kept coming.

One
nightmarish beast lurched from Rob’s side and he didn’t even see it. But
Charlie did, and he hammered it with the butt end of his machine gun, finishing
it off with a couple of clumsy bashes.

“Never leave
a man behind, remember?” he said while helping his friend rise.

“Acting like
a hero’s gonna get you killed, Chuck,” Rob said and beamed a smile, partially
reinvigorated.

“No shit,”
Charlie answered as the final half-dozen stragglers attacked all at once.

The problem
was that Charlie was built for speed, not fighting, and as the melee got hot
and heavy he was getting in the way more than helping. At one point, he barely
avoided getting himself maimed by stepping into Rob’s kill zone, and ended up
dropping his awkwardly shaped assault rifle at the worst possible moment.
Forced to grapple with a biter, he was lucky that it was smaller and weaker.
Even so, Charlie ended up on his back with the slobbering fiend searching for
an opening.