Dying Days (20 page)

“We’re saved,” Darlene said.

“No. That’s Azrael.” John worked frantically to move the block. “If we don’t move this he’ll shoot us dead as quick as he’ll shoot zombies.”

The grenade went off in the woods.

“Shit.” Darlene put her back into it to lift the cement block as a bullet bounced off of the fence next to her.

Chapter Thirteen

They got the cement block off to the side and John stepped over it, reaching back to help Darlene. “Behind you!” he shouted.

She turned, pulling her machete and cutting with it in one motion. An arm from the nearest undead flew into the water. She began hacking at its neck and on the third slice it severed.

“Let’s go, he’s still firing!” John urged her.

Darlene kicked another zombie back into the pack, who now pushed to get at her. The sound of bullets hitting zombies and ricocheting off of the asphalt was making her shake and she tried to duck and fight at the same time.

“Now!” John finally said. “He’ll shoot us both.”

She took one wide swing and cut into another neck before jumping back and over the cement block.

“Help me push it back!” John said as he gripped it again and put his shoulder into it. Darlene joined him, a bullet ricocheting just past her chin. It was easier to push it back into place and despite the hands trying to reach over and grab them they managed to set it so it couldn’t be moved.

“Run,” John said and began moving across the bridge, which was completely empty of debris, cars or bodies.

Darlene followed close behind, marveling at how odd it was to have found such refuge amidst all of the chaos. You could put your head down and imagine cars coming up behind you, tourists roaring toward the beaches. To either side the river lapped at the pylons, another lazy summer day.

The sound of gunfire receding in the distance broke her from the spell. When they got halfway over the bridge they stopped.

Another explosion rocked the trees, and they watched as smoke and fire billowed near the bridge, a tree dropping into the river.

“Was he throwing grenades?” Darlene asked.

“Yeah.” John put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. Finally he sat down in the middle of the bridge. “He won’t follow us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not really.” John put his head down on the sun-baked asphalt and stretched his legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Enjoying a nap. Grab it while you can.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Damn serious. Where else, besides back home, will you ever be safe? There’s no way the zombies can get to us.”

“What about … whatever his name is on the bike?” Darlene sat down next to him.

“If he wants to he’ll shoot us long distance. I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about the noise we created and the dozens of zombies amassing on the eastern end of the bridge.”

“Who is he?”

“I told you. Azrael.”

“Like the bad cat in the Smurfs cartoon?”

John laughed. “As in the Angel of Death.”

Darlene shrugged. “I think the old guy from the cartoon was worse.”

“Papa Smurf?”

“Forget it.” Darlene stood back up and brushed off her pants. “Who is he?”

“Some lunatic. He’s been around for a few months. He sets all of these roadblocks and traps. When we sent someone to talk to him he started shooting. Now we just stay clear of him and he inadvertently helps us with his work. That place that we met? He set all of that up; I just use it to kill them.”

“You mean the place where you tried to kill me?”

“Not quite. If I wanted to I would have killed you.”

Darlene laughed and playfully nudged him with her foot. “I’m too fast a target for you. I’m like a panther.”

“Really? I could’ve easily hit those boobs of yours.”

“Pervert,” Darlene said and went to kick him harder this time. John grabbed her foot and yanked her. She fell onto him and he circled her in a bear hug.

“You were saying?” he whispered in her ear.

Darlene immediately reacted in two very different ways: her body stiffened at his touch, so unused to physical contact that was not violent; and she also got wet. “Get off of me,” she said and rolled her eyes when her voice quivered. She wanted him inside of her, right here on the bridge, Azrael and zombies be damned.

“Sorry.” John pulled away from her and sat up. He turned his head away from her. “I got carried away.”

“It’s alright. Just two adults having some fun, right?”

“I’m married,” he finally said.

“I know.” Darlene stood and walked over to the edge, looking down at the water. “It’s just…”

“We should get going if we’re going to get home before dark.” John took a few steps away from Darlene.

“Is she out there?” Darlene asked.

“Yes. Somewhere she’s alive and waiting for me. She’s safe and right now laughing with my daughters.”

“I hope so.”

John turned and eyed her, his eyes swollen. “I can feel her, like she’s sending me messages or something.”

Darlene nodded. She really did hope for his sake that they were alive, no matter how remote the chance was. “Where’s your uniform?” she asked, changing the subject.

“What uniform?” John asked and turned back the way they’d come. “I think he left. I don’t hear gunfire or explosions.”

“That’s good.”

“The problem will be getting past the ones that were alerted on the other side by all of the noise. I hope we gave them enough time to get bored and move along.”

“Uniform,” Darlene said as she started walking.

“I still don’t get it.”

“You told me you were a cop. In every horror movie, especially zombie movies, the hero has a heart of gold, a knowing smile, and a cop uniform on.”

“Sorry. After a year I decided to retire the uniform and put on more comfortable clothes.”

“The uniform would have been better. It would give you that authority, that sense of righteous purpose.”

John snickered. “I already have a sense of righteous purpose.”

“Any idea what that is?”

“Not a clue.” John laughed. “But it sounds pompous. I like it.”

“I thought you would. And next time you talk about my tits I’ll shoot you.”

“As long as it’s with a bow, I’ll be safe.”

“Fuck you,” Darlene said and missed with a punch.

“You wish.”

You have no idea,
Darlene thought and tried to concentrate on walking next to him.

Chapter Fourteen

There was a soft thud on the stairs below her new house. Darlene drew her Desert Eagle, always on her side, and walked quietly to the front door. Someone or something was coming up the steps unannounced, a great way to get a bullet between the eyes.

She opened the door and trained the weapon on the top of the stairs.

Another step and then nothing. “Hello?” a female voice called up. “Are you home?”

“Bitch.” Darlene went to the stairs and looked down. Kayla was coming up the steps holding a picnic basket. Her white T-shirt was tight across her bra-less chest and tied under it, revealing her taut stomach and pierced bellybutton.

“I’m just bringing you a housewarming present.”

“A picnic basket?” Darlene asked, trying not to stare as Kayla came up and stood next to her.
I’m not a fucking lesbian, but she is sexy.
Darlene wanted to slap the thought from her head.

“No, me, silly.” Kayla laughed. “This is just for after, when we’re hungry.”

“I’ve already explained myself.” Darlene couldn’t help the edge in her voice. Kayla might be beautiful but she was also so damn arrogant.

“I’m just teasing. I brought a bottle of wine, some fresh cheese and crackers. Peter went into St. Augustine yesterday and I asked him to pick me up a few things.”

“That is kind,” Darlene said. “Won’t you come in?”

The house was a mess. Griff had decided after Darlene and John came back and told of the run-in with Azrael that she needed her own place to relax for a couple of days before deciding what she wanted to do. She knew what she wanted to do: stay for a few months, gather supplies, weapons and information, and then head back north to home. For now, this would be her home.

Most of the furniture was very expensive and very gaudy. The woman of the house – the owners were a middle-aged couple of obvious wealth – had made it very feminine, with gold trim, seraph ornaments, light colored rooms and muted amber hues on the upholstery. There were doilies and covers on almost everything. The family had owned horses, and there were statues, plaques and photos adorning every room in the house save for the back room.

The back room was the man’s cave, filled with football memorabilia, a sixty-inch plasma television, surround sound, and a vast pornography collection. Darlene had wasted no time in rummaging through the DVD’s in hope of finding something to take her mind off of things, but it was exclusively lesbian videos, and most of them of the group variety.

“It looks like the Soprano’s threw up in here,” Kayla blurted.

Darlene couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, they were definitely from New York or New Jersey. The guy has a room full of New York Jets crap. Want any of it?”

“Any baseball bats? We could always use weapons.” Kayla set the basket on the kitchen table as she moved through the rooms. “It could use some work, but nothing a garbage can couldn’t solve. I see they liked horses.”

“You could say that. I keep expecting to open up an extra bedroom and finding a zombie horse or something.”

“That would be fun. I’m sure we’ll be happy here together,” Kayla said.

“No fucking –“

“Wow, are you easy to rile up. I’m just busting your chops. Relax. I promise to not make you uncomfortable, as long as you stop staring at my tits. Is that fair?”

Darlene blushed and looked away. “No idea what you’re talking about, but not a problem.” Darlene went back into the kitchen and began unloading the basket.

Kayla came in and opened the cabinet, procuring two wine glasses. “These are probably worth a grand a piece.” She sat down at the table.

“Worthless now.” Darlene put the cheese and crackers onto a tray.

“Not really. Trust me, there’s always someone who wants what they haven’t got. Most of this junk here could be brought to the city and traded for perishables. There’s a market for just about anything.”

“The only thing I need short-term is new clothes. A nice, comfortable pair of jeans, some sneakers that fit, a pack of socks, a bra that doesn’t make my girls bounce when I run from zombies, and some panties.”

“You strike me as a g-string kinda gal,” Kayla said and grinned.

Darlene couldn’t help but smile. “You said you’d play nice.”

“You haven’t stopped looking at them yet.” Kayla sat up in her chair. “Say the word and this shirt comes off.”

“Pour the wine.” Darlene went to the drawer and got a knife for the cheese. “And I prefer thongs.”

‘I prefer nothing. It’s easier to bury your face that way.”

“You’re sick.” Darlene cut the cheese into squares and placed them on a plate, fixing the crackers in a nice pattern. “Lunch is served.”

Kayla sipped at the wine and ignored the food.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Darlene asked around a mouthful of cheese and crackers.

“I ate before I came over. This is for you.” Kayla tapped on a wine bottle. “I’m going to do a liquid lunch today. Won’t you join me?”

‘I think I might,” Darlene said with a laugh. She raised her glass. “A toast.”

Kayla lifted hers. “A toast to what?”

“Life.”