Dying Days (5 page)

Barbara looked at Darlene. "Get back to work."

Five minutes later Darlene heard a muffled gunshot from outside and glanced at the pile of boxes. She wondered if she could get through the pile and through whatever door was there before she was chased.

When Jesse came back he smiled at her and waved the Desert Eagle. "This baby can shoot. One shot and his freakin' head blew off." Jesse put the weapon back in his waistband. "Plus, Ritter found me so much ammo for this baby I could probably shoot my way out of Buffalo."

It took everything for Darlene not to charge him, knowing he was trying to get a rise out of her. Instead, she went back to work peeling potatoes.

Jesse came up to her and waved the weapon at her. "So close and yet so far away, right?"

Barbara came up slowly on Jesse with a look of distress on her face. "Jesse, please leave the kitchen."

Jesse ignored her, staring at Darlene, eyes wandering over her body as he licked his lips. "I wonder what you'd do to get it back?"

Barbara put a hand tentatively on his shoulder. "Please, you need to go."

Jesse grabbed Barbara in a headlock and put the gun to her head before she could react. She began screaming. He smiled at Darlene again. "I bet if I shot this bitch in the head you wouldn't even blink, would you?"

"Please don't," Darlene said quietly. As much as she hated the women she had no desire to see her head blown to pieces, and especially if she unwittingly had something to do with it. "Just let her go and you and I can talk."

"Talk? Fuck that noise, bitch. We'll be bumping and grinding before the night is through."

Jesse released Barbara and knocked her on the floor. "Stay there, bitch, or I will shoot you. I don't care what this whore says."

"But you'll care what Doug says," Rusty said from the doorway, a .357 in hand. "Secure that weapon and get over here."

Jesse leaned forward at Darlene as he raised the Desert Eagle. "We'll continue this later, and that fat ass of yours will be mine."

"Now, Jesse. You were told she was off-limits." Rusty held out his left hand, the right still holding the gun at Jesse. "Hand it over."

"Bullshit."

"Fine." Rusty smiled. "I'll let Doug know you were messing with his property and refused a direct order from his second-in-command. Where do you think that will get you?"

"In the pit," Jesse said quietly.

Rusty went nose-to-nose with Jesse. "I didn't hear you, soldier."

"Sir, in the pit, sir," Jesse said. He handed over the Desert Eagle. With one final nasty look at Darlene he left the kitchen.

Rusty stared at the women for a full minute, no one speaking. Finally he motioned for Barbara to get up. "Back to work, you all just got us behind. No food for you tonight if you don't hurry the fuck up."

*   *   *   *   *

Darlene didn't move a muscle, pretending to sleep. She figured Barbara and Jesse would both go after her much sooner than later and she'd be ready. Barbara had the easiest means since she was cramped in the same room as Darlene and another six girls. Darlene was rolled up with a thin bed sheet in one corner, facing the dark figures and listening to them snore, shuffle and moan in their sleep.

Her anger and frustration kept her awake and kept her going. She knew to relax would get her killed, and crying or accepting the hopelessness of her situation would destroy her, so she embraced the raw power and tried to use it.

As silly as she knew it was, she remembered the time when she'd first gotten the job in the makeup department in the mall. Her community college had stalled and she still hadn't figured out what she wanted to do in life. After a long talk with her daddy she decided to take a break for a semester - as much as he was against it - and get a real job. Her daddy paid all the bills, but she knew it was way passed her time to add something positive to the household.

She remembered kissing him on his cheek as he sat there wringing his hands and staring at the microwave. She told him about being in her mid-twenties and never having worked a real job save the fast food ones when she was a teen, her job at the library in college and her brief two-week work as a hostess in that seedy restaurant outside of Dexter.

Her first real job brought her the harsh realities of life: not everyone liked you or was straight up real with you or just had so much jealousy that they were hard to be around.

Winnie was the assistant manager of the department, a ten-year veteran who'd been stuck behind the department head for four years. She had a bad attitude for the new people coming in and no patience to train, yet every complaint up the chain fell on deaf ears.

After four months of Winnie undermining associates, doing underhanded things with their commission sales and changing schedules at a whim, Darlene had had enough.

She didn't care if she lost her job at that moment because she was so stressed. She met Winnie in the parking lot after a closing night shift and without preamble, crowded the woman against her car. "What the fuck is your problem with me?" Darlene said, amazing herself at her rage. Her original point was going to be to try and talk to the woman one more time before quitting, but as the anger built all shift and Winnie acted like a typical bitch, she couldn't control it.

Darlene didn't remember the rest of the confrontation that night, but she did smile at the outcome: Winnie went out of her way to be nice to her, giving her prime shifts, siding with her when the new girl Julie was trying to steal sales, and chit-chatting with her whenever possible.

Movement in the darkness brought her back to the present and she tensed up her body. A shadow pulled itself from the far corner, where Barbara had set up to sleep.

Showtime
, she thought and slowly pulled the butter knife from under her pillow. When the figure got within three feet of her Darlene suddenly sprang, driving a shoulder into her opponent's midsection and wrapping them up as they plunged to the floor.

Darlene had gone over this a dozen times in her head and she was ready: she drove the butter knife into her throat, knowing if she hesitated or showed mercy she'd be dead.

Chaos erupted around them as flashlights and candles lit the scene while the women in the room moved to escape the battle but get into a good position to see it.

By then it was over. Darlene, on all fours, had the knife plunged into the neck of an unmoving woman. Not Barbara.

Confused and shaking, Darlene looked around and finally caught the smile of Barbara, standing at the door. Before Darlene could do anything Barbara left.

"Who is that?" Darlene finally asked as she stood, her legs threatening to give out. Her stomach roiled and she puked against the wall. Her chest and arms were covered in blood and she could only stare, spittle dripping from her lips, as the woman went into convulsions on the floor.

Darlene was going down, her vision dimming, but as she began toppling she felt rough, strong hands grabbing her and dragging her past the scene of carnage. Her feet slid through the pool of blood as some women screamed and others sobbed.

In the hallway she closed her eyes and puked again as someone lifted and fireman carried her. She was dumped onto a mattress. When she opened her eyes Rusty and Doug were standing over her. She threw up again, too weak to even roll, just coughing it out of her mouth so she didn't choke.

Rusty, a look of torment in his eyes, came to her and gently lifted her head. She watched as Doug folded his arms behind them and smiled wickedly.

Lucky for her Rusty's first punch to the jaw knocked her out.

*   *   *   *   *

Cold
. Darlene felt her body shuddering and wet. Her thoughts were jumbled, fuzzy around the edges. When she opened her eyes she wasn't surprised to see the entire bar staring at her, led by Doug, Rusty and Barbara. She was outside, it was nighttime, and she could hear the undead clanging against chain-link fences nearby.

They let her stand. "Seriously? Naked again?" She threw up her hands in disgust and ignored the laughing and catcalls. Turning to Doug she looked at him with what she hoped was utter defiance. "Do your worst, dickhead. Just remember one thing: I'll have the last laugh when I'm shooting you in the fucking head."

Doug grinned. "I seriously doubt that, sweet ass. In fact, after everyone else here has gotten their turn in with your body, it will be my turn. The last turn."

"I'm first, since I owe that bitch," Jesse said and strode forward. When she tried to run away hands grabbed her from behind and forced her to the ground on her back.

She stopped struggling and put her legs up. "Hurry up, Minute Man. There's a line behind you," she said loudly.

As everyone began to laugh she could see that she'd gotten to Jesse, which is what she wanted. She knew this was the end of the road for her, and she'd be raped and killed but she didn't want to go out crying and feeling powerless. Even though her stomach threatened to spill and she was shuddering, she tried to push it down defiantly.

When he pulled his jeans down she laughed. "Did you forget your dick inside the bar? I'll wait here while you go fetch it."

Jesse was on her suddenly, his pants down. He was fumbling to get inside her, glaring at her with venom. "I'm going to rip you open, you fucking bitch," he said quietly.

"Doubtful," she said but turned her head. She noticed the undead trying to get through the chain-link fence, the padlock keeping them out.

Jesse was still struggling as she turned the other way, seeing the same thing the other way down the road: undead behind the fence.

"You done already?" Darlene said and smiled at him when everyone began to laugh and cat-call.

Jesse raised up on his elbows, then to his knees, bringing his hand up to slap her. Instead, Darlene kicked up with her knee and connected with his groin. As he fell to the side she reached up, using him as a shield, and reached around his back.

She pulled her Desert Eagle just as she heard the scrambling around her. Instead of attempting to use Jesse as a hostage - she knew they could care less about him - she pointed and fired at the lock on the gate, using every ounce of training her daddy had ever given her with her weapon.

Before the lock was even on the ground she'd turned and shot the other side.

Jesse bucked on top of her as someone put two bullets in his back.

Darlene began firing at anything around her, sure she'd be shot at any moment. Instead, they scattered around her as the zombies breached the gates.

A man tripped over Jesse and Jess slid off of her. She crouched, still firing, until her gun was empty. A quick search of his jeans pockets and she found loose bullets and a full box.

She stood and looked for Doug, Rusty and Barbara, hoping to see them so she could kill every last one of them. Instead, it was such chaos that she couldn't tell living from dead.

Swearing to someday find them, she pushed her way through the crowd, loading and firing as she moved, and clearing a path.

Darlene's anger got her safely down the street. She was naked and bruised but she was alive. And she had her Desert Eagle back.

Chapter Seven

Clothes Shopping

Darlene Bobich didn't know which part was worse right now: being naked on the cold streets of Buffalo, New York or the fact there was a zombie apocalypse happening all around her.

She decided that in the 'right here, right now' the freezing naked thing took precedence over the undead thing, so she tried doors and windows as she made her way down a suburban neighborhood that had been relatively unscathed. Here and there a home had been torched and most of the cars on the street were demolished, but the lawns were overgrown but not trampled like she'd seen everywhere else.

Houses, dark, stared back at her. To her right a pickup truck, doors open, was halfway backed out of the driveway. Across the street the front door had been ripped off its hinges and propped against the bushes.

Darlene realized the block reminded her of home, even though she was hundreds of miles away. The pretty, well-kept middle-class block, rows of likable houses. She imagined the kids coming inside just before dark, mom fixing dinner while dad pulled up in his Camry and parked next to mom's mini-van.

Her daydreaming was shattered by the crash of glass somewhere close by. She ran across the street and up the driveway since the house looked still intact.

The front door was locked and she heard footsteps, slow and methodical, from the street. Without streetlights and with only the thin moon above everything was in silhouette, but she didn't need to see to know there were undead in the area.