Zombie Rules (24 page)

             
“It’s getting close to four now. How are you doing?” He asked.

             
“I’m fine.” She whispered. “Nothing here but the trees so far.” He acknowledged and the radio became quiet. Her thoughts soon wandered. She liked Zach.

             
No, it was much more. She was in love with Zach. The first time she met him, he seemed a bit…arrogant. Arrogant and bossy. She was attracted to him, but at the same time she was put off by his attitude. He acted like his opinion was the wisest in the group. It was a turn-off. And Rick, who was old enough to be his grandfather, always seemed to defer to him. But Rick knew how smart Zach was. Julie realized it now. She also knew Rick must have died or something. She did not say anything, but one day she would ask what happened. Zach would tell her the truth, but she knew it was not the right time.

             
She checked her watch again. It was right at four. They would be coming soon. If Jason and Macie betrayed Zach, she was going to kill them. She was especially going to Jason. She didn’t like him from the first moment the two of them met. Macie was not much better. When they first met, she had barely said hello. She had whispered to Jason, but it was loud enough for Julie to hear. Macie did not want them there. If it were not for the fact Tay was practically eye-fucking her mom from the get go, she was sure they would have been turned away, maybe even shot. After their first encounter, Macie was always aloof. The only nice gesture she ever extended to her was to hand her some napkins when she was on the toilet with diarrhea and had run out of toilet paper.

             
Julie had watched the video. Her mother had cackled in laughter. Julie did not, and in fact she immediately became angry. Her feelings confused her. Why was she angry over somebody she did not like getting beaten? It was then she realized maybe she was attracted to Zach more than she wanted to admit. The video made little Tommy cry. He liked Zach as well. God how she missed her pesky little brother!

             
Zach did not look the same in the video. In the video he looked like a helpless little boy. Now, he was bigger, more muscular. His expression was harder, no longer a skinny little boy but a grown man. Watching him beat the big zombie down the night before was both frightening and exhilarating. His muscles literally rippled in the moonlight, and even the frigid air did not cause much shrinkage of certain appendages. She smiled at the visual image. It had greatly aroused her then, and even now she felt a stirring. She involuntarily gasped in wonderment of the feelings she had for him.

             
She had kept waiting for him to make a pass at her. When he didn’t, well, she did. Zach was not her first. Hell he wasn’t her second. Her first happened after school one day on the family sofa. She thought she was in love then. What did she know about love? The relationship lasted less than a month. Her second lover, the memory of him brought a grimace. He was nothing more than a big dumb country boy. Their relationship mostly consisted of sitting around, smoking weed, having sex, and playing video games. She actually convinced herself for a while she loved him, but one day she watched as he misspelled his own mother’s name. In an instant it went from love to disgust, and then later to pity. Zach was different. She was glad he took her back.

             
Her reverie was interrupted by an approaching car. They still had the broken windshield, and it looked like someone had made a half-assed attempt to hold it together with several strips of silver duct tape. “Black Stratus approaching.” She whispered into the radio. There was a click of acknowledgement. “Two figures inside.” Another click. The car stopped. It took her a moment to adjust the binoculars, but she soon recognized the occupants. “Correction, it looks like there’re three people. It’s Jason, Tay, and Darius.” She nervously reported. Zach’s response was a slow click of the microphone. He heard and he knew that he had been betrayed. If she were still a petulant brat, she would have used the opportunity to say she told him so. Instead, she stayed dead still and watched with the binoculars. She felt her heart racing and took a deep, slow breath. “Okay, Tay and Darius are getting out of the car. They have AR-15s. They’re going into the woods and it looks like they’re going to make their way toward you. I need to be quiet now.” There was a quick click of acknowledgement. She listened as they noisily made their way through the woods. City boys. She would have laughed at them under any other circumstances.

             
Jason remained in the car. She wondered what he was doing, but did not want to run the risk of exposing herself. After ten minutes she heard him put the car in gear and drive down the side road toward the farm. Julie fervently hoped Zach knew what he was doing. She slowly moved her head down and checked her weapon, which she had done at least a dozen times already. She also realized she needed to pee.

*****

              I had a plan. It went something like this. I had made a dummy. That’s right, a dummy. A scarecrow, whatever the hell you want to call it. I got some of Rick’s old clothes, he wouldn’t mind, and filled them with straw. I complimented the get up with boots, gloves, jacket, and a cowboy hat. I had put the dummy in the cab of my little Ford Ranger truck, which I had parked on the bridge, and positioned it to appear as though Rick had fallen asleep waiting on them. I put the cooler on the hood of the truck which would partially obscure anyone’s view of the scarecrow. Hopefully, nobody would recognize it for what it really was, at least until they got close.

             
I armed Julie with an AR-15. I had a Winchester model 94. It was an excellent bolt-action, long range rifle. I made a slow jog over to Rick’s hill, which was five hundred yards south of the bridge along the creek line. I had several burlap bags that I had cut into long strips loosely tied around me to help break up my outline. Five hundred yards was well within range of a 30-06 bullet, especially when fired from a nice rifle. I was counting on the premise that these thugs had limited training and were only going to be armed with the .223 caliber assault weapons. The range on those weapons were limited, the little field manual that Rick made me memorize said they only had a maximum effective range of 460 meters. That converted to roughly 503 yards. I felt confident none of them could hit the side of a barn at that distance.

             
I positioned the rifle on a sandbag, got myself as comfortable as possible in a prone position and started thinking all of it over again for at least the hundredth time. Was I being overly paranoid? Should I have even allowed them to come back in the first place? I had decided to err on the side of caution, hence the scarecrow in the truck, and the two of us set up as if expecting a war. However, if Julie called me on the radio and says it’s just Jason and Macie, I was going to hustle back to the truck and meet them when they drove up.

             
Alas, it was not to be. Julie radioed and gave me the bad news. Surprisingly, it saddened me. I really wanted to help out Macie. Jason, like him or not, was part of the package. After all, I still loved her. I was no longer
in
love with her, but I knew I would always care about her. I actually wanted to believe I could trust her, even after everything she had said and done to me.

             
Deep down though, my gut feeling told me this was exactly what would happen. A minute or two passed, and then I heard at least one of them in the woods. Even from five hundred yards away. It sounded like he fell down or walked into something. They were so noisy and clumsy it was pathetic.

             
Was it Macie’s idea? No. I was convinced she had nothing to do with it. It was Jason. Jason and his buddies. Starvation will make a person do things they normally would not do I guess. Instead of working out an amicable relationship, they believed it would be far easier to kill everyone and take what they wanted. It was not going to happen if I had anything to say about it.

             
I turned the volume on the walkie-talkie down. Rick had purchased headsets for the radios, but had not gotten the correct models. We made do without them. But, if you were not careful, you would have your volume loud enough for everyone within near proximity to hear. I did not want any possible noise giving away my position, so I turned the volume down to its lowest level. I wiggled the rifle a bit to get snugged down in the sandbag and put my eye to the rifle’s scope. Slowly and carefully I scanned out the wood line and undergrowth. It took me a moment, but I was easily able to pick out the one who I believed was Tay. He was just barely in the wood line. Incredibly, he was wearing a bright red bandana around his head. He stood out like a turd in a punch bowl. He was also leaning up against a tree breathing heavily. He was probably certain he was hidden from view of anyone in the truck. Soon Darius joined him. I recognized him immediately. They did not even spread out. They were standing there, side by side, like buddies sneaking a peek on big breasted women skinny dipping in the creek. Idiots. I was tempted to put a round in the tree they were standing beside and scare the shit out of them, but I held off. I was curious. I wanted to see what they had planned.

             
The black Stratus appeared around the curve in the road and moved slowly. When it got to the within ten feet of the bridge, the driver parked and got out slowly. It was Jason. He looked around nervously. He should be nervous. His actions were going to dictate what happened to him in the next few minutes. My anger had grown into a cold block of ice.

             
I was once again thankful for inheriting Rick’s paranoia, which made me plan for this contingency. I refused to let anyone take anything from me anymore. I focused the crosshairs on Jason. He walked closer to the truck and I could see his mouth move, as if he was calling out to me, or Rick. He walked a couple of steps closer when he was suddenly dumbstruck with realization. His mouth fell open and he started to yell. Whether he was yelling at them to open fire or yelling a warning, I did not know.

             
Whatever he was shouting was drowned out by sudden gunfire. Darius and Tay shot the living shit out of my truck, my scarecrow, and my cooler. They had thirty round magazines, but it did not take long for them to fire all of their ammunition. Jason, the only one with half a brain, dropped to the ground as soon as they started shooting, lest he became a casualty of friendly fire.

             
Darius and Tay must have believed they had killed me, or Rick, or whoever. I don’t think they were very concerned if they hit Jason or not. They emerged out of the wood line, pointing their weapons toward their targets, entirely unaware those thirty rounds mags were now empty. I took aim. I had a sudden recall of the video. Darius was the one who had kicked a field goal with my testicles. Well, now, how does the old saying go? Paybacks are a bitch. Something like that.

             
I had my range dialed in. The wind was negligible. The sun was just over my left shoulder. I caressed the trigger with my finger and gently squeezed. The bullet exited the barrel of the rifle, soared magnificently for the length of five football fields, and went through his groin. I’d guess the point of entry was about half a centimeter above where his cock was previously attached. It exited right about the top of his butt crack. I watched the impact. It looked excruciatingly painful. Darius fell to the ground and howled in agony. Tay stood there astonished. He then tried to shoot at the scarecrow, realized his weapon was empty, and fought to put in a fresh magazine. I waited patiently. Tay finally managed to seat a fresh magazine and get the bolt shoved forward.               I was tired of lying prone, so I sat up and waved. Tay saw me then. His razor sharp intellect deduced that I was not in the truck after all, but sitting on top of a hill some distance away. He started firing. Just as I thought, he had no idea what he was doing. His rounds were falling short by over a hundred yards. I certainly gave him a chance, a chance to surrender. I took careful aim and shot him through the heart. I gazed through the scope for a couple of seconds.

             
Satisfied with my accuracy, I stood up and walked toward the surviving betrayer.

              In full tactical gear, I believe I could have run the five hundred yards in just under two minutes. However, I did not see any need to hurry at this point. Far better to walk and conserve energy.

             
Jason had slowly lifted his head when the two idiots had stopped firing. He watched in dumbfounded befuddlement as I shot his two friends. Tay was quite dead. Darius was lying on the ground in a fetal position, clutching what was left of his genitalia. Jason finally looked around and spotted me. He stood slowly as I approached. I could see the animosity in his eyes as I got close. I looked over at Darius a moment. He was whimpering pathetically. I felt no guilt or pity. I might have once, but those days were over. I retrieved my radio from my cargo pocket. “What’s your status?”

             
“Good to go.” She answered.

             
“Same here. Stand by.” Julie answered my transmission with a click of her talk button. Good girl. I propped my foot on the front bumper of the stratus and pointedly stared at Jason while pointing my rifle at his midsection.

             
“Zach, I didn’t have a choice! They’ve got Macie. They’re holding her hostage.” Darius groaned feebly. He was dying. Jason nervously looked over at him. “Zach, I’m begging you. Just tell me what to do, I’ll do it man.”

             
His face was oily with a mixture of sweat and grime. I motioned with the rifle. “Slowly take the gun out that you’re hiding and toss it.” He paused for a moment, and then reached into his back waist band, pulled out a black revolver and threw it to the ground.

             
I nodded, picked it up, and inspected it. It was a 22 caliber Ruger. Loaded, but very dirty. It looked familiar. I tossed it in the weeds. I then looked at him and sighed.

             
“Why didn’t the two of you get away from that group, huh? Isn’t that what I suggested? Leave and start a new life, just the two of you and your unborn child.”

             
Jason’s mouth dropped open and he held up his hands as if to say, I don’t know why the hell I didn’t listen to you but I see the wisdom in your logic now.

             
I sighed. “Ah Jason, what a history the two of us have in such a short time. You know, we’ve never really talked on a one-to-one level. Let’s do that. So, let’s see, where do we start. Let’s recap our history together. I had never done anything to you. I was just a lowly sophomore, head over heels in love with a pretty girl, and you were the hotshot senior athlete. You had a lot of teenage girls who were dying to drop their panties for you, but instead you steal my girl. And then you punch me out, although I guess I can understand your reaction a little bit. After all, I did take a swing at you. But you had size on me back then. You could have just grabbed me in a bear hug and wrestled me to the ground. Did you know, on that day I had just come from the hospital? My grandmother, the only family I had, just died? Did you know that?” Jason started to protest.

             
I held up my hand. “Hush, I’m talking. So, where was I? Oh yeah, I took a swing at you. You knocked me down and then you let your boys kick the shit out of me. Now granted, you pulled them off of me, but you let them put the boots to me for just a few seconds before you intervened. I watched the video. How could I not, it was sent to me the next day. I saw you stand there motionless with that damn smirk on your face for just a little bit longer than necessary before stopping them. So, who put the video on You Tube?”

             
“Trina.” He answered. “But I had nothing to do with it.”

             
I shook my head. “I may have believed you once, but I’m not so sure anymore. I’m thinking you pulled the usual Jason Argos pattern of behavior. You condemn the action, but only after the fact.” I shrugged. “Oh hell, it’s a moot point I guess. So, where was I? Oh yeah. I do ramble on sometimes, so I’ll skip everything else and fast forward to the present. You and Macie decide to come begging for food. What did I do Jason?” He stared at me in silence. “Answer me please.”

             
“You gave us food.” His response was emotionless.

             
I nodded somberly. “In spite of our past, I gave the two of you food so you could survive and have your kid. I wanted to help you two, you stupid shit.” I had lowered my voice a bit. “Go over there and look in the damn cooler.” He reluctantly did as I directed. “Look at all of those beautiful fresh steaks. I told you guys to bring stuff for trading. I’m betting you did not even bother, am I right?” He looked at the steaks. He was so hungry I thought for a second he’d grab one and start eating it raw. Even with all of the fresh bullet wounds. “I knew you’d show up empty handed, but I was going to give those steaks to you anyway. But, a little nagging voice kept telling me you’d bring your boys with you. Hell, if all of you came in peace, even Darius, I was still going to give those steaks to you.” I said quietly. “I just wanted you to know it. You betrayed me Jason.”

             
He held his hands out and he looked around as if he was looking for his ever present homeboys to come to his defense. He eventually spotted Darius, I guess he had forgotten all about him. “Man, why did you shoot my boy like that? Can’t you do something for him?”

             
I shrugged my shoulders. “Of course.” I set my rifle down against the front bumper of his car and walked over to Darius. He was bleeding profusely and had lost consciousness by now. I retrieved my lock-blade knife, bent down, and slit his throat. He gurgled once and then became still. He was going to die anyway. I just hastened the process by a few seconds. I avoided the spurting blood from the neck wound, wiped the knife blade on his jacket, stood up and turned.

             
Jason had my rifle. He had his finger on the trigger and the barrel pointed at me. “You should put the weapon down.” I said. He ignored my suggestion and brought the rifle up to his shoulder. “I would prefer you not do that.”

             
His mouth dropped open and he arched his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oh, you would prefer it? You would prefer it? Fuck you and your preferences! You had your chance. Instead, you just had to go running your punk mouth. Now shut the fuck up because now it’s my turn to talk. You are a fucking loser Zach Gunderson, you always have been. You think since the world went to hell now you’re something special ‘cause you got a supply of food and we don’t? Fuck you Zach! Fuck you!” I think he was trying to tell me something. “You ain’t nothing!”

             
I nodded my head and tried to act like I was duly chastened. “I’m sure your friends would agree with you. Well, if I hadn’t killed them, but if they were alive, they would certainly agree with you. Oh well, fuck them. More steaks for you, right?” He continued glaring at me. I think my facetious logic confused him. “Jason, I’m asking you to put the rifle down. I can help you get Macie.”

             
“I don’t want your fucking help Zach. I’m going to kill you and that old man, wherever he is, and then I’m going to get Macie, we’re going to move in your fucking house, we’re going to eat your fucking food, and I’m going to fuck her in your own fucking bed!”

             
“You sure do say fuck a lot.” I lamented. “A limited vocabulary is an overt indicator of stupidity, did you know that, or are you too stupid to comprehend how utterly stupid you really are?” In case you’re wondering, yes. I was goading him.

             
It worked. Spittle flew out of his mouth as he screamed. “Shut the fuck up!” He took aim and fired. No, not really. He took aim and pulled the trigger. The rifle was empty. I had unloaded it during the casual stroll from Rick’s hill to the bridge.

             
I shook my head and sighed. “You are one dumb fucker.” He tried to work the action of the rifle, but apparently was unfamiliar with it. So, out of frustration, he yelled and charged me with the rifle held high over his head. I’m sure he had seen this move in one of those old World War Two movies. I guess he thought he was going to bash my head in with the butt stock. I had my Glock, but did not bother using it. When he got close enough to touch me, I deftly side stepped him and thrust my knife with a backhand stab into the side of his neck. He grunted in sudden pain, reached for it, but I pulled it out before he could grab it. I had hit an artery. He was going to bleed out in a matter of seconds. He grabbed at his neck where the knife had entered. Blood spurted between his fingers. I changed my grip on the knife, took a lunging step, and stabbed him again. This one entered just below his sternum. It was merely for good measure. He dropped the rifle and fell to the ground. The stab in the neck was probably adequate, without an ambulance to come save him he would have bled out, but I wanted to make sure. This man was, and had been, an albatross around my neck.

             
I sat down beside Mr. Jason Argos and waited for the shakes to stop as I watched him exhale his last breath in a bloody gurgle. I squeezed my eyes shut for a long minute after his final death rattle. When I opened them again my breathing had slowed and the shakes had abated. I was surprised at how much rage I had for him, but I worked it out I think. Good riddance. I gave him every chance I could to make amends with him.

             
I looked around and surveyed all of the damage. In addition to the shot up truck, ruined cooler, bullet infested steaks, he had dropped Rick’s beautiful rifle. I picked it up and inspected it for damage. There was a small scratch on the stock, but more importantly, the scope was broken. Damn. I checked myself for any injuries and then retrieved some hand sanitizer out of the glove box.

             
While I was lost in thought, the Dodge Stratus started up and backed out quickly. Who the hell was in the car? The driver did a 180 degree fishtail, threw it in drive, and floored it before I could even react. The sunlight was glaring off of the windshield, preventing me from seeing who was driving. I retrieved my Glock and managed to shoot once before it rounded the curve. I retrieved my radio. “The car is coming out. Take care of it!” I got a click in reply. I guess it was time to see what kind of mettle she had. I started running toward Julie.

*****

              Julie gasped when she heard the gunshots. It was a frenzied staccato of fire from at least two rifles. She became worried until she heard the booming report of Zach’s hi-powered rifle. It had a quite distinctive sound. There was a minute of silence and then she heard more gunfire. It was followed by another report of Zach’s rifle.

             
She knew, well she hoped, that all was good. Zach was a really good shot. He confirmed it a moment later on the radio. She breathed a sigh of relief until she remembered that there were three of them and she only heard Zach shoot twice. She looked around for any threats, but the immediate area, or what Zach called her AO – area of operation, was deathly quiet. She sat in silence. It seemed like an eternity had passed since Zach had spoken to her. She was getting worried again. She thought she heard yelling and the faint sounds of a struggle, but could not be sure. A few more minutes passed, and then she heard tires squealing.

             
“The car is coming out, take care of it!” Zach shouted into the radio. Julie keyed the microphone once in acknowledgement. It must be Jason. He’s escaped. She checked her weapon once more, making sure this time she had the selector lever set to fire. She was ready. The car appeared. She had a brief moment of anxiety as she wondered where to aim first. The radiator, the tires, or through the window? She chose the latter. Julie fired three quick rounds where the driver should be sitting, fired three rounds into the front grill, and then shot continuously as the car drove by and approached the intersection.

             
The car continued through the intersection and crashed into the ditch on the far side of the roadway. Julie stared at it stupefied for a moment. Then she realized she had the rifle in a death grip and could not feel anything from the waist down. She wondered if she might have been shot. She pried one of her hands loose, and started feeling around her face and torso. Satisfying herself that there were no unnatural holes in her body, she climbed out of the sniper position and slowly started walking toward the wrecked car. She held the AR-15 stiffly in front of her, and got to the middle of the road before stopping suddenly. The car’s engine was revving at a high rate of speed, as if the driver had the accelerator mashed to the floor.

             
She felt the sudden need to reload the weapon. She took a hard look at the car and tried to spot any movement through the windows. Nothing. She fumbled with the release button and got the empty magazine to drop, fumbled with the tactical vest, finally got a firm grip of a loaded magazine, and was able to get it seated in the rifle in one try. Tugging on it to make sure it was seated properly, it suddenly dawned on her, standing in the middle of the road with no cover was a very stupid place to reload one’s weapon. She was glad Zach did not see the faux pas. She inched her way forward to the car, finally made it to the driver’s side, and peered in. It was Chad. His head was tilted forward, and it looked a bit like he was sleeping.

             
The driver’s window was either busted out or rolled down. She shouted to him over the noise of the engine. “Chad, turn the damn car off!” He ignored her. “I said turn the car off!” This time she nudged his shoulder with the barrel of the rifle to emphasize her demand. His head rolled. That was when she saw the right side of his head. Somehow, the .223 caliber bullet did not penetrate all the way through. Its shape was probably deformed when it passed through the passenger side window. The window must have slowed the velocity of the bullet enough so that once it entered the skull, it stayed there.