Dying Days [Book 9] Read online

  “They don’t know we don’t have weapons. If I get in trouble, you bluff you’re going to shoot a bitch,” Profit said.

  “Fine. Go before I shoot you.”

  “With a stick?”

  Bernie smiled. “I’ll poke out your eye.”

  “Be right back. If I wave it’s safe. If I cry out and I’m bleeding, it might not be. Those are the signals we’re using.” Profit began strolling quickly to the house.

  From this distance Bernie could see the front door was open but it didn’t mean much. Most houses now had no windows and doors. Someone at some point had busted in and taken anything of value.

  She wondered if it was like this everywhere.

  If zombies were still all over the world, hordes of them searching for the living.

  Profit went into the house. The darkness swallowed him.

  Despite the heat and her clothing being mostly dry, she shivered.

  Where in the world was safe?

  Profit didn’t come out right away and Bernie wanted nothing more than to run across the overgrown lawn and see what was happening, but she knew, if he were in trouble, she was needed right here.

  She looked around, expecting a zombie or someone with a gun to be sneaking up on her.

  It was just her and nature.

  Profit was in the doorway as she turned back. He smiled and waved for her it was clear.

  Bernie ran across the lawn, watching where she stepped.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  “Abandoned. I would stay out of the back bedroom, though. It looks like a fifty foot gator took a shit in there. It’s not pleasant,” Profit said.

  “Then we get a break for a few minutes from the sun.” Bernie leaned against a wall of the house, which felt waterlogged and rubbery. This house had been beaten up by the elements. From the looks around the bottom of the room, it had been submerged not too long ago, too.

  “What now?” Profit asked. “This is the time we make a decision and stick with it.”

  “You don’t care either way?”

  Profit smiled. “I just want to be with you.”

  Bernie took a deep breath and looked out of the open doorway.

  “We head due north. As far away from this shit as possible,” she said.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  April was feeling light-headed. The zombie’s grip was squeezing her throat so tightly she couldn’t breathe and fighting back was futile.

  He was too strong.

  “If I let you breathe for a few seconds, will you tell me your real name?”

  April tried to nod her head but he wasn’t letting her move an inch.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  The bastard was messing with her. April struggled to stay conscious and nod her head. Would he even release her, even for a few seconds, if she could get her head to move?

  He let her go and she collapsed to the ground, trying to catch her breath. Her hands went to her raw neck and she could feel the groove marks where his nails had sliced into her skin. April knew she was bleeding badly, too.

  “I promised to let you go if you promised to tell me your name,” the zombie said. He pushed her over with his foot. “My name is Justin.”

  “April,” she croaked. She was squinting because the sun was directly behind him but when he moved his head she was blinded.

  “April, it’s great to meet you.” He offered a hand.

  She stared at it.

  “I’m trying to make amends, April. I feel horrible. My mother would be so disappointed in me if she saw I had choked you out. She always told me to not hit a girl.” He shook his hand.

  April knew she didn’t really have a choice. She took his hand and was surprised he actually helped her to her feet without a problem.

  “We’re going to go inside the house. It’s too hot under the sun, right? Only recently did I realize I could go out in the sunshine. Ever work night shift?”

  She nodded slowly, wondering what he was getting at and why he was suddenly so friendly and chatty.

  “My dad worked in a factory when I was a kid. They put white powder into baggies but it wasn’t drugs. It was legal but I can’t remember the specifics. Up in Farmingdale. You know where that is?”

  April shook her head.

  “New Jersey. I grew up there. Hated it. Smelled like cow shit. Anyway, he worked the nine at night until five in the morning shift. No break. Just eight straight hours of work. So most of the time he would get home and it was still dark. He’d go right to his room and take a quick shower and then sleep all day. He’d be up around seven that night if he was exhausted, and he usually was. It was dark out. Now do see what I’m saying?”

  Her throat hurt and she kept rubbing her neck, pressing on it so the blood would stop flowing. “He never saw daylight?”

  The zombie snapped his fingers. “Exactly. He would joke he felt like a vampire.”

  April wanted to cry. He was messing with her and if she tried to run he’d bring her down easily and hurt her.

  And he was still naked and standing in front of her.

  “When I came to as a zombie but then started to change, I had it in my head the sun would burn me. Isn’t that odd? There was a better chance of garlic or wooden crossed stopping me.” Justin tapped on the side of his head with a finger. “A little voice inside my head said I was better than that. I put my pinkie toe into direct sunlight.”

  He stepped back and lifted his foot, demonstrating. April made sure she didn’t look at his package. He wiggled his foot for emphasis and laughed.

  April tried to form something to say in her mind but all she could think about was him ripping her apart.

  “Come inside. I want to show you something,” he said.

  “I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you.”

  He laughed, throwing back his head. “I am going to enjoy having you around for awhile, April.”

  She took a step back and his smile dropped. “Don’t make me beg. I hate having to ask the pretty girls more than once.”

  April put on a smile.

  “That’s better, hun.” Justin clapped his hands. “I can’t wait for you to meet the others.”

  April heard a shot and automatically dropped to the ground.

  Justin put a foot on April’s back before she could move.

  “Put down the gun or I kill her, little girl,” Justin said.

  April looked up to see Carlie, holding the rifle in her hands.

  “I take it you two know each other?”

  “You have your dirty foot on my sister’s back. You also might want to find some pants.” Carlie smiled. “Sis, did you find lipstick for me?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I have a few tubes of it. You women call them tubes, right? I’m not sure of the terminology. I just know I have some if you’d like it.” Justin pushed down with his foot and April groaned.

  “Take your foot off of her, you small peckered freak.” Carlie lowered her weapon slightly. “Last chance.”

  Justin took his foot off of April and charged at Carlie faster than April had seen anyone move.

  She heard the shot but Justin crashed into Carlie and they went down on the overgrown lawn across the street in a tangle.

  April jumped up and ran to save her sister.

  “Get him off of me,” Carlie was shouting.

  April grabbed Justin by the neck and pulled him away, half of his face gone.

  “This is gross,” Carlie said, getting up and trying to get the gore off of her dress with her hands. “I’ll never be able to wash this out. Eww, is that part of his skull?”

  April helped her up. “That was the stupidest thing anyone could’ve done. He nearly killed you. That rifle is bigger than you. I told you I’d be back before dark. You should’ve stayed and watched over our parents.”

  Carlie picked a piece of brain off her dress and flicked it at April. “You’re welcome.”

  April looked down at the zombie. She spit on him.r />
  “Your neck is messed up. It isn’t bleeding, though. You need to be cleaned up, too. Any luck so far?” Carlie asked.

  “In the house. There are boxes. God only knows what else.” April started walking back across the street. She retrieved her weapon from where it had dropped.

  Carlie went to the boxes and smiled. “Is this legit?”

  “I hope so.” April opened the top box and smiled. “Cans of soup. Holy shit.”

  “We hit the jackpot. We need to hide this and come back for it. Let’s carry the boxes into one of the bedrooms and check for stuff for dad,” Carlie said.

  April started opening boxes and digging through them, hoping to find pain meds or clean bandages. She wasn’t a nurse but she knew what they could use.

  The first box was more cans of food and dead electronic gadgets like phones, handheld gaming systems and tablets. Carlie picked up a box and went into the next room to find a better spot for them. They couldn’t simply walk away from all of this stuff and hope someone else didn’t wander by and grab it.

  “April… holy shit… April…”

  April ran into the other room, gun drawn, and stopped short.

  The bedroom was filthy, with mattresses strewn across the floor.

  Sixteen men and women were chained to a central post in the middle of the room. They looked like they hadn’t eaten in days.

  “The bastard was keeping them for his own amusement,” Carlie said.

  One of the men coughed and shook his head. “He wanted us for his slaves. To find younger and stronger people for his kingdom. He wouldn’t shut up about his slave army.”

  “We need to release them,” April said.

  “I’ll do it. You keep looking for a first aid kit. We’re wasting too much time.” Carlie looked at her sister and started to cry.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  “We’ll kill the rest of you unless you split. Last chance,” Mitch yelled.

  All the enemy had done was waste a lot of rounds and ring the dinner bell for the zombies.

  Tosha heard two shots from near the bridge but they weren’t aimed at her and Mitch. “The zombies are attacking them.”

  “It might be enough of a distraction for us to escape. Where to?” Mitch shot three more times. “I’d hate to blow through all of our ammo already. We might need to head back to the stash of weapons.”

  Tosha could see quite a few zombies near the bridge. The way they’d come.

  “I think we’d waste all of our remaining ammo to fight through, especially with them finally pulling themselves from the river after all this shooting.” Tosha had one of the gunmen in her rifle sight but a zombie pulled him to the ground. “We need a plan.”

  “The zombies are spilling in from side streets in front, too.” Mitch shot once. “You hear that? A car engine. They’re leaving.”

  “Some of them are leaving.”

  “Do we shoot out the tires and let them die or let them go?” Mitch asked.

  Tosha turned to see the pickup truck pulling away with men piled into the truck bed. “Let them go. It will be like we killed a dozen of them. Give us a chance to escape and the zombies will follow the noise as long as you stop shooting your fucking gun.”

  “You are getting soft.” Mitch stood and began moving.

  “Say I’m soft again and I’ll shoot you in the back.” Tosha pointed her rifle at the sky because her instinct told her to shoot the zombies. They needed to be quiet. Move around the horde and the men and get to safety during the confusion.

  “Let’s head to the ocean. It’s two blocks but everyone is scattering,” Mitch said.

  “What route?”

  “Right up the middle of the road. Shoot if anyone breathing looks at you. Ready?”

  Tosha nodded.

  “I’m on the right. It’s my strong side.” Mitch was running and Tosha marveled at how quiet he moved, even with boots on.

  Tosha kept her head on a swivel but all she saw were zombies and they were far enough away she didn’t need to use up her limited ammo.

  The second pickup truck was still parked on the side of the road. Mitch approached cautiously but when he aimed inside he shook his head.

  “Maybe we take the truck,” Tosha said.

  “It will slow us down. The road back to The Promised Land is choked with rubble and bodies. Going on foot is the easiest way right now.” Mitch was on the move and Tosha ran to catch up.

  She was waiting for a gunshot or a zombie to jump out but they made it to the intersection with A1A and the beach was just ahead.

  Mitch scanned north and south on A1A.

  Tosha just wanted to get to the beach and see the ocean. She needed a distraction from all this misery and death.

  She saw zombies on the sand but they were scattered and wouldn’t be trouble.

  Mitch started moving again, getting onto the beach and pulling his knife. He ran to the nearest zombie, which had its back to him, and stabbed the monster in the back of the head.

  “That feels like cheating. You’re supposed to let him know you’re coming,” Tosha said.

  “That was a him?”

  “Maybe.” Tosha pulled her knife and she and Mitch started moving south on the beach, killing zombies as they walked. No sense in leaving them in their wake.

  It was a good thing they did, because Tosha groaned when she saw so many zombies in the distance. It might be as many as a hundred, all spread across a line from the ruined buildings to the water’s edge.

  “We can try to skirt around them. Get into one of the buildings and wait for them to pass,” Mitch said.

  “That would take hours if they were actually all going in the same direction.” As Tosha watched, using her rifle scope, she saw more and more zombies coming from the ocean and the ruins. Conversely, many of the zombies were disappearing into the buildings. “The streets will be filthy with zombies. No way we get back into The Promised Land. We need to find somewhere safe to hide.”

  Mitch looked up at the hotel closest to them. “I’m going up. See if I can find us a path.”

  Tosha shook her head. “Wasting time. The gunshots and fighting have stopped. There’s nothing left, as far as I can see, but zombies. A shit-ton of them, too. I think it’s fair to say The Promised Land has fallen. I think we cut our losses and head north. Maybe we find a bigger boat and hit the water. Sail north since all the zombies came south.”

  Mitch stared at the hotel before nodding. “I hate giving up but I think you’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right. Did you just realize that? No wonder I never slept with you again.”

  Mitch shook his head. “There you go, bringing up sex with me again. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed it.”

  “I might have to shoot you. I’d stop talking.” Tosha started walking down the beach.

  She did find Mitch attractive but knew he was never going to be a one night stand. Another one, actually. Tosha never understood the proper terminology if you slept with a dude more than once as a random encounter.

  It makes you a slut according to my sister, Tosha thought. So be it.

  Mitch would want something real. Something Tosha didn’t think she could give to anyone. In her past she’d done whatever she wanted. Men. Women. Whatever felt good right then. Long-term wasn’t something she had worried about in her life.

  Tosha glanced at Mitch, who was dutifully covering her as they walked.

  Forever the gentleman. He’d make a lucky girl happy if he lived long enough.

  Tosha shook her head and went back to worrying about the present.

  Tosha and Mitch walked close to a mile before they saw the body on the sand. Fresh blood. No rotting on the man and his clothes, while dirty, weren’t falling off of him.

  “He’s been murdered,” Tosha said and went to one knee, scanning the houses overlooking the beach for signs of a shooter.

  “Killed at close range. I think I see people down the beach but they might just be zomb
ies. What now?” Mitch asked.

  Tosha stood and put her rifle over her shoulder. She waved her arm.

  Mitch looked confused.

  “You remember the Hands? They ran the clothing store? I see the mom. She’s pointing a rifle at us.” Tosha put up her hands and started walking towards the house.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  On the third try, Profit found a car that would start. It was an old green Jeep. The engine was ticking badly but he was just happy, after all this time, it still had some life in it.

  “Half a tank of gas. That will get us pretty far,” he said.

  “If the roads are still manageable.”

  “Be positive. We’re going to get away without a problem. Our luck is changing. God will protect us.” Profit put the Jeep in drive as soon as Bernie closed the door.

  “You believe in God?”

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  Bernie shook her head. “Not after all this shit.”

  “Ahh. You think He abandoned us.” Profit drove onto a dirt road. The river was still in sight. “Or did you ever think God existed?”

  “I believed as a kid. At various bad times in my life. I can’t say it ever helped me.” Bernie looked out the dirty window.

  Profit sighed. He guessed they had time to chat while he drove. As long as nothing jumped out and messed with them. “You do know that God carries us in times of trouble, right?”

  Bernie laughed. “My grandma had that poem or saying or whatever it was framed in her dining room. As a kid I read it and always wondered why he’d carry us when he was God. Why didn’t he just stop it from being hard for us?”

  “That’s not how you live and learn. If everything was always so damn easy, you wouldn’t appreciate it.” Profit turned onto a paved road and slapped the steering wheel. “Good luck is headed our way. I can feel it.”

  “This is usually the part where a meteor falls from the sky and wipes us out.” Bernie leaned forward and looked up at the sky. “I think I see it.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  “I’m hysterical. Maybe you don’t have a sense of humor. You ever think of that?”