MZS- North East Page 23

  “That’s a good idea. My offer warrants a conversation—just don’t tire out your mouth, pretty one,” the scumbag arrogantly calls over to us.

  His words drip with evil and set my blood to boiling.

  “Remember that girl from Arkansas or something? She loved sucking dick,” Tucker adds, a totally irrelevant thought.

  “She was from Oklahoma,” Cupcake says, correcting Tucker on his pointless stroll down memory lane.

  “It doesn’t matter. This guy is a lunatic,” I say, trying to stop the conversation.

  “Just sayin’, if someone might enjoy it, why not go for the win-win?” Tucker says as he bends his head in the direction of McLean.

  “No one would enjoy being raped at gunpoint,” McLean hisses at Tucker. “If I do anything, it’s so I have a chance to kill this bastard.”.

  We now live in a world where killing a senator is something the good guys do. I have no doubt that we are the good guys, but I’m starting to worry that we’re the only ones.

  “Let’s just leave. We didn’t ask for this and we don’t have the first clue of how to launch a rescue mission for those women in there. Even if we tried, it would probably wind up getting all of us killed,” I plead.

  This is why I didn’t want to be in charge. Whatever we decide is going to feel awful. Leave and I will feel bad for the women in there; fight and we will likely lose someone I already know and truly care about.

  “Come on sweetie, you could probably use the protein,” the pig calls out and his wingmen snicker.

  For some reason that is the comment that sends me past the point of no return. I want to fucking kill this asshole. He can suck on the end of my hockey stick if he thinks it’s that easy.

  “Laney, you stay here by the Humvee with Tucker,” I say and stare at her, hoping she understands how serious I am.

  For some odd reason, I suddenly feel like I am in love with her. She’s not just a friend or a sister like acquaintance. McLean is the reason I want to be good—or better.

  The timing for my revelation is way off. I’m flooded with confusion and certainty. Why now, I don’t get it? There is no doubt in my mind I would sacrifice every other person in the Humvee to keep her safe. Was that true in Philly as well?

  There was a hint of a plan in my head but now it’s getting lost in a fog of romantic fantasy: walking hand-in-hand on the beach, a quiet candlelight dinner and a long drive through the countryside. None of these things feel possible if we turn into ruthless killers of the living.

  “What do you want us to do?” Cupcake asks, snapping me out of the fog.

  My plan comes back into focus and I feel the goose bumps rise on my flesh.

  “Assume the previous formation,” I say. “When I put his dick in my mouth and the bodyguards are distracted, take them out and then get your asses in the rig.”

  “What?” they all ask me in unison.

  “He didn’t say who he wanted to have suck him off,” I say, offering a determined look.

  “And how do we get to the women inside?” Tucker asks.

  “We need them to step up. If we take out the leader and his two bodyguards, hopefully they can get the guys on the roof. If they don’t help themselves, we’re outta here.” I’m trying to manage a tough compromise.

  “I’ll try and catch someone’s eye and signal them somehow,” McLean says and nods slowly.

  “Your time is up, honey. If you think that these guys aren’t going to take what they need anyway in few days, you’re probably too naïve to live. Good luck out there, I hope you make it to dinner without becoming dinner,” the senator says and laughs maniacally.

  I turn to see the senator spin around and start walking back to the building.

  “Wait!” I call out to him.

  He stops and faces me with a big shit-eating grin.

  “Excellent decision,” he says, while closing the gap between us.

  I separate myself from the Humvee and walk toward the pervert.

  In junior high school I saved up enough money to buy a nice stereo. I’ll never forget the weeks spent researching features and models. Three hundred dollars was a lot of money at the time and I wanted to be confident in my decision. Back then we didn’t call them data points, but that’s what I was gathering.

  I’m getting ready to take a human life and I have almost no data points. This could be just a creepy vibe with an awkward initiation. He may be sincere in saying that once we’re inside, everything will be okay.

  Regardless of the data or the possibility of goodness, my gut says we need to kill him. That’s probably the only survival skill that matters: trusting your gut when there is a life on the line.

  “When you finish, we all go inside, right?” I ask, checking to be sure.

  “Of course. Will you be doing the honors?” He raises a single eyebrow in the creepiest way possible.

  “You didn’t say who it had to be, just that it had to be done,” I answer coolly.

  “Well, it won’t be my first time; will it be yours?” the older man asks confidently.

  “Yes.” I’m not interested in a conversation.

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine,” the slimy bastard says. “Just relax your throat. I’m a little longer than most and I don’t want you puking on my shoes.” Senator Williams grins sadistically.

  Slowly I drop to my knees. My eyes stare down at his polished wingtips and the idea of getting them dirty makes me smile a little.

  My left hand reaches up and grabs his belt while my right pulls down on his zipper. The fly opens wide and I reach in with my fingers. I feel the soft cotton of his boxers and probe for the opening.

  Behind the folds of fabric, his dick is easy to find. It’s already semi-hard. I’m shaking a little bit and it’s difficult to pull his member out through the hole.

  “Easy, killer,” he says smugly. His velvet tongue cannot hide his anticipation.

  Kneeling has my mouth level with his naval. Slouching back so that my ass rests on my heels positions my mouth at just the right level. My mouth is suddenly very dry and I lick my lips to try and get some moisture to spread around.

  When my right hand is wrapped tightly around his cock, I lower my left to the ground and let it trail back along my leg. I straighten him out with my hand and move my mouth closer and closer to the tip of his penis.

  From the corner of my eye I can see one of the machine guns drop slightly. The bodyguards are no longer watching my friends: they are waiting to see me violated.

  The knife stuck in my wine box armor comes out cleanly. Using all the strength I have, I thrust my left hand upwards until the silver blade is buried in the area between the senator’s legs.

  His screams are drowned out by the sound of two gunshots, and the bodyguards crumble to the ground. A few beats later the machine gun on top of the Humvee rumbles to life. Cupcake and Parker are no longer beside me, but I can’t get up off my knees.

  A bullet whizzes past my ear and the Humvee starts with a whine. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I remember what I was supposed to do next?

  On the ground in front of me, the senator is writhing in pain with my knife buried to its hilt between his legs. Another bullet hits the pavement in front of me and a bit of gravel flies up and scratches my cheek.

  “Patrick, come on!” McLean screams at me from behind the driver’s door of the Humvee.

  If we were trying to save these women, why are we running away?

  I can’t move.

  For the second day in a row I find myself in the middle of a gun battle. Yesterday I ran; today I am immobilized with fear. It is amazing how different my reaction is to similar situations. Even this contemplation is heavy for me, so what changed?

  The blood trickling down my face is the only thing that makes me move. Was I shot? No, a mental check of my body reveals no significant injury. I get to my feet and run, stooped over, to the rear door of the Humvee.

  When I climb inside, McLean is already seated behind the
wheel and the engine is running. I can hear the occasional pop and ting of bullets hitting the truck. Mostly what I hear are the explosions from the heavy machine gun above me… and Terri screaming.

  “That was a senator! You just fucking killed a senator of the United States! OH MY GOD what the hell were you thinking?!” The words stream from her mouth as a single string of syllables.

  I don’t know what I was thinking. It was a bad scene and we had to do something. We’re trying to save the people he has imprisoned in the building. I think that’s what we are trying to do, but Terri wasn’t there for the conversation.

  “He’s a monster and a rapist!” I scream at her, defending my actions with my assumptions.

  The explosions above me stop and there is a brief moment of silence. Suddenly, hell breaks loose.

  A steady hail of bullets rains down on our Humvee. Surprisingly nothing penetrates the windows or roof. I have to remind myself that this is a military vehicle prepared for war, not a civilian imitation designed for comfort.

  We are being shot at by far more than the three people I saw around the building.

  “FUCK!” comes down from the machine gun turret, followed by a steady stream of explosions. The tings and pops slow down but do not stop completely.

  “This is why I don’t go outside!” Terri is crying, rocking herself from side to side.

  “What are we supposed to do?” McLean asks loudly, but she is barely audible above the heavy machine gun fire.

  “Get us the fuck out of here! Go! Go! Go!” I holler back at her.

  “Terri, you need to tell me where to turn! Terri, I need you!” McLean screams at the top of her lungs.

  Terri is lost in her flask. This can’t be the original; I wonder how many she brought? The bottom is pointing to the sky and her eyes are pressed tight. Her mouth is wide open and I can see a steady stream of amber liquid flowing into her mouth.

  “Backward through the gate! We have to get out of this compound!” I scream, so loud it scratches my throat.

  Human-on-human violence and chaos in the middle of a zombie hell; maybe we don’t deserve to live.

  McLean

  Chapter 39

  It always happens this way. The thing I was waiting for happens right after I’ve given up on it.

  A woman is running from the building and she is holding up a small child, but we are already rolling in reverse.

  Amidst the gun fire and the screaming I can focus only on her face. Her lips are clear and the words she’s saying are easy to see.

  “Please take my baby!” The woman screams.

  Her chest explodes and the baby falls and tumbles along the pavement. Neither the woman nor the little ragdoll object make any movement.

  The truck comes to an abrupt stop and my head slams back against the seat. Apparently reversing at full speed without looking or trying to steer results in an accident. I’m sure the guys will make all kinds of woman driver jokes.

  “You have to put her out of your mind,” Patrick says, speaking into my ear. He’s so close I can feel his warm breath.

  I shove the gearshift into drive and pull forward. It’s hard to put her out of my mind when I can’t stop staring at her body.

  “Wrong way!” Todd screams from the turret.

  The brakes are applied and the gear is shifted back to reverse, and still I can’t look away from the body of the woman in the parking lot. She is my age but I can’t even imagine how she ended up with a baby in this building, with these people.

  While I stare, I can see her head lift off the pavement. I can’t see her eyes from this distance, but something tells me they are cloudy and white. Her hand moves next and she is clawing her way forward, toward the body of her baby.

  My brain has enough control to know that I don’t want to see what I expect is about to happen. Averting my eyes to the side mirror, I stomp on the gas pedal.

  The delay between my action and the car’s reaction worries me. Did I break it when I crashed into the security hut? When the power finally arrives at the rear wheels, we rocket backwards. I have to steer frantically to direct the large vehicle through the gap between the fence and the guardhouse that is mangled but still obstructing my path.

  The driver’s side caroms off the tiny brick building and I notice that Todd is no longer firing the machine gun. He’s probably holding on for dear life.

  There is a line of cars behind me on my left. A quick glance to my right reveals open road, the way we came in. I guess some choices will be made for me.

  “Terri, I need you!” I scream at her again while throwing the car back in drive.

  “Terri! … Terri!” Patrick screams.

  I’m afraid that I might push the gas pedal through the floor. The Humvee does not accelerate quickly but soon it is traveling at a good clip and I realize I have to control the momentum.

  “Do I go back the way we came?” I ask no one and everyone at the same time.

  The guys in the back are helpless. With the exception of Todd they cannot even shoot at our enemies. I can’t even hear Parker, Tucker or Cupcake. Patrick and I are responsible for all of them.

  Pops and tings are less frequent but they are definitely still shooting at us.

  “No, that takes us back around the building. They set this up on purpose; they want us to try and go that way,” Patrick says, finally answering my question.

  “Then what?” I ask.

  Patrick leans forward between the two front seats. His mouth hangs wide open while he sucks in breath. I can’t see his eyes but I let myself believe they are searching for an answer, a way out.

  “There.” He points to a car on the side of the street.

  The car he’s identified is older and green. There is space in front of it and behind it but not enough for the Humvee to fit through. It looks kind of sporty to me but I can’t even imagine what he wants me to do with it.

  “Go through it?” I am confused.

  “No, you can’t smash through things. Pull up to the front. We’re going to make room to get through,” he explains.

  “What!?” He can’t seriously be planning to get out of the Humvee.

  Patrick is no longer between the seats. I don’t know how he’ll be able to move a car without using our truck.

  “Todd! We need a little covering fire. Parker, we’re going out your door. We need to get in the green car, put it in neutral and roll it backwards. Are you ready?” Patrick is speaking loudly enough to make sure the guys hear him.

  Before the Humvee is at a full stop, the machine gun roars back to life and the rear passenger door is thrown open.

  Out on the street Parker runs to the front of the green car and Patrick hurries to the driver’s window. The tire iron that Cupcake used to smash zombies now destroys the glass. With the window gone, Patrick is able to open the door and climb inside.

  Parker starts straining against the front fender before Patrick is back on the street. The two of them start the car rolling and the space between cars grows wider by the second.

  “Terri. We all need you. You can climb into a bottle later when we are somewhere safe, but right now you need to give me directions out of here,” I say. I try to speak calmly, but it’s not really close.

  “I can’t! I don’t do outside,” she screams in a shrill voice.

  “I don’t know what the fuck that means but you have to help us right now. We need your map and you need to tell me what’s on it.” My attempt at calm has turned into stern insistence.

  “I haven’t left my apartment in over three years! Open spaces, outside, terrifies me. I thought I could do it, but I can’t I just want to go back to my apartment!” She’s wailing like a baby.

  “GO!” Patrick screams before Parker can even get the door closed.

  There is no road in front of us, just the green grass of a small park and a few trees. I can’t floor it like I did back in the street. We roll forward slowly and I can hear the sound of metal scraping against metal so I stop.


  “Don’t stop!” Patrick says, exasperated with me.

  “I thought you said I couldn’t smash into the cars.” This is probably not a time for arguing but I don’t want to make a mistake with our most precious possession.

  “You can’t smash things with the front end. It could damage the radiator and then we would be toast. A little rubbin’ and scrapin’ is fine. Now GO!” he yells back.

  I accelerate again and we scrape between the cars. The opening between the trees is wider so I know that we will fit. I’m not a bad driver. I think that any normal person would struggle to drive perfectly with all this commotion.

  Once we’re through the trees, there is open space in front of me. I jam on the gas and feel the back end fishtail a little as the tires tear up the turf.

  “Where am I going?” I ask back to Patrick.

  “Head for the Capitol and go around it. Hopefully we can get to the other side and be far enough away from those guys that they won’t be able to keep shooting at us,” he answers, bringing his volume down slightly.

  “What if they follow us in their own Humvee?” I didn’t see any but it’s possible.

  “Then we don’t stop, I guess. You guys are all smarter than me; why do you keep asking me what to do?” Patrick suddenly sounds exhausted.

  He doesn’t give himself enough credit. His ideas, his actions, and his reactions are a big part of why we keep surviving. I wouldn’t be surprised if his intellect was the same as the rest of us, but his instincts are proving to be superior.

  “It’s a good plan. I didn’t see any vehicles in their compound so I doubt they have the means to follow us,” Parker chimes in.

  “Terri! Does this road lead us to the Capitol?” I ask her.

  Instantly I know it’s a stupid question. Out the front window I can see the dome of the Capitol building rising into the sky. I don’t need directions. I can navigate by sight.

  Patrick leans up and forcefully pries the tablet from Terri’s hands. She doesn’t fight him so much as just not letting go.

  “I came here on a school field trip and they made us walk from the Lincoln memorial to the Capitol building. We called it a death march, but I can remember that the National Mall was wide open,” Patrick comments.