APOCALYCIOUS: Satire of the Dead (54 page)

             
Driving to Mexico would have normally taken her two or three days, but with the wrecked and abandoned cars that jammed the main highways; that wasn’t within the realm of possibility. She was hoping for a week if she was lucky. So far two days had taken Juanita as far as the middle of Kentucky.

Juanita occasionally saw signs of survivors, but she did not stop in her curiosity. Curiosity had killed the cat, but at least its carcass had been a good caveat for those who followed after.

Juanita thought of Hito and Shere and wondered if maybe she should have killed them before she left. She wasn’t sure if they deserved it or not, but she had decided to let them live out of respect for Annie. Annie had died to save them and Juanita hadn’t thought it right to kill those who her friend had made the ultimate sacrifice for. Still she had battled herself to come to that conclusion. Who would know? She could have shot them in their sleep and no one would have been the wiser. She clutched the cross pendant that hung from her neck and nestled between her breasts; God would know, and it would be His judgment, not hers that would determine their fates.

State route 626 Northwest of Bowling Green was the road that she traveled and it had been relatively clear as long as she drove mainly on the berm. The loose shale gravel occasionally made the car slide, but even though she sat on a stack of cushions and had blocks of wood tied to the bottom of her feet she thought that she was doing pretty well. The road curved in long graceful arcs that must have been a cyclists’ paradise once upon a time. It carved its path between two sides of open pastures where horses still grazed. Evidently the dead didn’t have a taste for horseflesh. The sun glinted through the windshield and for a moment she felt somewhat at ease and in her mind she envisioned that she was just out taking a Sunday drive. In this scenario, as with all of hers, was included the fact that she was not a dwarf. In these fantasies her arms and legs were long and lean and, most of all, her fingers and toes didn’t look like elongated wads of chewed up bubble gum.

Just as Juanita was beginning to completely submerge her mind in the fantasy, the Bentley’s dash lights flashed once and the engine died. She didn’t hit the brakes, she figured that every inch the car coasted was one less step her short legs had to travel, and walking great distances sent streamers of pain through her hips. Juanita did fine on short jaunts and was even physically capable of performing incredible feats of acrobatics as long as she didn’t overdo it. Juanita was thankful that there weren’t any stairs; they were the worst, a few was manageable, but anything more than a short flight virtually crippled her. The car finally eased to a stop and she slammed the gear selector into park.

Before she exited the vehicle she slid the blocks from her feet and dragged her pack and carbine closer to her from the passenger side. Shelter was her first priority. Where there was shelter there was probably a vehicle. Shelter was always the first priority whether it was mobile or not.

She exited the vehicle and left the door open. She threw the pack over her shoulders and slipped her arms through the straps, cinching them tight.  She pulled the bolt back on the carbine, chambering a round, and held it in both hands crossing the front of her. There was a blind corner ahead and as luck would have it a small wooded area kept her from seeing the other side. Juanita walked slowly, ever vigilant for the songs of the dead, she knew that tune and wasn’t a big fan.

            As Juanita rounded the curve a form came into view. It was a man hunkered down and he seemed to be waiting for someone or something. For what, she wasn’t sure, but she guessed that it was her. He had probably been a local that knew the roads and had figured her route and cut her off. Juanita raised the rifle defensively, but continued forward. There was no way she could outrun him but she didn’t want to let him think that she was scared of him either; that showed weakness and she wasn’t weak, regardless of her diminutive size. As she neared him Juanita saw that he was holding a lever action rifle like John Wayne used to carry. He held it to his side where he squatted like a staff to balance himself. He was wearing a dingy wife-beater tank top, a pair of faded blue jeans and appeared to have only one hand. The other arm ended in a metallic hook, but it was unlike any hook she had ever seen before. This hook curled and uncurled around the barrel of the rifle like a prehensile tail. Juanita noted that the man was in good shape with a slender, athletic build but saw that his exposed flesh was covered in clots and masses of blue, black, green and red.

Juanita tensed when she saw those masses of swirling colors and held the barrel pointed in his direction thinking that the colors were signs of infection.

“Whoa…easy little lady,” he said holding a hand up in front of him, his ever present Ranger para-cord bracelet looping around his wrist as he stood to his feet. Juanita took a few more aggressive steps forward and she saw that the colors were actually just tattoos. The ink was a mangled mess that she thought no one deserved and she hoped he had shot whoever had given him those first grade finger paintings. Juanita got a better look at his face and noted that his head was just shy of being shaved, and light glistened on the sporadic stubble on his cheeks and chin. He wasn’t what she would call handsome, but the look suited him.

She held the rifle pointed at center mass. “Are you looking to get killed, Mister?” she said and saw him smile a crooked grin. He would never be confused with any Hollywood pretty boy that was for sure. “Something funny?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He still rested the butt stock of the
Winchester on the pavement and he still wore that crooked grin. “You know, you look like a mini...” he said.

She
cut him off with a glare “I don't think you want to get into what we look like, do we?” she said, nodding to his hand.

His smile twitched, almost disappeared, and then reemerged.

“Are you retarded or something?” she asked, anger beginning to spark within her. Juanita did not like being mocked.

“No,” he said as he hunkered back down, “I’m
Arlington.” He nodded in her direction, “and that is Laptu.”

“Damn,” Juanita muttered, knowing that the hook handed bandit meant there was someone behind her. Juanita felt the carbine snatched from her hands from above her. She looked up and saw the great primate looming above her, his eyes were round. He appeared to be grinning too. She thought that maybe everyone had gone retarded, it was
Kentucky after all. She felt a wave of surrealism wash over her and she felt dizzy as her mind scrambled for reason. A trained ape, maybe escaped from the zoo? She began to swoon, but the ape steadied her, gently resting his enormous hands on her shoulders. She noticed that he smelled like fresh cut grass.

Arlington
could tell by Laptu’s expression that it took every last shred of restraint for the yeti not to pick her up and squeeze her. The Bigfoot’s eyes were round and dilated. “Baby! Laptu likes babies.”

Arlington
stood again and walked the remaining few feet that separated them. “She’s not a baby, big guy. She’s a midget.”

Juanita snapped her head back to face the man, anger replacing the earlier lapse of reason. “I have hypochondroplasia, you idiot,” she hissed.

“Doesn’t that mean you just think you’re sick but nothing’s really wrong?”

“That’s hypochondria. Hypochondr
oplasia means that I have a type of dwarfism, numbnuts,” she answered in a scathing tone.

“Sorry…” he said, then grinned that stupid grin of his and added to Laptu, “I shall call her Mini Salma,” in his best Dr. Evil impression that really wasn’t all that good.

Juanita wasn’t accustomed to a having a complete stranger freely poking fun at her. “Do it and see what happens to your balls,” she challenged him angrily.

Arlington
studied her for a moment and his expression changed to one of awkward embarrassment. “Listen, I was just kiddin’…” then he brightened, and again she thought that there was a very real possibility that he might actually be mildly retarded. “Let’s start over. I’m Arlington Neff and you are…”

Juanita snorted in disdain then reconsidered. If she gave him her name maybe then he wouldn’t call her any other stupid nicknames.

“Mendoza, Juanita Maria Mendoza,” she said and grudgingly took his proffered hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms. Mendoza,”
Arlington said politely.

She examined his face and decided that he was not patronizing her or playing her for a fool. “My car broke down and I need some shelter. Can you help me or not?”

“I think that can be arranged,” he said. “Can’t it, Laptu?”

“Baby…”

“She’s not a baby.”

“Baby!” insisted Laptu and
Arlington shook his head.

Arlington
looked down at Juanita “Don’t take offense. Laptu’s a good guy, but he’s a little slow sometimes.”

Juanita doubted that Laptu was the only one in this dynamic duo that was a little slow on the up take. “I want to warn you…warn both of you…if either of you try
anything
funny I won’t hesitate to shoot you in the balls when I get the chance.”

“What is it with you and balls?” asked
Arlington with a wink, and immediately saw the dark storm clouds brewing in her eyes and changed his tone. “Sorry. We get the point. Balls are bad, gotcha.” He spun smartly on his boot heel, and said over his shoulder, “Come on. I think you’ll like the ship.”

She wondered why he called his car a ship.  More than likely it was primer gray ’78 Ford Flatbed complete with fenders that flapped like wings as it beat the back roads. There weren’t any inland seas that she knew of for him to be sailing.

She followed them further around the blind curve and abruptly stopped dead in her tracks and nearly caused the Bigfoot to trip over her. She had been proud of how she had handled the appearance of a crypto-zoological beast, but this was getting to be too much. She wondered if this all had been some crazy dream and secretly hoped it had been. Maybe she would awaken with her legs and arms long and willowy, maybe they would end with graceful and nimble fingers and toes, and maybe she would wipe the sleep from her eyes and find herself on clean, starched sheets with the morning sun welcoming her to her usual life of millionaire ease.

Arlington
turned to her. “Well, whadaya think? Is this good enough shelter for ya, Ms. Mendoza?”

“I might as well enjoy the dream,” she mumbled and now understood why the cat had been killed by its curiosity. Sometimes the draw of that adventure was too much to resist. She examined the silver disk. It reflected the landscape like one of those convex highway mirrors. She wasn’t sure if any of this was real and she needed to know. She took small shuffling steps toward it and stopped abruptly as she looked at her reflection. In the reflective silver sheen her legs were long and thin and she felt her heart nearly stop before she realized that it was presenting her the way a funhouse mirror might.

A black man with a dog mask appeared at the top of the ramp and she almost laughed.
Is it Halloween already?

The Anubis peered at them with one red orb and Juanita saw that maybe there was a price for knowing those mysteries that all animals wanted to know. “There is a large troop of the dead approaching from the woods,” the Anubis reported in a distinctly British accent. Having given his report the Anubis turned abruptly and with long graceful strides disappeared into the shadows.

“That’s Basil. He’s an Anubis,” Arlington explained in his usual astute manner.

“No shit,” Juanita replied rolling her eyes.

Arlington shrugged sheepishly. “Are you comin’?”

There was really no doubt in her mind. “I will as long as you remember the rules.”

“Rules?” Arlington asked puzzled.

She nodded and her eyes narrowed coolly. “No touching. No midget jokes and I would like a ride to
Mexico.”

Arlington
pursed his lips considering as he let the rules sink in. “OK, why not?” He walked up the ramp and he looked over his shoulder to see that she was following him, and that Laptu was following closely, there-after. The primate was hot on the little Latina’s heels and looking lovingly at her. Arlington thought that Laptu might burst if he didn’t get to play with the ‘baby’ soon. “I don’t s’pose you know of any other survivor’s d’ya?”

Juanita paused for a moment, considering Hito and Shere, and then said, “No, just me.” Again she noticed the metal hook and was fascinated by it. The metal looked like the color of pools of oil in parking lots with its swirls of color in its makeup. She felt a huge hand petting her long straight brown hair and she glanced back at the grinning Bigfoot.

“Baby,” he whispered happily

She smiled up at the giant and he beamed back. She wrapped her hand around one of Laptu’s thick leathery fingers and led him up the ramp. With his free hand he kept reaching his long fingers out to touch her hair, then yanking them harmlessly back, laughing like a little kid.

   
  
Chapter 65 – La Ciudad de los Muerto

Juarez, Mexico