Dying Days 4 (8 page)

"Two at a time," the leader said.

Before she could answer no, the guy to the left of him stepped forward. "No fucking way. I don't want to see anyone else's dick while I'm tapping her ass. That's gay. I'm going to bang her and make her scream, but it won't be with an audience."

"Who's going first?" Tosha asked. She wanted to get this over with. She didn't care about fucking these losers as long as she lived. But at the slightest chance she could get away and/or kill them, she would.

"No way. I'm not leaving anyone alone with her," the leader said.

"Then you'll have to kill me, but there's no way I'll let you have anything left to even jerkoff on. Got it?" Tosha shook her red hair and casually stuck out her chest. "It's up to you, buddy."

The guy on his left lowered his rifle and stepped in front of the leader. "I'm going to fuck her. Get out of the room."

"Bullshit. I saw her first and I'm the boss."

"You ain't the boss of me," the guy who'd been quiet in the back said. "You need to leave the room now."

"Or what?"

Tosha fell back against the wall when the fourth guy fired a single shot into the former leader's head with a pistol.

"Holy shit," she muttered. She wasn't expecting that, but at least now it was three on one. Maybe she could reason with the other three. "What if we work together instead of doing something we'll all end up regretting? I could be useful."

The one who shot grinned. "Oh, you're going to be useful. Once I bend you over and put it in your ass." He turned to the other two men. "Go downstairs and wait your turn."

The two men grabbed all of her stuff, which pissed her off, but she'd be able to collect it after she'd dealt with them.

"Showtime," he said, and pointed the pistol at her midsection. "Strip down… slowly."

Tosha smiled. She heard the other two men as they went down the stairs. He wanted a show. She'd give him the best and last one of his life.

"I want to see it all. I haven't been with a woman in forever," he mumbled, more to himself. He was staring at her fingers as she unbuttoned her jeans and slowly unzipped them. Tosha made sure she was smiling, while watching for any opening to make her move.

"Turn around and show me that ass," he said.

She complied, spinning slowly as she pulled her jeans down to just under her ass, revealing her the curve of her ass cheeks. She turned slightly to her right and put her head over her shoulder with a grin. "Like what you see? Try to save some for your friends."

"No chance," he said and took a step forward.

Tosha turned and put a hand across the front of her pants, teasing him by running a finger up and down the zipper. "I'm wet," she whispered.

"I'm hard," he said. "Show me your pussy."

"I'd rather you tasted my pussy," she said.

Without another thought, he was putting the gun down and moving at her, eyes on the prize. He didn't even see the kick when she suddenly launched forward and kicked him in the balls.

Tosha gripped his head, covering his mouth, and got him in a chokehold. He was bigger than her but she had the advantage, and before he could compose himself, she'd already choked the air from him and twisted his neck so violently she was sure he was dead.

She grabbed his gun and was dismayed to see it was empty. The bastard had used his only bullet to kill the leader. She supposed she was thankful, but wished he had more. She checked his pockets and came up empty as well.

Pulling her jeans back up, she breathed deeply and relaxed before heading to the stairs. Her goal was to get a drop on the two guys and try to get to one of their weapons, but, as she exited the room, she saw with dismay they were both standing at the bottom of the steps and staring at her.

"Stop," one of them yelled and drew his pistol, firing as she ran back into the room and barely missing her. Tosha needed an escape route, but being on the second floor didn't offer much. She ran through what had once been sliding glass door but was now a gaping hole but as soon as she stepped onto the rotting upper deck she screamed. It immediately gave way and she fell, sliding down a large chunk of cracking wood and getting tossed onto the weeds. It cushioned her fall enough, but she was still stunned for a second.

Long enough for the two men to come running through the house after her.

Tosha jumped up and began running to the beach, sure they'd shoot her in the back at any moment.

"Get back here, you bitch," one of them was shouting. But no one was firing a shot, either so they didn't attract zombies, but more than likely because they were also out of ammo. Tosha realized the surprised looks from those two guys was more about not knowing she had bullets.

Tosha kept running down the beach, weaving in and out of zombies, before veering to her right and climbing up another rock wall and into another property. The two men were farther down the beach and the zombies were now paying attention to them.

She decided to circle back around, get her stuff, and get out of the area as quickly as possible.

When she rounded the side of the house and heard the car engine, she sighed.

A U-Haul van was parked in front of the house she'd been in with the engine running and five heavily-armed men and women were exiting, running into the home.

Tosha could only watch as they carried her backpack from the house and put it in the back of the truck, which was packed with furniture, garbage bags and cans of food.

The two guys following after her appeared two houses closer to the group, obviously looking for her, and they were spotted.

Shots rang out and Tosha ducked back behind the house so she wasn't seen or hit with a stray bullet. The firefight was over within half a minute. She waited, counting to thirty, before peeking out.

The two men following her were both dead and three of the men from the U-Haul were checking their bodies and picking them clean.

"No fucking ammo," one of the men said. "Another sorry group."

Tosha was about to find a better hiding spot to see which way they were going to go when she saw the first zombie attack, crawling under the U-Haul and pulling down one of the women standing there. Four more zombies came around the van and used a concentrated attack to pummel the group in moments, the smart zombies coordinating without a shot fired against them.

The three men near Tosha turned and began firing, but the zombies were using their former comrades as shields and the U-Haul for protection.

Tosha covered her mouth when five zombies appeared only feet from her on the next yard, coming up behind the three men. She didn't make a sound as the attack was quick and bloody.

One of the zombies opened the gas cap on the U-Haul and ripped off the shirt of one of the women, stuffing it in and lighting it with a lighter. The zombies laughed and ran in different directions.

Tosha didn't wait for the explosion. The area would be crawling with too many zombies drawn to the noise soon enough. She needed to keep moving south and hope for the best. Her only weapons were an empty gun and her anger.

Chapter Ten

"What do you see, Ernie?"

"Call me Cowboy. I want to be called Cowboy."

"I'm going to call you idiot in a second. What the fuck do you see?" Doug asked.

"They got the place pretty solid. Barricades and a wall built with a bunch of spikes and ditches on A1A for the zombies. Two higher rooftops with dudes with rifles patrolling. This setup is really cool. I'm guessing up and down Main Street all the side streets are blocked off as well. There are fences surrounding what's called the Ocean Center. Probably a place where Def Leppard played back in the day and they had wrestling matches."

"They don't anymore." Doug rubbed his stubbly chin. "Give me a guess on how many survivors are inside."

Cowboy shrugged. "Hard to say. From the vantage point I had, I couldn't see down the street. But I'm guessing quite a few, since they'd need that many to protect the gate and whatever other entrance they have."

Doug looked up at the sky through the rift in the ceiling. It would be getting dark soon. They needed to either make their presence known and hope for the best, or find a good place to hide. With all the activity on the other side of the walls, the area was crawling with zombies.

They were situated on the third floor of what used to be a Hilton hotel. They couldn't get higher since there was nothing left above them, just charred timber and slabs of loose concrete. Only a few of the rooms on this floor were intact, and most had gaping holes in most of the walls. There wasn't much protection if they were spotted.

"I don't think we have enough ammo to kill every guard, but we can try," Cowboy said.

"You're an idiot. Why would we attack them? Shots will bring zombies. We're exposed out here. We need to be in there. I want to sleep safely tonight, don't you? Sometimes I wonder how you've survived this long." Doug slipped a pistol into his boot and hefted one of the rifles. "Take a pistol and a rifle, load them, and leave everything else. We're going to park the SUV a couple of blocks away and lock it up and hope it's there in case we ever need it."

"Then what?"

"We walk down A1A and make our presence known by killing some zombies. We act like we had no idea this place exists, and we're grateful to have found a potential home," Doug said. "You keep quiet and let me talk. Two armed men walking down the street isn't something they've seen in awhile, and I hope they're taking in new recruits."

The pair slipped down the rubble-strewn stairs and exited out of the back of the hotel, ignoring the zombies in the area. A gunshot would give away their position and they wanted to make it look natural when they approached the gates.

Doug wondered if this would be his last shot at a safe haven where he could rule. He'd do like he always did: turn on the charm and get into a position of power inside the group before doing his thing. He hoped it would go better than Orlando had, when there'd been so much division and in-fighting they never saw the horde of zombies until it was too late.

They drove the SUV for nearly an hour until they found a decent spot over a mile away and south of Main Street. An old Dollar General store had been demolished but the back of the store was still intact, and they parked next to the building and covered the SUV with debris.

"Let's take a walk. We need to hurry before it gets dark. I don't want to get shot by someone with bad eyes at dusk," Doug said. "We'll start shooting as we get closer. I don't want to run out of ammo."

Cowboy nodded and the pair started walking at a fast pace down A1A, keeping clear of any zombies who didn't look too smart. The key was going to be getting within sight of the gates and the guards without too much trouble.

A zombie waved at them from the next intersection and Cowboy shot it in the face. "This is such shit now."

"I agree," Doug said. "Nice shot."

They picked up the pace. A zombie got too close and Doug smashed it in the face with his rifle butt and kept moving, not even bothering to stop and kill it again. It really didn't matter at this point.

"I miss Pizza Hut, don't you?" Cowboy asked as they walked past what was left of a restaurant. "Shit, this one had a lunch buffet." He pointed at the sign. "I could do some damage with an all-you-can-eat."

"Focus on what we're trying to do."

"You got it, boss."

Doug could see another zombie trying to casually slip behind them as they passed a devastated beach access area on their right. Doug kept walking, pushing past a couple of mindless zombies. He glanced at Cowboy. "We only have to travel a couple of long blocks and we'll be there."

"I know. Why are you telling me?"

Doug turned and fired a shot, hitting the zombie in the left eye as it tried to crouch and sneak up on them.

"Shit, warn me first," Cowboy said.

"If I warned you, I'd also warn the zombie," Doug said. "Let's get moving. We can start shooting after the next block."

They got to another intersection, where a dilapidated Daytona Beach sign was blocking the street. Doug fired off two shots and hit the mark with each; more or less to let the guards up ahead know they were out here.

Cowboy looked up at the street sign. "International Speedway. That way is the racetrack. I remember going all the time as a kid. My dad used to work a concession stand. I met so many cool drivers."