Fear of the Dead (17 page)

“
Goddamn it.”

11:22 AM

Eli nestled the MP5 in his hands. Safety off, crosshairs set between his eyes. He paced forward slowly, examining each and every corner within his line of sight before allowing himself a single step forward. He travelled from aisle to aisle, glancing at every which way he could.

As far as Eli knew, the place was empty. If Atton hadn’t heard him the first million times he’d called his name, then the man had either gone deaf, or he must have tripped over a vending machine he was trying to rob.

The mental image was enough to raise a chuckle or two.

“
Niggers. Can’t stay off looting can you?”

Eli slowly eased his shoulders, slung his weapon behind his back.

“
There’s no one here. I don’t know what the hell that nigger’s doin.’

“
Hey Atton! Atton! Come out here ‘fore I have to kick your black hairy ass!”

The aisles were empty, in the sense that the shelves were devoid of a looter’s mess. Everything was as it always had been. Neat. Clean. Organized. If he wasn’t around the aisles, then he must have been in the office. Or the bathroom. A possibility that in consideration didn’t seem so unlikely. If Atton was busy taking a shit, then he probably wouldn’t hear him. Or he wouldn’t have responded even if he did.

Still, half an hour was a lot of time to spend in the shitter. Eli decided to check the office first, so in the off-chance that he was right, he would have bought Atton some time to himself.

The manager’s office was small; cramped. Space was limited, and as a result the furniture had to conform to what little of the carpet room there was to spare. The desk was small, the loveseat in the back corner barely large enough to fit two people. The two seats in front looked far from comfortable, and the manager’s leather swivel chair was just a little over enough to fit Eli’s scrawny ass. If the bulging man in the pictures on the office desk was any indication of the man that sat on that chair, then perhaps miracles really did exist.

Eli pulled open the drawers, finding nothing but boring old stationeries and stacks of printed paper, receipts, and forms. When he searched underneath it all, Eli saw what looked to be a magazine of kinds. It was hidden, tucked underneath a stack of blank printing paper. When he fished it out, Eli’s eyes widened at the sight.

“
Hoo. Would you look at what we have here?”

He turned to the portrait of office manager Benito Gonzalez and his family.

“
I bet the wife don’t know ‘bout this one does she? Well, Benny my man. You done made me proud.”

Eli simpered, then gently laid the September issue of Amateur Hotties on the business end of Benito’s desk. He glanced wondrously at the color pages, skipping while ogling at the pictures and reading the headlines. Women of all shapes and sizes straddled on long, lean cocks, moaning before the camera. One feature was a simple collection of women’s faces while they were being fucked. An article on the back page called
Doing
The Bronco
had a woman doggy styled, squirming whilst trying to break free from her naked, tattooed hunk.

The article explained what it called
The Bronco
as simply taking a girl from behind, moaning someone else’s name, and then riding her on as she tried to pull him out.

Eli felt his pants begin to bulge. He slowly undid his zipper, then gently caressed his little member. He stared at the blonde woman on the page, trying to break free from her captor whilst cringing in agony. Eli tugged and tugged, and got faster, harder.

11:32 AM

After cleaning his hands, Eli went to check for Atton inside the public restroom. He wasn’t there, but the men’s room reeked of shit and weed. He went back outside, returned to the truck, and sure enough there he was.

“
Where were you?” Atton asked.

“
Motherfucker I was lookin’ for you.”

“
Well. Here I am.”

“
I can see that.”

Eli took his seat beside the driver’s.

“
You get what you need?”

Atton cocked his head directly behind. Eli looked back, and saw that Atton had packed in some blocks of cherry wood, a few axes and crowbars, and cardboard boxes filled with batteries.

“
So, where do we go now?”

“
Back,” Atton said. “I couldn’t find bandages, so we’ll bring this stuff over first.”

“
Sounds good to me. I could use some breakfast anyhow.”

Say what Eli could about Grace, she was nothing if not a good cook.

Atton turned the key.

11:41 AM

The truck hummed along the street in relative silence. Neither Eli nor Atton spoke for the rest of their ride back to Costco. Eli spent the time toying with the MP5 on his lap, removing then reinserting its crescent-shaped magazine.

He wondered how many bullets he could get out in one second of repeated fire. He also was curious to know which mode on the dial was full automatic fire, and which was semi.

He’d never carried an MP5 before let alone fired one. Submachine guns were illegal for civilians. Only law enforcement could keep them around, and even then not very many policemen did.

“
I am a lucky man,” he thought out loud.

Atton swiveled.

“
What?”

“
Nothing.”

Atton’s eyes went back to the road. Eli’s nose began to itch, and he felt another sneeze come his way. He held his nose to suppress the urge, but it was too late. With the sheer force of his sneeze, Eli felt his head shoot back.

“
Damn it.”

“
You know, maybe we really ought to find a pharmacy before we decide to head on back. Grace is going to need them, and as far as I can tell you could use some allergy meds.”

Eli hated his situation, but he nonetheless had to agree. As hungry as he was, the sneeze had to be taken care of as soon as possible before it got any worse.

“
I suppose you’re right. My shit ain’t gettin’ any better, and my head feels like a goddamn balloon.”

“
I think I saw a drug store on our drive over. We can probably scope the place out.”

11:46 AM

The drug store was a mom and pop operation. Or at least it seemed that way from the look of things. Everything from its podunk walls, its fainted, unkempt paint job, to the label at the front, which read
Griffin’s Drugs,
made the hint.

Shoddy though the place seemed to be, so long as they had the right stuff, Eli couldn’t complain. They went inside, together this time. The store was located in the middle of the city, not around a parking complex like Lowes was. Zombies could have been hiding anywhere. Cities were as good as breeding grounds for zombies, so extra precautions were necessary.

Atton searched the shelves for some basic medication while Eli took to the drugs beyond the cash register.

“
What are you looking for?” asked Atton.

“
I’m checkin’ to see if they’ve got some morphine pills ‘round here.”

“
Good idea. Anyhow, they’ve got some allergy meds right here.”

Atton rattled a bottle and tossed it over to Eli’s outstretched hands. Eli dunked down three pills before eventually reading the label. He didn’t feel better yet, but he was willing to give it some time.

“
Say Atton, what’s your favorite kind a’ food?”

“
Why are you asking?”

“
No reason. Jus’ starvin’ is all. Thought came up so I thought I’d ask.”

“
Nothing specific comes to mind. I guess what I miss the most though is hamburgers.”

Eli gazed longingly in the distance.

“
Yeah. Burgers are nice. You ever had that thing with the melted cheese and the mushroom?”

Atton shook his head.

“
It’s been a while since I had a big mac. What I wouldn’t do to have one right now.”

“
Big mac’s got mayonnaise on it.”

“
Mayonnaise isn’t bad.”

“
Mayonnaise is French.”

“
Last I heard you deep south boys are French.”

“
Is that right?”

“
Yeah? Don’t you know?”

“
Ne’er heard nothin’ bout it.”

“
Yeah. The Creoles lived up in Louisiana right when Uncle Sam bought it from the French. Used to be property of the First Republic.”

“
You learn that back in high school or somethin?”

“
Wyden Hall,” Atton corrected.

“
What? You mean in that goofy ass library a’ theirs?”

“
You could have learned something too if you ever bothered to try reading a book or two.”

“
Yeah, well excuse me for havin’ better things to spend my time with. Namely tryin’ to survive.”

“
You spent most of your time picking fights. You call that surviving?”

“
Hey,” shot Eli, his eyes affixed to Atton’s. “I did what I fuckin’ had to do stay alive in there. You think that just ‘cause I had to do some rough shit that I had myself a fuckin’ good time?”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
You’d better be sorry. I had to roll with a numbskull who thought that niggers were the scourge a’ the Earth. You think it’s easy ridin’ with a crowd like that? Before Wyden Hall the only crime I er’ committed was goin’ 90 on a 65. I ain’t a goddamn felon. I didn’t deserve to be there! I was thrown in for a crime I didn’t even commit! Shit was tough for me man. Harder on me than you, and we both know it. So don’t you dare fuckin’ judge me for what I had to do to keep my ass alive.”

Atton dropped his shoulders.

“
You’re right man. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Eli sighed, then settled down.

“
Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ just ain’t got too many fond memories a’ the place. Y’know what I’m saying?”

“
Yeah man.”

Eli staved away the unpleasant retentions, and skirted back to his regular, flippant self.

“
Say, you ever heard of the singer by the name a’…”

Just then, something smacked on the floor behind them.

“
What the…”

Eli turned to the sound, saw a shadow sprint into a corner.

“
You see that?”

Atton only nodded, steeled himself with his shotgun in hand.

“
It was a girl,” he muttered silently.

“
You mean a zombie.”

“
No. I…I don’t know.”

Eli leapt over the counter and cocked his weapon. He was about to pass by Atton when he felt his arm block his path.

“
I’ll lead,” Atton said.

Eli couldn’t imagine why, but “Alright.”

Atton scoped the area with Eli following two steps behind. The noise of footsteps continued but dulled as the two lagged progressively behind. Finally the girl stormed out of the pharmacy doors, peddling her bare feet outside. Eli shoved past Atton and darted immediately after her. She was fast, but in time he picked up enough distance to grant him a clear shot of the zombie’s back. He stopped, held his position, and stared at her nape with the iron sights set before his eyes.

The girl was a red head, clad in a thin grey sweater and a long brown skirt. She was medium height, slim, and slender-skinned. Eli set his sights before he moved to fire a round. But before he could, Atton’s giant hand leapt into view and knocked his barrel down just as he was about to fire. Eli flinched, pulled down the trigger, and bursts of semi-automatic fire came out, sending bullets storming down against the concrete.

“
Atton what the hell are you doing?!”

“
You don’t know if she’s infected!”

“
Of course I know she’s infected!”

The girl continued to run, sprinting faster and further along the road until she stopped.

“
What the hell?”

The girl quickly spun around, and the full details of her face emerged.

Her brows were the same color as her hair, which made her a natural red. She was young, no older than 18 years old, if even that. She had a long nose and a cleft chin. But most of all, her eyes were blue. Not red.

Atton and Eli kept themselves as they were, stunned at what they saw, uncertain of how exactly to react. The girl stared back all the same, scared and confused. Not hungry. Not angry. Not like the zombies.

“
Say something,” Atton called.

She didn’t speak.

“
Hello? Can you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The young girl acknowledged, but only shook her head. She brought her hands slowly up in front of her, and used them to create symbols in the air.

Eli furrowed his brows.

“
What the hell?”

“
She’s deaf. She can’t hear us.”

“
She heard that gunshot well enough.”

“
Felt it, more like.”