Floyd & Mikki (Book 2): Zombie Slayers (Dawn of the Living) (19 page)

Floyd crawled out from under the truck and delivered his assessment.

“Well, the bad news is the axle is broken on one side. Good news is you got a double axle in the back and the other axle is fine. All we gotta do is lift the truck a bit, yank the tire out of the way, and you should be good to go again.”

“Great,” said Jack, unenthusiastically. “How do we do that out here?”

“Well, there’s gotta be a jack on the tanker. You don’t need to lift it much, just enough so we can pull the tire out with the axle attached. I can rig a line to our Doom Buggy and yank it out like a bad tooth.”

“Well, whatever works. It’s Grover’s truck. Grab any other men you need and get it done.”

“Will do.”

Grover was about 30 years old. A stocky man with a thick neck and a scruffy beard. He got the jack going while Floyd tied a rope behind the tire and left some slack when he tied the other end to the Doom Buggy. Floyd hit the gas and when the line snapped tight, the tire popped right out. It also knocked the jack out from under the tanker, but that was no problem. The jack was fine and the truck was ready to go. Everyone in the caravan cheered.

The tanker was nearly full, so Jack let Floyd top off his gas tank. After that, it was time to meet the other members of the troop. There were 15 people left, including three women other than Mya. Becky was one of three children in the group.

They had come from all over the Western US, surviving on their own and hooking up one or two at a time with Jack. They rightly guessed there was safety in numbers, but there were damn few people left that were untouched by the infection. Even fewer animals.

Grover had been driving the tanker truck when the outbreak was first reported. When he tried to make a delivery at a gas station and was greeted by a crowd of the undead, he headed for the highway and stayed as far away from any cities or towns as possible. He called his buddy Jack on the CB, who joined him in his pickup truck, which was fitted with a cabin shell over the bed.

The two kept the tanker loaded with unleaded gasoline, while Jack kept two huge cans full of diesel fuel for the tanker. The tanker had a large capacity fuel tank and a reserve tank as well. When necessary, they’d head into town in Jack’s truck, loaded with shotguns and pistols to raid whatever they could, and then retreat as soon as possible. CB radios didn’t have much of a range unless there was good skip in the atmosphere, but over the past two years, they occasionally found someone on emergency channel nine, or picked up a survivor along the way. They had found Becky hiding like a rabbit in one of the abandoned gas stations and Doc was living in the back of the ambulance, out of gas and out of luck until they came along. The caravan grew from there.

A couple of people had heard about Floyd and Mikki’s adventures off the CB or shortwave radio and shared the stories. They suspected the tales had been exaggerated, and many doubted that the legendary Zombie Hunters really even existed. Everyone in the Freedom riders group was more than impressed to learn that the stories were, in fact, true. They really had defeated a giant undead grizzly bear. Mikki really had blown up an entire city. They really did commandeer an Obama tactical assault vehicle. They really did paint a heart on their grenades and on buildings they had visited. Mikki’s boobs really were as big as everyone had reported.

As the group pelted the two with questions, Mya never took her eyes off Floyd, except to glare at Mikki. Mikki refused to look at her, pretending not to notice—but she put her arm around Floyd’s waist and pulled him closer. Crazy Joe did the same with Mya (not that it did any good).

One of the women opened up the back of an old Ford Aerostar. It had been converted to a sort of rolling commissary. It was loaded with dried food and various sizes of bottled water. She passed out some of the water and a couple of bags of beef jerky to share.

Floyd and Mikki learned asked more about the small city nearby, and the makeshift military camp on the outer perimeter. The roof of a rather large hospital could be seen from where they were. There wasn’t much else on the highway in either direction for miles. Floyd commented that the military had probably brought people here early to contain the infection. Hell, the Army Corps of Engineers might have even built the hospital.

Given the number of Super Zs they had recently killed, Floyd and Mikki figured they had probably cleared out the camp of undead soldiers. The IFF in their helmets, Floyd’s training sessions, and dumb luck had all played in their favor. They decided to check the camp. After that, they might take a look at the town, but from what Doc was saying, they would avoid the hospital. No sense stirring up that undead hornet’s nest if they could help it. No one had forgotten that even regular zombies could be a serious threat if they were riled up in sufficient numbers.

A few of the men volunteered to go with them, including Raul and Carlos, but Floyd and Mikki insisted on going alone, suggesting the men pick through the zombie carcasses for helmets and armor, instead. The two Zombie Hunters successfully argued that no one was as well armored, equipped, or experienced as they were, but the real reason was that they didn’t want to babysit anyone who would probably only get in their way. If anyone died, Floyd and Mikki would get the blame. No thanks!

They set out in the Doom Buggy, but parked a good distance away from the military perimeter, scanning every inch of the camp through their helmet cams. A tall chain link fence topped with barbed wire had once surrounded the compound, but much of it had collapsed over the past two years. A number of military trailers and manufactured homes had been hauled into the area. One of the trailers had several antennas and a small satellite dish on top. Mikki thought it looked interesting and wanted to investigate that first. They could see no movement of any kind in the area.

“Well, Floyd, here we are again.”

“Same shit, different zombies.”

“Doin’ what we do best.”

“I reckon.”

“You ever wonder if there’s a point to all of this, Floyd?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know there’s a point to it.”

“Really? And what’s that?”

“Don’t be dead and don’t be bored.”

Mikki laughed. “Well, we ain’t been bored in a while, that’s fer sure! Looks like you were right about them Super Creepers, too. Looks like they all left to join the fightin’. Don’t seem to be any more around.”

“Maybe. We’ll see when we actually get inside.”

“You got a plan, Mr. Man?”

“Nope. I figure this time we do it Mikki style.”

“Why does it scare me that you’re sayin’ that?”

“I dunno. Maybe you’re getting smatter with age.”

“Smart ass!”

“Better than a dumb ass! Let’s go.”

Loaded with grenades, and each carrying a Mini Uzi on their backs, the two donned their helmets and walked slowly but purposefully toward the nearest opening in the fence, Bonnie and Clyde ever ready to protect them. Wind blew dust in swirling circles around them as they walked, but it wasn’t enough to obscure their vision. The helmets didn’t even register the blowing dust on the vision screens.

It was like entering one of those ghost towns in an old western movie, except the abandoned buildings were made of steel instead of rotted wood. For a change, nothing lurked behind any of the buildings, and they made it to the communications trailer without incident. Mikki stood ready as Floyd moved to throw open the door. She stood a little off to the side, though, in case something jumped out or fired in her direction. She didn’t feel like getting shot in the chest again anytime soon. The bruises on her boobs had finally all disappeared.

She waited for nothing. Floyd tried several times, but the door was locked from the inside. He tried knocking and got no answer. Mikki laughed at him for knocking, but Floyd insisted you never knew if someone could be inside. She threw in the anti-armor clip and blew a hole in the door where it seemed the bolt would be.

It worked. The door pulled open easily.

It also turned out that Floyd had been right. There
were
people inside! Four technicians sat at consoles loaded with monitors and blinking machinery. Sadly, they were all dried out and covered in dust and cobwebs. Help had arrived a couple of years too late.

“I don’t think you’ll find
Doom
on these computers,” Floyd quipped,” But I’m sure you’ll find something.”

“Poor bastards. Musta locked themselves in when the rest turned Super Z on them. Gimme a hand movin’ these bodies, Floyd.”

They dragged the bodies out of the chairs and dumped them into a corner. They left the door wide open to let out the stink that had been locked up in the room.

“Damn, Floyd! Get a load o’ this!”

Mikki pointed to a map of the United States on the large monitor that dominated the center of the console. Numerous circles pulsated in red over every major city and town. Clearly, the camp still had power from somewhere. “Looks like this is how it all began, city by city.”

Mikki found a replay command on the interface screen. Using the mouse, she clicked it, and the map went blank. Then a small red dot appeared on Washington, DC. Several smaller dots appeared in larger cities such as Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York. Almost simultaneously, dots appeared in nearly every state, including Hawaii and Alaska. The oldest dots started growing in size. Soon the entire Eastern Seaboard was covered in overlapping transparent red circles. Soon after, growing circles swallowed up the West Coast as well. It was odd, because there was no pattern to it. It didn’t start from one location and spread. It started in several locations far apart from each other.

Mikki found another command to expand the view. The map switched to an expanded globe, with red dots appearing in other countries, as well. Those dots started multiplying and growing before the USA was covered in red. The two sat in stunned horror, witnessing how the outbreak had conquered the world. Any hopes of anyone overseas coming to their aid were clearly unfounded—not that they had any such hopes to begin with. The map confirmed what they had known in their hearts, all along.

They were on their own.

Within about 20 minutes, Mikki had figured out enough of the user interface to bring up maps for anywhere in the world. There was even a satellite option, enabling her to zoom right in to any location. The only problem was, they couldn’t be sure if the images were recent or two years old. She did find something that seemed to be promising, though. A camp of some sorts was only about 50 miles away. If the satellite images were recent enough, it meant there was another small pocket of survivors nearby.

Mikki printed out a number of maps of the surrounding area for Floyd, including a route to the newly discovered camp. She also printed out maps of the nearby town. In one, she zoomed in on a route to the hospital, which wasn’t far past the outer boundary. The satellite images even had all the buildings labeled, although there was no mistaking the hospital, with its helipad and a big red cross on the roof. There was even a helicopter up there, but neither Floyd nor Mikki knew how to fly one.

Leaving the mobile Comm Center, Mikki used a can of red spray paint to tag the outside with their logo before the two investigated the rest of the camp. None of the trailers or large canvas tents had any markings, and everything was flat black in color. No army green or camouflage was to be seen, which seemed a bit odd for a military base. One large tent had obviously been a barracks, but was devastated inside. With no solid door to keep out the Super Zs when they turned, whoever was in there at the time had been ripped to pieces. Body parts and remnants of shredded sleeping cots were strewn everywhere. Many had probably turned while they were sleeping in their bunks, then they went on a rampage.

One trailer sat in front of a number of tables and benches that were sitting under a tarp. Surprisingly, it was still intact, offering shade and shelter to nonexistent outdoor diners. The trailer, of course, was a well-stocked mobile diner. The multimillion-dollar military version of a mobile roach coach.

“Well, I’ll be damned!”

“What is it, now, Floyd?”

“Do you like hamburgers?”

“I did, before the world went all to shit. Why?”

Floyd held up a plastic pouch he had pulled from a freezer. “’Cause we got hamburgers, baby!”

“No shit! Really?” Mikki asked, all excited.

“Really! Flash frozen and vacuum sealed!”

Mikki had never seen Floyd smile that big in all the time she had known him. Well, not out of bed, anyway.

“Maybe we got meat, but it ain’t a hamburger without buns.”

Floyd opened a cupboard door and stepped back, gesturing with his hand for her to take a look. There were stacks and stacks of various bread products in sealed packages. One stack had packages labeled “Hamburger Buns.”

“Ha! You try one first. I’m still get sick thinkin’ ‘bout them damn oyster crackers.”

Floyd laughed and popped open a bag. He took a big bite. “We had these in when I was in the Army,” he explained. “They ain’t as soft as a regular bun, and the bread is made a little different, but I never appreciated ‘em before as much as I do now!”

He tore off a chunk and passed it to Mikki. She took it reluctantly. It looked like bread, but felt a little weird. She, sniffed it, examined it, and eventually took a bite. Much better than two-year old stale oyster crackers.

“Hey, these are good. A little weird, but good enough to throw a burger on.”

“Let’s get grillin’!”

Floyd lit the propane grill, and five minutes later they were munching on “fresh” hamburgers. When loaded with some kind of ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise substitute, pickles and non-dairy cheese product, the buns didn’t taste weird at all. The two were in heaven. Cheeseburger in Paradise.

They ate seated at one of the benches. Floyd used a couple of cold water bottles to make some kind of limeaid with beverage powder. For a few brief minutes, it was like the world had suddenly turned normal.

When they were done, Mikki opened the door to one of the freestanding porta-potties. She was greeted by the gaping mouth of a time-ravaged corpse. It damn near fell on her. What a helluva way to die! She grabbed the thing, threw it out on the ground and stepped inside to do her business.
When you gotta go, you gotta go.
Floyd took the one next to her, which was unoccupied.

Returning to the task at hand, they found a fairly empty supply trailer, the admin trailer, commander’s quarters (complete with the commander—long dead), and a large trailer that was half-filled with unopened MREs. Floyd stood their gaping. Mikki didn’t understand his fascination with MREs, but they made him happy, so she accepted it.

“We are definitely marking this on the map. Don’t you go blowin’ up this place, Mikki, you hear?”

“Are you kidding? Wouldn’t dream of it. At least, not until all the hamburgers run out.”

The two put their helmets back on and continued their exploration. As they walked along the perimeter, a sudden loud banging noise made them both jump. Holding up their shotguns, they scanned the area rapidly for any immediate danger.

The noises were coming from a trailer on the edge of the camp. The closer they got, the louder, more frequent and more urgent the banging became. Something inside—or rather several somethings—were desperately trying to get out. The door handle kept turning up and down, incessantly.

Normally, the trailers locked from the inside, but this one was different. This one had a metal bar welded on over the door and was sealed with a heavy padlock. Whoever the welder was had wanted the contents to stay inside the trailer.

“I give ya three guesses what’s in there, Floyd.”

“I only need one. Real question is, how many are in there?”

“You gonna let ‘em out, aintcha?”

“Only way to make sure they won’t become a problem is to kill ‘em.”

“Alright. Cain’t be more than a dozen in there. Trailer ain’t that big.”

“I reckon only two or three. Not enough banging from inside to be a dozen.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out. You get the door. Shoot ‘em in the back as they come out and I’ll shoot ‘em in the front.”

“Right!”

“You gonna shoot off the lock, or should I?”

“No need.” Floyd reached around the corner and pulled a ring off a hook. He held it up to show Mikki. It had one key dangling from it.

“Convenient,” Mikki said.

Sure enough, the key fit the padlock. A quick flip of the bar and the door was free. Only moments later it burst open.

Four Super Zs emerged from the metal prison, and they were pissed! Fortunately, none of them were armored. In fact, they were all in their underwear. Military gray underpants and brown T-shirts. Skin was peeling off every limb and half their faces were all gone, but they all still had those horrible, drippy eyes and mouths.

They moved so fast, it was hard to aim, so Mikki just started firing rapidly in their general direction. Floyd tried a different approach and shot at their legs. One of them lost a femur and stumbled before catching itself. That gave Floyd enough time to blow the other leg off above the knee.

Mikki managed to blow the head off of one as it turned around to see where it was. Another tripped over the body of the Super that Floyd had deprived of its legs. It caught its balance, dove over the body of its fallen buddy, executed a perfect summersault and came back up onto its feet. It stood up just in time to meet the barrel of Mikki’s shotgun, but didn’t have enough time to say goodbye to its face before Mikki pulled the trigger.

The last one took a flying leap at Mikki, who deftly dodged to the right out of its way. It swept a leg at Mikki’s ankles but she jumped out of the way. After taking a shotgun blast in the back from Floyd, it turned and leapt straight at him. Floyd blew it away at the neck as it sailed in his direction.

“Well, that went well,” Floyd commented, noting the bodies on the ground.

“Don’t forget yer creepy crawly,” Mikki reminded him, pointing to the torso that was rapidly scuttling in Floyd’s direction, dragging itself along with its hands. Floyd jammed Clyde’s barrel right in the creature’s mouth and pulled the trigger.

“What creepy crawly?” he asked.

“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Mikki led the way into the trailer. It seemed a lot bigger on the inside. From the looks of the equipment and debris, it had been some sort of medical facility.

Nearly everything had been smashed. Computers, medicine cabinets, syringes, medical lighting—everything was in shattered pieces on the ground. There were 10 overturned medical gurneys, all fitted with heavy metal straps. Six still had corpses firmly attached, but four were empty with the straps ripped open. No doubt, that’s where the four Super Zs had been inadequately restrained. The remains of several doctors and nurses in white lab coats with old, dark brown bloodstains were strewn about the place as well.

The two were just about to leave when Mikki noticed something in the corner. She picked it up and inspected it. She flipped a latch and opened the lid. It turned out to be a laptop that had been ruggedized to withstand rain, weather, drops from high places, and other punishment. Including zombies.

Floyd laughed. “Leave it to you to find the only working computer in here,” he quipped. “What games you think you’re gonna find on that one?”

“I ain’t lookin’ for games, Floyd. Flip up that gurney for me, will ya? Looks like it’ll stand up OK”

Floyd did as he was asked, and Mikki set the laptop on it. She hit the button, but nothing happened.

“Maybe it ain’t as rugged as it looks,” Floyd suggested.

“Nah, this thing looks like it could withstand a grenade. More likely the battery drained over the years. I bet there’s a power supply around here somewheres.”

Sure enough, after about five minutes of hunting through shards of broken medical vials, pieces furniture, and body parts, Mikki found what she was looking for. She plugged one end into the laptop and the other into a wall socket. A tiny light started to glow on the lid.

Mikki smiled. She hit the power button, and this time the laptop screen lit up. She was greeted with a very interesting question, “Restore from hibernate?” Mikki traced her finger along the built-in mouse pad and tapped to select “yes.”

Someone had been trying to send a message with several attachments. A button at the bottom of the screen read, “Send.” Whatever was in the message, it had never been sent. Mikki started reading the email and opened all the attachments, one by one.

“Holy shit!” she said eventually.

“What’s up?”

“Floyd, it wasn’t no accident these military guys showed up here! This whole damn town was a lab! They was doin’ experiments on the zombies here. This was part of the research to try and find a cure.”

“Just our luck to run into the only place in the USA where they decided to experiment on brain-eaters.”

“Not really. Looks like they had at least 29 camps, because the email signature is from ‘Desert Station Zebra, Project Bokor 29.’ I don’t know what ‘Bokor’ means, but it seems pretty clear the town next door here is number 29. Must be a bunch o’ these little nowhere towns tucked away all over the US. The research is fascinating!”

“You mean you understand all those numbers and diagrams?”

“I ain’t no doctor, Floyd!” Mikki snapped, “But I ain’t stupid, neither. I can figure out a lot of it. And it don’t take a rocket scientist to read this email and figure out they had no idea what they was doin.’ They were tryin’ everything to find an answer as soon as possible. They never found one, but there’s a whole lotta data on this laptop.”

Mikki sat back and looked at the screen. After thinking a bit, she moved the mouse curser and clicked Send.

“What’d you do that for?” Floyd asked.

“Who knows? Maybe somebody’s still out there. Maybe this information will help. Maybe someone will answer back. I don’t know, but it don’t seem like it can do much harm.”

Mikki powered down the laptop and put it in her backpack, along with the power cord. If nothing else, maybe they could raid a computer store and pick up some games she could add to it later. And who knows? Maybe they might run into someone someday who could make some real sense out all the data on the laptop.

“Doc!” Mikki shouted. “Duh, Floyd! I bet doc could make more sense of this research.”

“Good idea. We’ll show it to him when we get back. If you’re done in here, we still got a couple more trailers to check.”

“Right. Hope we find some more grenades!”

“Damn, girl! Don’t you ever have enough grenades?”

“Floyd! A girl can never have enough grenades!”

He laughed. Mikki was one of a kind.