Snareville II: Circles (2 page)

At the door, the first guard held up his hand, palm out. “Guns,” the giant said.

“No.” Dan shook his head.

All the guards took a step. Some blocked the door, all stood, fists at their sides and waited for the next move.

“Guns,” the first giant said again. “Last time I’ll ask nice.”

“Look,” Dan said. “We’re a little paranoid about that. We just rode a hundred miles through this state. We dodged packs of zeds the whole way. The last thing any of us want is to get surrounded by a swarm and our guns to be out here in a pile.”

The giant looked down at Dan. He had at least six inches and a good seventy pounds on Dan. It’d be a one sided fight, if it came to it. He only had a couple of guys and some girls with him. Still, there was something about them that backed him up a step.

“Look, kid…”

“Death,” Dan said. “My name is Captain Dan Death. These are some of my Raiders. All we want is lunch.”

The giant flinched like someone had stabbed him. All the guards shuffled their feet. They looked at their boss for the next move.

The big man swallowed. “Yes sir, Captain Death. You should have introduced yourselves sooner.”

“Sorry… what’s your name again?”

“Polinsky.”

“Sorry, Polinsky. We’re tired. As I said, we’ve been on the trail for three days. What do you recommend for lunch?” Dan locked eyeballs with the man. He didn’t reach for his guns. If the guy didn’t back down, they’d simply move on down the road. But he was damned tired of canned hash. He wanted a meal.

“Th-the catfish is good. Right out of the river, Sir. Or you could try the steak. They killed a good cow two days ago, so the beef is fresh.”

“Thanks,” Dan said. “Think I’ll try the beef. We get a lot of fish at home.” He smiled. The big man returned a nervous chuckle. Dan reached for the door as the guards parted. Polinsky gave an unprofessional salute as they walked in. Dan returned it and stepped into the darkness.

Dan walked across the main floor and found a place for his crew at the bar. There were a half-dozen people scattered throughout the place. The bartender looked them over as they sat down. When he saw they were still armed, his face started to redden.

“I’m Captain Dan Death, this is my crew,” Dan said as he held out his hand. The bartender took it, curses locked behind his teeth. “Polinsky did right and asked for our guns. We just said no.”

“I’m Havers. I own this place. I don’t want any trouble. From these yokels, or from you. Only reason you got in with your guns is you’re military. Don’t bust up the place.” He pulled his hand back. “What can I getcha?”

“A beer to start,” Dan said, “And some lunch to go with it.”

Havers pulled five brown bottles of local brew from the cooler, took their orders and disappeared into the galley. Jinks took Ella by the arm. There was a tattoo parlor attached to the bar. They both decided to get inked while they waited for the food. The men exchanged news from the locals with news from their area. One thing that everyone wanted was information about how things were going in different places.

The music was loud, the beer wasn’t bad. Savanna was on the power grid set up for the windmills forty miles south and east. Over the music, the pop of a small gun made Dan’s crew jump. As he reached for his pistol, Dan scanned the room. Another shot followed from the end of the bar, followed by a grinding moan and the Raiders started to draw their weapons.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Havers shouted over the music. “Put ’em away. Nothing’s goin’ on. Just Petey playing pop the zed.”

Dan looked at the man, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

Havers jerked his thumb toward the end of the bar. A guy stood, .22 pistol in hand and drew a bead on the chest of a woman zed. The walking corpse was pierced and tattooed over most of her rotten skin. Petey fired his shot. Black blood oozed from a small hole in the zed’s left nipple. She moaned again from behind the bars of her cage.

“Tell him to knock it off while we’re here, would you, Havers?” Dan asked. “Makes us a bit jumpy.”

“He’s already paid for his six rounds.”

“Add ’em to my bill and I’ll buy him another six he can use when we leave.”

Havers shrugged, walked to the end of the bar. Next to the zombie, a girl danced in a similar cage. She didn’t have any bullet holes, so Dan guessed she was the entertainment in this establishment. She swayed to the rhythm of the music that blared from the wall speakers. On the right side of her skull, a long white scar ran through her greasy blond hair, down over her eye to stop at her chin. An eyepatch covered her right eye. Tattoos were etched across most of her body, gold and silver piercings filled many of her other body parts. Gold loops followed her slit downward and back. Ella and Jinks stood beside the cage, Ella with one hand clutching the bar. Mumbled words reached Dan’s ear. He couldn’t make them out, but the girl looked at the ground and shook her head. Ella reached through the bars and laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned to Jinks, then glared at the rest of the group at the bar.

“What’s with the other girl?” Cody asked as Havers set their meals on the bar in front of them. Jinks and Ella returned; fresh ink bandaged with swaths of gauze. Ella’s peeked under the buttons of her shirt, Jinks’ from her belt line.

“Crazy stripper we found wandering down the road. We keep her fed, she keeps dancing. The other one, she used to work here until her boyfriend infected her.”

“So you figured you’d get some more use out of her?” Dan asked.

“We get use out of both, just used different.”

“Nice,” Ella muttered around a mouthful of catfish. She glanced over at Dan. “Dad?”

Dan shoved a slice of steak into his mouth. “What?”

Ella did nothing more than look at him. Dan met her gaze. When she went back to her fish, he turned to his meal. The music stopped. Dan heard the moan of the zed. The dancer in the cage stood still as she waited for the next song. Dan glanced down the bar.

“She have all those rings in her when she came in, Havers?”

“Naw. Neither one did. Our guy in the tat shop practices on them. Cherry’s easier to do than Shel. An’ you ain’t apt to get bit from her either. We kinda stopped doin’ Shel. She’s gettin’ a bit rotten.”

“Great info while I’m eating,” Dan said.

“Hey, you asked.”

“True. Let me ask you something.” Dan swallowed his steak, washed it down with a pull of his beer. “You sell the dancer?”

“Sell her for fifteen minutes for five cans.”

Ella choked on her fish, started to say something. Dan stopped her with a look.

“No. Not what I mean. You sell her permanently? Sell her loose.”

“I don’t know. I make a lot off her.”

“I understand.” Dan turned back to his meal. He was almost finished. Havers turned back to the sink to wash glasses. “Wouldn’t have to feed her if she was gone,” Dan said.

Havers didn’t say anything. He washed his glasses, set them in his rack to dry.

“When we pay up and leave, the offer walks,” Dan said.

“I don’t take cash money.”

“I ain’t offering.”

“Whatchu got?”

Dan cut the last slice of his steak in half, popped one bite into his mouth. Cherry danced to the new tune on the stereo. He stabbed the last chunk of meat, smeared it around in the sauce on his plate.

“Gets colder than hell up here in the winter, don’t it?” Dan asked.

“Freeze my ass off. Heat ain’t always steady.”

Dan looked at Havers then called Ella over. He whispered into the girl’s ear. She scampered outside.

“She one of your fighters?”

“That and my daughter. My wives and I saved her from being prostituted up in Chicago. We took her in. Her folks are dead. Figure she’s my kid after three years.”

Havers swallowed. He had lost a little color in his face. “Oh. Someone used to sell her? How old is she?”

“Fifteen now. Twelve when we found her. Guy used her for five or six months before that. Had her chained in a back room.” Dan took the last pull from his beer as Ella stepped in the door.

“Oh,” Havers said again. Ella handed Dan the package she carried under her arm.

He laid it out on the counter in front of him. To the other side was a pile of a dozen canned goods to pay for lunch. “You look like a forty four regular. Try that on.” Dan pushed the folded, insulated coveralls to Havers.

Havers picked up the bundle. Legs dropped, arms unfolded. He ran the zipper down the front. He kicked off his boots. “These fit, she’s yours.”

People gathered around. Havers slid first one leg, then the other into the coveralls. Arms next. The crowd grew quiet. Raiders gathered around Dan, hands slid to the butts of their guns. Havers ran the zipper closed. He grinned as tears filled his eyes. He reached under the counter, pulled up a set of keys.

“Take her,” he said as he pulled his boots back on.

Dan passed the keys to Jinks. She and Ella quickly went to the cage, unlocked it and hustled the girl out the door. They tossed Dan back the keys as they left. The bar was silent. From the cage, he heard Shel moan. He handed the keys back to Havers as he stood. He glanced at Cody, nodded to Bill. They watched the crowd.

“Hey.” Petey made his way forward. “You lettin’ ’em take Cherry, Havers?”

“They just bought her.”

“Fuck you. She’s my girlfriend.”

“For five cans, she’s anyone’s girlfriend.” Havers said. The bar laughed; not a happy sound.

Petey turned to Dan. His pencil thin arms were covered in tattoos. His clothes hung loose on his body. He had all his teeth, but they didn’t follow a straight line in his mouth. His upper lip had been split at one time and healed crooked. “I hear you’re Cap’n Death. You think you can walk in here and take what you want?”

Dan looked the man in the eye. He could feel Bill to his right side. Knew Cody was behind him. “I didn’t take her. She’s bought and paid for. You heard Havers.”

“C’mon Petey. Wear a rubber an’ we’ll put a gag in Shel. You can have her.” Someone laughed from the crowd.

“Fuck you. Fuck you all.”

“We’re leaving. Take up your complaint with Havers.”

“What if we say you ain’t goin’?” Petey picked up the .22 pistol from the bar. “You at least owe me nine shots on Shel. How ’bout I try my first one on you?”

The crowd stepped away. “What the hell is this? Tombstone?” Dan asked.

“I hear you’re real good with those…”

Dan didn’t give him a chance to finish. He drew with both hands. With his right, the sight came up. He squeezed a round. The big .45 boomed. A bullet sheared off the top of Petey’s ear and blasted past. His left hand centered the muzzle of his other .45 on Havers’ chest behind the counter.

“Don’t,” he warned the barman as he reached for a shotgun under the counter. Dan heard his troopers bring up rifles and click the guns off safe as the crowd pulled their stash guns.

Moans stopped from the cage. Shel fell forward with a wet slopping sound, like a gut bucket overturned from a hog butchering. The bullet had punched a hole in her forehead and blew black brains out the back of her skull. Petey grabbed what was left of his ear. Blood ran between his fingers as he cursed. Dan took a step sideways toward the door. His men moved with him, muzzles of their rifles covered the crowd. The door opened. Ella and Jinks marched the guards back inside.

“I don’t miss twice,” Dan said. “Put the gun back on the bar, or Havers will pick it up out of your dead hand.”

Petey complied as he tried to staunch the flow of blood. In a small square, Dan backed to the door with his troops. The girls had the horses waiting. Ella swung into the saddle behind Cherry, who was wrapped in a blanket. As they trotted into town Jinks covered the rear with her M-203.

“Thank you,” Cherry said in a quiet voice. “Thank you.” She leaned back into Ella’s arms. Both had tears in their eyes.

“Any time,” Dan said. He couldn’t look at them. He’d start to cry if he did.

Chapter 2

I’m getting better. I could have killed the asshole. Hell, last year I would have killed every last one of them and taken what I wanted from the coolers. I’m getting better. Jennifer would be proud of me. God I missed her. Now, I got no qualms about killing zeds. Self-preservation you know. Uninfected humans, now that’s another story. I’m trying to keep from killing them, even assholes like Petey, if I can. Sometimes I succeed. Today, it wasn’t worth the trouble. Plus, if we want to keep trading with these people, I don’t want to kill a whole slug of them. So Petey lives and I get another mouth to feed.

We clopped on down the pavement. There was one main road through town that all the side streets branched off of. Savanna is carved into the limestone bluffs along the Mississippi. The houses are built on flat spots cut into the rock. Old river town. Lot of trade used to come through here. Downtown is a block and less from the river itself. We came to the first checkpoint as we made a curve to get into the old shopping area. Guards, one with an SKS, the other with an AK-47, waved us to a stop.

“Creds,” the one with the SKS said. I handed him an I.D. issued by my brother Tom down on the Rock Island Arsenal. “Says here you’re Captain D. Death. Heard of you. Figured you’d be older.”

“An’ bigger,” the second added.

“Sorry to disappoint,” I said. They didn’t wave us through. “Problem, boys?”

“Why’s Cherry with you?” AK said.

“He bought me, Junk,” Cherry spoke up. Only her face was visible above the blanket. So far, she didn’t strike me as crazy.

“What’s the goin’ rate for a stripper these days?” SKS asked.

“Traded Havers a set of coveralls for her,” I said.

“That figures,” Junk grinned. “Bad as his arthritis is, he needs something to keep him warm. You got any more of them coveralls?” They eyed the pack saddles.

“Sorry, boys. Stud fees for the mares. We’re headed for Wally’s. Talk to him after we leave.”

Both chuckled as they opened the gate. “We’ve seen a lot of folks headed his way this spring. Hope them studs of his ain’t too wore out,” Junk said.

They passed us through the gates, gave us directions and wished us luck. We kept on through town. People that lived here used the natural defenses to keep the zeds out. Rock walls at least seven feet high were topped with barbwire crawling up the hill. I assumed it went along a street a few blocks up the hill. The wall ended at the edge of the water. I’d heard of zombies walking along the bottom of lakes to get to the other side, or to an island where people were staying, but not on the Mississippi. Old Muddy had too strong of a current and too much silt on the bottom. Some places you can barely swim in it, let alone a corpse walk the bottom. Worst they had to worry about here was river pirates. But something told me those jokers were good for business, as long as they didn’t get out of hand, or raid here.