Authors: Brian P. White
The Death Doll (8 page)
“That seems fair,” Cody said. “Come on, Rachelle.”
“Hold on, there,” the tubby one said. “You busted in on us. Maybe you should leave us some consolation, like that there li’l ‘un?”
Fear shot through Rachelle as the redneck assholes sized her up like—she didn’t even want to go there. They would not put their filthy hands on her, no matter how scared she was.
Didi sauntered past her and stopped in front of Pat, who planted the barrel against her forehead. “How ‘bout me, big boy?”
When Pat stole a confused glance at his tubby friend, Didi grabbed the rifle, smacked his friend’s fat face with it, and kicked Pat squarely in the nose, flooring both in one deft move. Then she smiled back at Rachelle. “See? Follow-through.”
Badass!
Didi tossed the rifle at Pat’s chest without even bothering to empty it and smiled down at them. Cody maintained his aim.
The bewildered bubbas scrambled to their feet with their guns up. A tense silence followed, but Didi looked as composed as ever. How did she do it?
The calm broke when Pat laughed and lowered his rifle. The tubby one gave Pat a movie-style double take, then lowered his shotgun and chuckled along. Cody did the same.
Rachelle let out a breath she’d been holding. She needed to stop doing that.
“I like you folks,” Pat said through his laughter as he strapped his rifle over his shoulder and shook Didi’s hand. “I’m Pat Williams. This is my friend, Clay Boatwright.”
“You got the boat part right,” Rachelle said, still quivering from the adrenaline rush.
Pat’s smile diminished as he released Didi’s hand. “Now that the guns are down, li’l ‘un, you ought to consider being a might friendlier.”
“So long as it’s not the kind of friendly your pal was hinting at,” Cody calmly warned them, then shook the men’s hands and pointed around. “Cody, Didi, Rachelle. Where are you from?”
“Alabama,” Pat said. “It got pretty heavy there, so we took to the open road. Y’all?”
“Varied,” Didi said. “Why’d you come up north?”
Clay slung his shotgun behind his back. “Couldn’t get through Mi’ssippi. The roads ‘uz clogged, and there’s too many of them rotten sumbitches wanderin’ the woods.”
“We ended up in Indiana,” Pat cut in, “but things there ‘uz crazier than anything, talkin’ ‘bout some ‘Death Doll’ hauntin’ the area or somethin’.”
“Death Doll?” Rachelle parroted, which got her a surprised look from Didi and Cody. “I heard Jake and the others talking about it. I thought they were kidding.”
Pat scoffed. “I didn’t buy it. Country don’t mean fool.”
Rachelle looked to Didi for answers but found her mentor’s eyes on the good old boys. She couldn’t tell if Didi was pissed or if she had gone up against this Death Doll before.
“Do you have a vehicle?” Cody asked.
Pat exchanged glances with Clay. “Say we don’t.”
Cody nodded. “We’re heading home now. You’re welcome to come with us if you want.”
Pat’s cavalier grin never left, but his eyes measured Didi carefully. Or maybe he was just checking her out. Either way, he nodded. “Mighty nice of you. We accept.”
Rachelle didn’t like this one bit, but she had to believe her mentors knew what they were doing.
ANTICIPATION
Jerri entered the projection booth and found her beloved Xing sleeping on the job. Several naughty ways to wake him crossed her mind. She loved his forward thinking mind and youthful exuberance, which energized her in ways she never thought possible. They shared their lives, their languages, and the hopes for their children’s futures. That second one was so damned hard, but it was worth it. Every day brought them something new, and she never wanted to lose that.
Oh, how hard her late fiancé Eric would laugh if he could see her married to a Chinese man half her age—if he didn’t lash out in a jealous rage. Of course, that beer-guzzling bigot showed so little interest in anything outside of racing, she swore he wanted to marry her for free lifetime admission to her family’s race track. Sure, he kept her alive after, but at the cost of her brother.
She knelt behind her love and gently blew on the back of his ear, which startled him awake. She backed up and watched him flail about, trying hard not to laugh aloud.
He laid reproachful eyes on her, but that quickly gave way to joy. He kissed her passionately and she melted against him. Despite swearing off more children after bearing triplets, his kisses always made her reconsider.
Xing gave her his beautiful Chinese greeting. Still learning, she struggled to give her reply and had to laugh at her failure. Even mimicking was hard.
“It’s coming along,” he said sweetly with his near-perfect Midwestern accent as he stroked her face. “What’s up?”
She sighed and laid her chin on his knee, hugging his leg. “It’s just been a morning. Jake and his friends ganged up on that new kid Pepe.”
“Was he hurt?” he asked as he softly raked his fingers through her hair.
“Not too badly. That guy Isaac came in and smacked them all down.”
Xing snickered. “I’ll bet Craig won’t be happy about that.”
“Actually, he walked in on it and let it happen. He said Jake wasn’t listening to reason.”
“Good thing Didi wasn’t there, then. She would’ve nailed Isaac to the wall with her sword. Tell me again why she’s in charge?”
The words burned in her mouth. She swore never to keep things from him, but she had to keep Didi’s secret for the good of the camp. She knew he would tell everyone and get them killed. She cursed the day she walked in on Didi and Craig.
“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked.
She struggled to speak as she looked up into his beautiful brown eyes. He was about to press her again when his radio crackled to life.
*****
This Creole motherfucker’s definitely from a whole other world
, Isaac thought. Despite looking like he spent all day blasted on whatever there was to smoke around here, Ben was clearly a hard worker. The scraggly-bearded plumber knew every inch of the compound and treated it better than he treated himself.
Craig seemed fascinated by Ben in some way or another, or maybe just amused.
“Y’all built this from scratch?” Isaac asked.
Ben replied while wagging his wrench at Isaac without missing a step. “Stripped buildings all over town to get it, and don’t tink any of dat was easy. It only needs a look whenever ya come down ‘ere. If ya see a leak or the walls turn to mud, come get me. And I wouldn’t mind a ‘and with a pipe or two from time to time.”
Isaac wasn’t about to be no damn plumber’s assistant. He needed a way out. “Y’all going out for more pipes and shit soon?”
Craig grinned sideways. “Why? Are you volunteering?”
Isaac shrugged. “Beats spending every minute in the damn Power.”
Craig laughed. “That’s why we have such flexible shifts. Besides, only Didi and Cody say who goes, and they only take people they trust.”
“Which was a kid, last I heard.”
Craig stopped in front of Isaac and said, “Hey, that kid—” but stopped and looked past him and Ben. Isaac turned around and saw Jerri running up to them.
*****
Didi stared at the two ‘Bama bubbas in the back. The fat one rubbed his hands together—
they’re called gloves for a reason
, she thought—while the skinny one just enjoyed the ride. Something about them didn’t sit well with her at all, but she knew hers wasn’t to judge; only to observe and act when necessary.
“They look like trouble to me,” Rachelle said. “What do you think, Didi?”
Didi faced forward and shrugged. “What do I know? I’m just the muscle.”
“You know you’re more than that,” Cody said with a flash of a grin at her.
She smirked at him. “You sweet talker you.”
Rachelle frowned between them. “So, what’s with all the computer stuff back there?”
“Ongoing project,” Cody said.
Rachelle rolled her eyes. “You guys and your secrets. Hey, do you buy that whole the Death Doll thing?”
Didi froze, staring at the dashboard as if an answer would appear there. Cody’s silence didn’t help, either. He did bring this up the other night. Perhaps it was time after all.
“What?” Rachelle asked, glancing between the two.
Didi steeled herself and faced her pupil. “I want to tell you a secret.”
*****
“How’s that thing there?” Pat asked.
Clay pulled his sleeve cuff over the rash spreading around his wrist, then continued rubbing at it over the cloth. “I told you it’s nothin’.”
“As long as it don’t get in the way,” Pat reminded his old friend.
Clay flipped him off.
Pat knew it wasn’t worth fighting over. They took care of the ones responsible anyway, and these three kids were none the wiser. He just watched the town get closer.
“Hey, don’t that one chick look familiar?” Clay asked with a nod at the cabin.
Pat took a look inside, but barely saw the chick’s face. She was having some kind of pow-wow with her little follower. She was a four-alarm fire, even if she had no titties, but there was something oddly familiar about her. Then the young one in the backseat scooted herself toward her side window behind the driver. The chick looked a little broken up about it, but faced forward and didn’t turn again. Pat wondered what that was all about, but he shrugged it off. “Don’t really matter, does it?”
Clay snickered and blew into his hands. “Guess not. Too bad, though.”
Pat nodded in agreement. The things he could do to that biker-looking chick would shame his mama, but he let those thoughts go. He knew the spoils weren’t his to claim. Yet.
The kid kept hugging her door like she needed out of there. Dissention in the ranks, maybe. That would be helpful.
The truck stopped by a theater with wooden walls stretching between it and the other buildings on the block. The girl jumped out and ran to the front door, banging on it like she wanted to break it down. The chick and her fellow stood by their doors and sullenly watched the girl run in without looking back. Some big blond guy stepped out and took the truck keys from the dude. The chick drooped on her way into the theater.
“She’ll be alright,” the dude said, then waved Pat and Clay toward the open door. “Come in if you’re coming in.”
Pat smiled at Clay and hopped out of the truck bed. This was going to be fun.
BLOOD RED CARPET
Paula couldn’t help but worry when Rachelle tearfully ran through the theater lobby, slamming the alley door shut behind her. She remembered Clarissa’s fiancé had supposedly acted like that right before he committed suicide. She wanted to follow but didn’t want to get her head bitten off for trying to help again. She didn’t know how to talk to that girl.
Didi and Cody entered with two denim-clad newcomers in cowboy hats. The
dame macabre
led them toward Isolation with her usual spiel, sans that perpetual carefree verve.
Her speech was cut off by the skinnier man with the black horseshoe mustache. “Whoa, hold up there, honey. What do you mean three days?”
Didi stopped and faced him with a darkly foreboding grin. “First of all, I’m not your honey. Second, as I was saying, you’ll stay here for three days until we determine whether or not you’re safe to join the community.”
“Safe from what?” the bigger one bellowed. “Who’re you to tell us where we’ll be stayin’?”
“She’s the boss,” Cody said as he entered, holding his pistol in one hand. “Isn’t that right, Didi?”
Didi nodded to Cody and faced the surly newcomers.
The overweight one stared past Paula with disgust. “Aw, Pat, they got niggers in here. I thought this area didn’t have any.”
Paula nearly ended up on the ground as Isaac pushed past her and Sean. “The fuck you just say, peckerwood?” he snapped as Sean, Pepe, and Cody quickly restrained him.
The skinnier Pat stood between his crude friend and the enraged thug. “You have to forgive my old friend, here,” Pat said. “It’s been a while since he’s seen a …” His smug grin widened as he sought a more polite synonym for the horrible slight his pudgy friend threw out. “Well, I’m sure we can overlook this li’l incident with a nice apology. Can’t we, Clay?”
The pudgy Clay looked at Pat like he was crazy, but he soon lightened the disdain on his face and threw Isaac a half-hearted, “Sorry.”
Isaac stared down the inconsiderate Clay but made no further attempt to advance.
“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Didi said firmly, her signature grin long gone. “We all respect each other here, no matter what. Clear?”
Pat and Clay beheld Didi like she had just spoken out of place. The skinnier one donned the kind of grin that was both amused and offended, then he and his obese friend circled Didi like sharks. “Well, now, I guess that’s that, then. The big boss has spoken. Hey, why do they call you Didi, baby? You don’t look like no double-D.”
Clay laughed with his friend. Paula wanted to rip out the misogynists’ eyes.
Didi’s grin returned. “No, though I used to be.”
“Really?” the larger one asked. “What happened to them?”
“I cut them off,” Didi snapped, her grin long gone again.
Pat laughed, “Woo-hoo, we got us a real badass.”
“I’m all a-shiver,” Clay added condescendingly.
Paula couldn’t believe Didi let these two disgusting vultures circle her like this, but the pale woman didn’t shake a bit.
Then Clay stopped and pointed at Didi with wide eyes. “
Baby Dahl
,” he bellowed, which drew a look of pure dread from Cody and the first hint of surprise Didi displayed since Paula arrived.
“Come again?” Pat asked.
“That’s where I know her from,” Clay said as he faced Pat. “She’s that porn star, Baby Dahl, from your daddy’s orgy video.”
All eyes fell on Didi, who scowled at the floor with her jaw clenched.
Paula certainly didn’t expect to hear such a thing and didn’t know what to make of it, so all she could do was gauge the others’ reactions. Sean and Pepe faced each other in shock. Isaac glanced up and down the starlet like a rotten piece of meat he had once considered tasty. The Panel didn’t look at all surprised, but nervous. Was this their big secret beyond this whole Death Doll persona? Was Pepe right about her sleeping around? So many more questions flooded her brain, including what the outed slut would do next.
Pat wolf-whistled Didi. “Baby Dahl. Yeah, I remember you now. You did have a big ol’ set on you back then, didn’t you?”
“That’s enough, gentlemen,” Cody said, still clenching his pistol grip.
Pat threw a cautionary finger at Cody, his other hand clutching the strap of his rifle. “You just hold on a might, son. We ain’t talkin’ to you.”
“You’d be better off talking to him right now,” Didi said with a cold fury. Paula found herself a little surprised the former starlet hadn’t started swinging that sword already.
“Oh, come on, Baby Dahl,” Clay said as he placed a hand on Didi’s leather-clad shoulder. “We’re just getting to know—”
Didi grabbed Clay’s hand and wrenched his arm behind him, making the fat misogynist scream. He unslung his shotgun, but dropped it and hollered in pain.
Pat quickly swung his rifle into his hands. Cody placed his pistol directly onto Pat’s head, and the cowboy froze.
“Don’t think for a second that fucking a bunch of people on camera then makes me a pushover now, asshole,” Didi coldly warned him, then made him apologize three times before she accepted it. He grunted the entire time, then grunted more when she yanked his arm up further, her eyes focused on his wrist. “You were bitten.”
Clay denied it through his painful grunts, but Didi glared at him and rebuffed his denial.
Pat dropped his rifle, yanked his tubby friend free, and pulled him away from Didi. “You heard him. I’ve known Clay for years and he ain’t no liar. If he says he ain’t bit, he ain’t bit.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind proving it in Isolation over the next three days,” Cody said as Bob quietly picked up Pat’s rifle and backed away.
“We ain’t gettin’ locked up nowhere,” Clay yelled.
Paula held her breath.
Didi’s never-blinking gaze softened into one of sympathy as she slowly approached the rude newcomers. She stopped before Clay and placed a gentle hand on his forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
Everyone in the room gawked at her like she had surrendered the keys to her kingdom.
Clay frowned at his skinny friend while Didi placed that same hand upon his big belly, then on each shoulder in what Paula realized was some kind of Catholic cross. He started to speak when—
Didi suddenly drew her sword and decapitated him in one fluid motion.
Everyone recoiled as the head and body fell separately, its two parts spilling blood all over the small octagonal tiles. Horrified beyond belief, Paula and her husband watched Didi return her blade to its sheath and stand at Cody’s side like nothing happened.
“
What in the hell did you do that for
?” Pat shouted.
“He was infected,” Didi said.
“It was a nick.”
“A nick becomes a fever before long, and he would’ve eaten your face off your head.”
Pat moved forward to continue arguing until Cody pulled the hammer of his pistol back. The skinny survivor stopped dead in his tracks.
“The choice is still yours,” Cody said. “You can stay or you can go, but if you stay you do things our way, starting with three days in Isolation. What’s it going to be?”
Didi opened the Isolation door and waited.
Pat locked eyes with each person in the room, regarded his late friend’s body, and entered Isolation. Cody closed and locked the door.
Didi whispered something to Cody, who nodded to her and left through the alley door. Didi locked eyes with Paula and departed through a different door.
Bob grimly picked up the shotgun and slung it behind him, making it clatter against Pat’s rifle. “Didi will take care of the body. We’ll clean up after.”
The defeat in his voice shook Paula to the core. She had no idea how Sean was going to get through to either one of them—or when Isaac had disappeared.
*****
Craig crossed the Courtyard and went into the theater without looking back. When the coast was clear, Isaac slipped out of his hiding place and rushed into the Garage.
The Ford sat unguarded in the middle of the bay. Only two things stood between him and freedom: the truck’s ignition and the garage door. Neither would pose a problem.
Isaac ran up to the truck and searched all around for a set of spare keys. When he found none, he checked the door to make sure he was still alone and slipped into the cabin. He got under the wheel to find the right wires to cross.
Something pelted the side of his head, startling him to the point of hitting his forehead on the wheel. He slipped out of the cabin and found Didi lingering in the passenger window.
“Those work better,” she said as she pointed to the keys lying near the gas pedal.
Isaac searched the Garage for whoever else might ambush him, but it was just Didi and that daring grin of hers.
She rounded the truck bed, walking slowly without taking her eyes off of him. “Where are you off to?”
He stood his ground, waiting to dodge whatever she might throw or swing at him. “You going to chop off my head now?”
“Why should I? You want to leave? Leave. You think you deserve our truck more than we do? Take it. We’ll find another one.”
Isaac recoiled. “What are you playing at?”
She stopped a few feet from him, looking all calm with her hands behind her back. “We give life a chance; nothing more. What’s wrong with what we’ve got here?”
Isaac touched his neck wrap. “I’d tell you, but my throat’s a little sore.”
Didi laughed and shook her head. “You’re worried about little old me? I only protect this camp from whatever threatens it, which includes people going stir crazy. It would be easier and safer just to let you go. I’ll even give you some food.”
“Yeah, sure, and cut off my head when I turn my back. Isn’t that how you did the Apocalypse Crew? Death Doll?”
That wiped the smile off her face, then she grabbed her sword handle. The threatened look in her unblinking eyes made him miss her condescending grin. “So, you know.”
“Shit, everybody here knows. They’re just too scared to say.”
She stared him down like a vulture, not moving an inch. “Is that why you’re running?”
“Bitch, I ain’t afraid of you,” he lied with a whole lot of attitude, even daring to step forward. “You know, I almost ran into you once back in Chicago. My crew cleared out Cellular Field after you ripped up the Reapers. What, the Apocalypse Crew wasn’t enough?”
She held his gaze for a very long moment, during which he tried not to squirm. He wasn’t going to beg or anything, but the longer he waited for her to do something the more likely he thought she would chop his head off anyway. Finally, her scowl faded and she calmly said, “What I did to the Apocalypse Crew has nothing to do with what’s going on here, and it won’t so long as everyone keeps their heads.”
“Which they’ll lose if they don’t play by your rules, right?”
To Isaac’s surprise, a smile crossed Didi’s face. “You don’t understand me at all, and I really don’t know where you come off judging me after I saved your ass. I never asked for anything in return and I never held it over you.”
“No, you just tell me what to do and I’m supposed to follow.”
“Only if you stay here, and for good reason. Idle people do stupid shit and get other people killed. I won’t let anything or anyone threaten a single life in this camp, not even their fears.”
“Then you’re the one who should leave because they’re all just afraid of you.”
Her grin widened as she pulled something from her jacket and aimed it at the garage door, which slid open. “If you feel that strongly about it, you know where the keys are,” she said, then walked out the Courtyard door like nothing happened. “It’s not like anyone here matters to you.”
Despite her parting jab, Isaac jumped in the truck. He started it up and put it into gear, but for some reason, he couldn’t take his foot off the brake. He should’ve floored the gas and headed for San Francisco like he originally planned. So, why wasn’t he? Was it the food? That was really good food. It couldn’t have been the people; all they ever did was annoy him. Okay, Craig did help him after Didi almost ripped his throat out, but he damn sure wasn’t staying for that whiny Paula, no matter what he accidentally did to her house.
A zombie walked into the garage. Isaac prepared to let off the break and run the sucker over, but he didn’t want to risk damaging the truck. He turned off the engine, rushed over to one of the workbenches, and grabbed a screwdriver. The thing reached for him until he jabbed its head. It collapsed at his feet.
No other face-munchers came, but that would change if he left that door open. All those kids would be dead, and it would’ve been his fault. He wasn’t going to be the punk that let that happen. Not again.
He rushed to the chains and yanked at them until the giant door closed. He stood there staring at the way out like a chump. Again.
