Zombie Rules (21 page)

             
I shrugged one shoulder. “Macie can’t help it that she fell in love with someone else. It hurt, sure. It hurt like hell, but I’m over it.”

             
“But what about Jason? He beat you up.” She said.

             
I laughed without pleasure. “I swung at him first, remember? I lost fair and square. It’s the other one I have an issue with. If Darius shows up, I don’t know. I doubt it will be pleasant.”

             
Julie moved from behind me and refilled our mugs before sitting back down. “Are you going to kill him too?”

             
“I don’t know. I don’t like him, but I don’t know.”

             
“Why would you help them?” She asked. She was looking at me somberly.

             
“My logic for helping them is a little complicated.” I said.

             
She grinned. “So try me.”

             
I grinned back. “Okay, I’ll try. Think of it from this perspective. It all centers on the collapse of our society. It is up to the survivors to rebuild. Old grudges and differences of opinion should be set aside. It is essential for people to work together. If everyone pitches in, we can slowly rebuild our civilization. Or, if we don’t, we’ll quickly revert back to how we lived a few thousand years ago. It’s up to people like you and me, Julie. Everyone we come into contact with, we have to try. Otherwise, mankind is more than likely doomed.” I took a few sips.

             
“Here I go rambling on again. The first thing we need to do is maintain a suitable life for ourselves. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and, I’ve got some training for you. Come on, you’re helping out. No Xbox for you today.”

             
Her mouth fell open. “Oh, you smart ass.” I got up and Julie smacked me on the butt as I walked away. I jumped and she giggled. I couldn’t help but grin. I’d been doing a lot of grinning lately. It felt good.

             
We finished up the day in the barn. I had cleared off one of the work benches and had all of our weapons lain out. “I think I remember you saying you’ve shot a gun before.”

             
“Yeah, I had a boyfriend who liked to skeet shoot with his father. I tried it out a few times.”

             
“Boyfriend huh, did he survive?” I asked.

             
She shrugged. “We had broken up about a month before the outbreak. I never saw him at the school gym, so I honestly don’t know. It wasn’t anything serious.” She picked up a pistol and aimed at an imaginary target. “How many people do you think survived?”

             
“It’s difficult to make an accurate estimate. There are a lot of variables to consider. If it is a one in six survival ratio, that’s a little over one billion worldwide. One in ten ratio, about six hundred million. You get the idea.”

             
“And then there are the zombies.” She added.

             
“Yeah, the zombies are a major variable. A lot of people are going to be killed because of this plague and the ensuing chaos. I’ve got a working theory about the zombies, but right now I’m going to teach you about firearms. Let’s get started.”

I spent the next two hours going over the various firearms in our inventory. We started with the shotguns, which she already knew the basics of.

              “The twelve-gauge is a natural man killer. There are larger bores like the ten gauge, eight gauge, and I believe there is even a four gauge, but those are meant to be used on large game. We don’t have any of those, so don’t worry about them. This one here,” I picked up a shotgun. “Is a Remington, model 870 twelve gauge shotgun.” I pointed to another shotgun. “His brother here is a Remington model 1100. The 870 has a pump action, see?” I demonstrated and worked the action. “The 1100 is a semiautomatic. That’s the only real difference. Both of them are twelve-gauge.” I continued with each weapon, going over the advantages and limitations of each.

             
Julie bit her lip. “I hope I can remember all of this.” She said.

             
“Don’t worry. I’m going to be repeating all of this info over and over until I’m blue in the face and you’re sick of hearing it, but you’ll have it all memorized before I’m done. Now I’m going to show you how to break each one of them down and how to properly clean them.” I spent the next two hours going over three weapons, the 870 shotgun, the AR-15, and the Glock model 23. I only worked with her on those three because I wanted her to be proficient in as short a time as possible.

             
“Where did you learn all of this from?” She asked.

             
I smiled. “From Rick. He taught me the exact same way I’m teaching you. The man is amazing.”

             
“When he gets back, is he going to be okay with me being here?” Julie asked. “I mean, he seemed ready to kill all of us the last time I saw him. He was really mad.”

I missed the man. I had to be careful or I was going to tear up. “I’m betting he already knows you’re here. It’ll be fine.”

              “I hope so. I’m starting to like it here.” I looked over at her. She just smiled and continued scrubbing the AR-15’s bolt. We eventually finished cleaning all of them. It had taken the rest of the afternoon and the sun was setting. I finished with showing her how to load and fire the AR-15.

             
“This one is sighted in at one hundred yards. Let’s take a walk outside.” We walked in front of the house. It was on a hill overlooking the creek, bridge, and roadway.

             
“How far is the bridge from here?” I asked.

             
“Um, one hundred yards?” She scrunched her eyes up as she guessed.

             
I grunted. “Two hundred. So if you aim at someone on the bridge, when you look through the scope you aim one mil higher. Try it out. Do you see the little dot?”

             
She held the rifle up and squinted into the ACOG scope. “Yeah.”

             
“OK, good. Now, look at the bridge and the area immediately around the bridge. What do you see?”

             
“You’ve got some fence poles and barb wire strung up on the far side of the creek, and you have the backhoe blocking it on the other side. Can’t people just wade through the creek?”

             
“It runs about six to eight feet deep. Plus, right now the water is really cold and the banks are slick. It would be very difficult. Rick has also rigged up some booby traps in the creek bed. Anyone walking through there will get their foot impaled on a sharpened spike. What else do you see?” She squinted but came up with nothing. “Look at the tree limbs. See the various white strips of cloth tied to the limbs?” She nodded. “They give you an indication of your wind currents.”

             
“You guys put them there on purpose. For adjusting your aim, right?” I nodded. “I know what that’s called, Kentucky-windage, right?” She asked.

             
“Exactly.” I replied.

             
“You guys have really thought this all out.”

             
“When we go inside, I’m going to teach you the purpose of the range cards we have beside each window as well.” I said.

             
“After dinner I hope. Can we take showers tonight?”

             
I thought about it and shrugged. “We have laundry to do as well, so we’ll have the generator going anyway.” At this, Julie put her arm through mine and hugged herself against me. And yes, I felt her breasts press against my arm. At least, I believed I did.

We both lapsed into a comfortable silence and stood there admiring the sunset the way romantic couples do. Our reverie was broken when I heard the sound of crunching gravel. A car was approaching. I was pretty sure I knew who was coming. “Here, take the rifle and crouch down behind the truck. If it’s who I think it is, I don’t want them to see you.” I reached into the cab of the truck and retrieved the binoculars. It was a black sedan and there were two people in it. It approached very slowly, as if the driver was uncertain what awaited them. “Do they have a black four-door? Maybe a Dodge
Stratus, or something like it?”

             
“Yeah, Jason has one.” She said.

             
I nodded knowingly. I knew they would show up eventually, especially after everything Julie told me about their living situation. My estimation was off though. I thought it would be at least two more days before they got up the nerve. The car stopped in front of the concertina. A short time later Macie exited from the passenger side. I did not recognize her at first. Her facial features were drawn and stringy hair peeked out of a soiled stocking knit cap. She looked around and approached the wire. There was no way I could stop her in time if she tried to climb over it. Thankfully, she stopped a few feet away and started waving a white rag.

             
How quaint.

             
I set the binoculars down and spoke to Julie. “I’m going to go down there. Watch my back, if there’s trouble, start shooting.” She was looking up at me now. “You remember how to lock and load, and take the safety off?”

             
She performed the actions in front of me. “Like that?”

             
I nodded in satisfaction. “Yeah. Now here’s another quick training lesson. There are hand signals Rick and I use. There are only two I need you to know right now. If I raise my hands like I’m surrendering, it means my life is in danger. If I have my hands down and cross my hands behind my back like this,” I demonstrated with my palms out and crossing my hands behind my back a couple of times like I was trying to wave away a smelly fart. It was a signal from some old warrior poetry, Keats or Kipling I believe. One thing was for certain, none of them read poetry, not even Macie. “Okay, if I make this signal, it means all is well and to hold your fire. Got it?”

             
“Yeah, okay. Zach?” She looked concerned. “Be careful, and come back to me, please.” She said.

             
“You got it.” On a sudden impulse I bent down and kissed her on the top of the head. Why did I kiss her on the top of her head? I knew damn good and well I was dying to kiss her on the lips. I sighed as I walked away. It was a lot easier when it was just Rick and me. With Rick, there was no kissing under any circumstances.

             
I did a quick press check of my Glock and put it in my jacket pocket. I was going to keep my hand on it and shoot them through my jacket if I had to. Rick had some cases of Army rations called MREs, or Meal, Ready to Eat. I hated them, and swore I would only eat them if I were on the brink of starvation. I retrieved two cases and put them on the back of the ATV. Macie waved the white rag again as I approached.

             
I parked the ATV on the opposite side of the concertina wire, and sat there a minute looking them over. They were certainly a sorry looking pair. Their clothes were looking rough and stained. It was hard to see their physiques because they were both wearing loose fitting heavy clothing, but their faces were thin and drawn. Their car did not look much better. The windshield was cracked in a starburst pattern and there appeared to be hair and small pieces of flesh embedded in the cracks. The hood was dented also, along with a broken headlight.

             
“Hello Macie.” I said lightly. She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater which, like the jeans she was wearing, had gone a few days without being washed. I noticed a small bulge to her tummy, but otherwise she looked emaciated. Like one of those anorexic runway models. Or maybe one of those starving African kids with distended bellies they show on late night TV commercials. She was still beautiful though.

             
Jason was standing beside the car when I drove up.

             
As I spoke to her, he walked over beside her and put an arm around her possessively. He still had his height and broad shoulders, but his neck was now ultrathin and his once handsome face was pockmarked with blackheads. I could not see his ribs, but I bet they were poking through. He had bloodshot eyes also. I could not tell if he was sick or had been smoking marijuana. Dirty jeans and roughly scuffed boots completed his ensemble. He may have been armed, but if he was, it was in the car or hidden under his clothing.

             
Macie started the conversation. “Hello Zach. I know we’re probably the last people that you want to see.”

             
“And yet this knowledge did not stop the two of you from showing up anyway. What happened to your car? I asked.

             
Jason spoke up. “One of those zombie creatures ran out in the roadway. I ran his ass over.” He smirked, like it was some kind of amazing feat. I remembered that smirk.

             
I nodded, but said nothing. An awkward silence ensued for several seconds. Well, it wasn’t awkward for me. I guess they thought I would be interested in hearing the story of the mighty Jason Argos smiting an evil zombie. Not.