The Jack Zombie Collection: Volume 1, page 49
Norm snorts.
Behind him, I see Darlene grinning. I wonder why, but then it hits me, almost harder than Norm’s playful punches, and I start to feel like a royal asshole.
“Look at that!” Norm howls. “Jack Jupiter, bossing us around. I love it!” He cups one hand around his mouth and yells, “Oh, Herbie! Time to go!”
Yeah, right. Me, a boss.
Herb’s rumbling steps dart across the living room and he bangs the door open, causing Darlene to move out of the way. Still, she’s smiling.
“Really? What, are we playin?” Herb asks.
“No, big fella, just needed to pry you away from Margie’s cookie jar,” Norm says.
“Oh, not nice, Norm!” Herb says, then he swipes away smeared chocolate at the corner of his mouth with the back of one mammoth hand. “Not nice at all.”
We move from the porch to the beaten dirt and rock path and head out to see Abby, our hearts and smiles lifted. I drop back away from the three of them, taking a mental image of the people who are closest to me, thinking, Man, I really hope nothing goes wrong in D.C.
27
Abby is up when we walk into the med center. Brittney sits at the desk, looking the same as she did the other times we saw her in here, happy, bright-faced, reading a fantasy paperback.
Phyllis’s shadow can be seen through the veil surrounding the patient next to Abby’s bed, one of the men or women who suffered injuries during last evening’s attack. I hear the person cough and Phyllis say, “It’s going to be okay, just rest,” in a soothing voice.
The curtains part, rattling along the metal bar dividing the room, and out steps Phyllis. She is wearing the part of doctor much better today. The white lab coat, the glasses on a chain, the slicked-back ponytail, and in her hands is a clipboard. She is looking down at it as she almost crashes into Herb’s broad chest.
“Oh,” she says. “Hello, all. Unfortunately, visiting hours are only from — ”
“Oh, stop it!” Brittney shouts from the front room. “Let them see their friend!”
Phyllis puts on a fake smile. “Well, I guess you can as long as you make it quick. The funeral is about to start and I can’t leave you in here with all my equipment and medicine — ” She chuckles. “Actually, there’s not much of either anymore.”
Norm pats her on the shoulder. “No need to worry, the Great Jack Jupiter is going to fix that for you.”
“I heard,” Phyllis says, still smiling, still fake. “Mighty brave of you.” Then with all the feigned enthusiasm of an old housewife shaking a veteran’s hand, she says, “Thank you for your service.”
I roll my eyes. “Cut the crap. How’s Abby doing?”
Now Phyllis is smiling for real. “See for yourself,” she says.
We do. Darlene is the first one to walk over to Abby’s ‘room’ and part the curtains.
My chest swells with excitement as I see Abby lying there, her head propped on a pillow, a somber smile on her face. “Took you long enough,” she says. “You guys are too polite. If it were one of you in here and me out there, I would’ve kicked the door down and ripped the curtains off their rod.”
“Abby!” Herb says. He rushes over to her and hugs the right side of her body, the side with a full arm.
“How ya doing, kid?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I’ve been better. I’ve been a helluva lot better.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Norm says. He walks over to where Herb is kneeling. “I’m glad you’re still alive.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” Abby says. She looks at me. “Thank you, Jack. Seriously. I remember it all like a hazy dream. The bastard came down on me, I thought I got him, but I slipped in the mud. Of all things that got me in the end, it was the damn earth.”
“I thought we lost you. It wasn’t just me. There was a man from here who helped, too. He was the one who — ” I point at her wrapped stump and seeing it is almost physically painful for me. “He was the one who did that.”
“He had to,” Abby says, bringing the arm up and examining it. “I understand that. I’m lucky to be alive, lucky not to be a zombie.”
Darlene’s face is wet, she wipes fresh tears away. “Yeah, you are.” And she hugs Abby around the shoulders.
Abby groans. “Easy there,” she says, grimacing.
I pull Darlene off of her. “Don’t wanna her hurt anymore than she already is.”
“I’m all right,” Abby says. “Don’t want to puke though.”
Darlene chuckles. “I missed you.”
“It’s only been a day,” Abby says.
“Felt like a lifetime,” Darlene says.
“Yeah,” Herb says. “Thought I’d never get to see you again, Abby.”
Abby looks to me, rolling her eyes like a girl almost in her twenties would do. I think she’s thinks I’m going to back her up. I don’t. Instead, I shrug and say, “They’re right, it did feel like a long time.”
“Puke,” Abby says, shaking her head. “Norm?”
“I’m sorry, Abby,” Norm says, “but I gotta agree. We were all worried.”
“Yeah, Norm gets extra douchey when he’s worried,” Darlene says.
“Amen,” I say.
“Real nice, guys,” Norm says.
The doctor comes in and clears her throat. “Uh, excuse me, I think it would be best to let Abby rest. The funeral is starting in ten minutes and I really don’t want to show up dressed like this.” Phyllis motions to her outfit.
I give her a nod. “Okay, guys, let’s pack it up and get out of here.”
“Thank God,” Abby says. She fakes a yawn.
Everyone leans down and gives her a hug. Darlene kisses her on the cheek while Abby makes a disgusted face.
As we turn to leave, Abby calls for me. “Jack?”
I stop and motion everyone to keep going. “Yeah?” I say.
Phyllis is the last one to clear the room, letting out an exasperated sigh. Whatever, I think, sigh all you want.
“I hear you’re going with these people on a mission to D.C.,” she says.
I nod.
“You think you’ll be okay?”
I nod again. I hope I’ll be okay.
“I mean, without us and all. We have a pretty good team dynamic. Don’t want to mess that up…” Her eyes drift toward her bandaged hand. “Actually, probably not anymore.”
I grab her good hand and say, “Abby, you will still be the meanest, roughest, toughest son-of-a-bitch, zombie-slaying expert in what’s left of this broken world. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine and you’ll be fine. I’ll go get whatever the doctor needs to help you and I’ll find Doc Klein and get him whatever he needs to save this world.”
“Jack…you can’t do it all.”
“Watch me,” I say, and I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. “Get better, Abby. I’ll see you soon.”
28
After the funeral, the sun is high in the sky and it is no longer chilly outside. The wind blows and it’ll bite you, but otherwise you wouldn’t know that winter is barely in the rearview. You would think summer might happen tomorrow.
I am walking to the armory with Jacob. Darlene shouts out behind me. “Jack!” she says. “Wait up.”
We have already said bye to each other, careful not to make it goodbye because Darlene says that’s forever and that’s not going to happen. Though, we both feel like there’s a chance it is goodbye.
The armory is already in sight. Jacob says, “I’ll just go ahead without ya,” smiling. Then he leaves.
Darlene jogs to me and jumps in my arms. “I needed another kiss. I’m sorry — it’s just — ”
“Don’t apologize,” I say. And I kiss her.
We part looking into each other’s eyes, trying to hide the sadness with smiles.
The group is waiting for me as I enter the armory. The first thing I notice is not the array of weapons and ammunition, but their faces. There is four of them. The only ones I recognize are Grady and Jacob. The others are young men. Jacob is the oldest of the bunch, with his gray, bushy beard and many wrinkles on his brow. They are smiling. One of the younger guys nudges the man next to him.
“Girls,” he says, then he gives me a wink.
“Gentlemen,” Grady says, walking toward me. “This is Jack Jupiter. Jack, this is the boys.”
The two men nod. They look oddly similar. Like they could be —
“The fellows to your left are the Garfunkel twins. The one with the beard is Billy and the other one with the cigarette is Sean — Sean, what I tell ya about lighting up around here? Mother doesn’t like it.”
Sean takes one long drag and flips the butt to the floor, stomps it out with his boot heel. “Good to meet you,” he says, blowing smoke out of his nose.
“Yeah, man, welcome aboard, but leave them feelings about girls at the door,” the bearded one says, Billy. “When you’re out here with us, it’s not every man for themselves, it’s not fuck everyone and run back to your woman. No, man. None of that shit. We stick together and we fight together and if one of us gets in a pinch, we get out together, capisce?”
“Yeah,” I say. Can’t argue with that.
“Go easy on him, Billy,” Grady says. He comes up to me and pats me on the back, and whispers, “Shit goes down, he’s the first one we let go,” and he gives me a wink.
I offer him and uneasy smile then look back to the Garfunkel twins. “I’ll do my best.”
Billy shakes his head. “Don’t do your best, just be fucking smart, that’s all we ask. Croghan wasn’t smart. The dumbass — God rest his soul — walked by the forest without sending scouts. If that was me out there —”
“C’mon, Billy, he didn’t think they’d be so close to home,” Sean says.
“No, fuck that, man, people died,” Billy says.
Yeah, people always die. It sucks, but it’s not surprising. I’m lucky to be alive and I think so is this Billy fellow.
“You’re both just bluffing,” Grady says. “I didn’t see the rotters, either. Hell, no one did! We learn from our mistakes and we go on. That’s how life was before the zom-poc and that’s how life will continue to be. Simple as that.”
The twins don’t meet his eyes. They look like two freshly scolded students.
“Daylight’s wasting,” Jacob says. “Let’s gear up and get the hell out of here. Sooner we go, the quicker we’re back with our gals.”
I roll my eyes. Everyone sees, and the three men laugh.
“Right, let’s go,” Grady says.
The armory is something like an apocalypse goldmine. The whole room is full of weapons. There are long assault rifles, the types I recognize as AR15s, there’s grenades, machetes, baseball bats, things that look like lightsabers from Star Wars, chainsaws, riot gear, katanas, axes, sledgehammers, weird blades…something ninjas might wear, and so much more.
“Something else,” Billy says, “huh?”
“Open your mouth any wider a damned bat’s gonna think it’s his cave,” Sean says.
Billy runs his fingers through his beard, looking at the wall of weapons as he says, “Bats can’t see, dumbass. They use sonar. Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘You’re as blind as a bat?’ God, to think mom said you was the smart one.”
Sean punches him in the upper arm.
“Ow!” Billy says.
“Save it for D.C.,” Grady says. Then to me: “Well, Jack, since you’re new, you get first pick. Typically we go with an automatic rifle, a handgun, and a melee weapon, but do what you want. Jacob here is the sniper specialist.”
Weird. I never thought of Jacob as a sniper. He seems more like a blunt object, charge headfirst into a sea of zombies type of guy with the barbaric beard and all. Goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover.
“Was Special-Ops in the Army,” Jacob says.
“Whoa,” I say, surprised, “you should tell that to Norm. He was in the Army.”
Jacob shakes his head, “It was a long time ago. And times have changed. If I talked to Norm right now, it would be like a grandpa talking to his grandkid about iPhones and Xboxes. Only thing that stayed the same is the guns.” He takes a sniper rifle off the wall and peers into its scope. “Pretty much.” He smiles.
“Yeah, yeah, Jake is an old fart,” Billy says. “We all get it.”
And we all get Billy is an asshole, but I don’t say that. I look up at the wall of weapons. “So sniper rifle is off the table.”
“Damn right,” Jacob says.
There’s a handgun right in front of me that I grab. I really don’t care when it comes to weapons. I just want whatever works, whatever puts a bullet through the zombies’ heads. It has a wooden grip and chrome everywhere else. It’s a fine weapon. The weight in my hand alone tells me that.
“Good choice,” Grady says. “The SIG Sauer P220. That baby will hit the target four and half out of five times. The half-time you miss will still do some damage.”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s how those numbers work,” Sean says.
Grady waves him off and says, “Wasn’t too good at math, but zombie slaying…that’s another story. Good choice, Jack.” He lifts up his shirt and shows me almost the same exact pistol on his hip. “I keep mine on me at all times.”
“Jack took down Eden. He obviously knows his weapons,” Jacob says, grabbing ammo out of what looks like a large, oak shoe holder.
“Yep,” I say, feeling like a fraud.
Really, I just picked the weapon because of the wooden grip. I thought it was the modern equivalent of something Clint Eastwood would use in a Western movie. Of course, I don’t say that. Can’t say that when the testosterone is flowing. I know Jacob knows of my previous job, but I really hope it never comes out among these guys. I’ll get hanged. I bet they’re all ex-military or police officers. Something cool and badass like that. The best of the best, that’s why this group is smaller than the one I got into this village with.
“For rifles, your best bet is the AR15,” Grady says. “Shoots true and if worse comes to worse, it makes a hell of a bludgeoning tool.”
I look to the long, black weapon. A sickly feeling invades my stomach because I’m thinking of the Edenites clobbering one of Butch’s soldiers over and over with the tail end of a gun that looked exactly like the one staring me in the face.
“What else you got?” I ask.
“We got M16s, M4s,” he points to other guns below the AR15. “M16 is good if you keep the selector to semi-automatic. Don’t want to waste bullets and make a bunch of noise if you’re surrounded by those gut-bags.”
“I’ll take the M16,” I say.
“Not a bad choice,” Grady says, “if you know what you’re doing with it.” He smiles and winks. “Just pulling your leg, Jack. Of course you do.”
I don’t. Not really. I only picked the M16 because I remember using it in some first-person shooter game Kevin Crawford and I used to play in high school, when we were too busy being nerdy and lame to have friends or gals. And if high school Jack can do it in a video game, why can’t real-life Jack do it in the frigging zombie apocalypse? Yeah, I know, I’m reaching here, but what else can I do?
I pick up the M16 and it’s much heavier than I expect. Grady talked about the selector and I have no idea what that is, so I’m looking over the gun for something labeled selector and having no luck. Alas, I smile because I find it. It’s a small metal tab with three words engraved around it. SAFE, SEMI, and AUTO.
“Watch it,” Billy says. “Can’t be pointing that shit wherever you want.” Billy jumps back making a show of it. Quickly, I point the M16 at the floor. Even if I would’ve accidentally shot the red-headed asshole, it would’ve just hit him in the foot and maybe that’s what this guy needs.
Grady snickers. “It’s not loaded, Billy,” he says. “Quit whining.”
Billy pulls a gun off the wall and points it directly in Grady’s face. Grady’s features melt right there on the spot. The happy grin turns into stone. “Don’t worry, Grady, it’s not loaded,” Billy says, mimicking Grady’s voice. He spins the pistol on his fingers and puts it in his empty holster.
I want nothing more than to sock this guy, but I can’t. I have too much to worry about as it is. Abby. Doc Klein. Saving her and saving the world, so I can get back to Darlene by tomorrow. Man, it makes my head spin.
As the men load up, throwing boxes of rounds into their jacket pockets, I take Grady off to the side.
My voice is low. “You tell them yet?”
Grady shakes his head. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, supplies first then if we see the doctor in the city, we’ll save him. But it’s a long shot.”
I nod. I already know that.
Grady turns away from me. “Everyone ready?” he asks.
There’s a couple grunts of approval.
“Good, let’s kick some zombie ass!” Grady yells.
No one shouts with joy or excitement. I doubt that happens anymore at all.
29
The garage this place has is almost as breathtaking as the armory. We take a Hummer truck. It’s black. I am in the back with Sean and Billy. Jacob is behind the wheel, Grady in the front seat, our gear in the trunk. We cruise at a steady fifty mph on a stretch of untouched highway.
We drive in silence. I think of Darlene and Abby, hoping they can hold off until I come back, then I swallow hard with a dry throat, thinking I might not.
The image of Johnny Deadslayer comes to mind. He would come back. Johnny Deadslayer always comes back. He wants out. Seeing Jacob’s typewriter roused him. There’s stories to tell. It might’ve just been safer to stay in Jacob’s house and tell them.
“So you know the plan?” Jacob says, leaning back. “The real plan?”
I’m caught off-guard. “I-I,” I stammer.
“Yeah, we disobey everything Grady says because he’s shit,” Billy says. Outside of the windows, golden sunlight blazes off the blacktop. Wind rustles trees with hardly any leaves on them.
Jacob chuckles. “Exactly, though I wouldn’t have put it so harshly,” he says.
