I looked over to Brian to see what he thought; it was his back that needed watching. “Sure,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Alright, we’ll be back in a couple of hours. If something happens here, go back to the Big 5 store.”
“Got it,” Brian said, already digging into the next locker.
Mrs. Deneaux was sitting on the bumper with her head tilted up, soaking in the sun as much as her lungs soaked in the caustic carcinogens from the cancer sticks.
“Doesn’t much look like she’s watching anyone’s back,” BT said as we walked out of the storage facility.
“We’ve got to get some wheels,” Paul said nervously. “I’m too old to run.”
“Buddy, remember we played on the high school football team together? There was a reason you were the quarterback and not a running back.”
“Not much of a scrambler then?” BT asked Paul.
“You both know what you can do with my ass,” Paul stated.
“Paul, to be fair, I watched a few of your games back then. I think you could beat Dan Marino in a foot race,” Gary said in all seriousness.
I started laughing. “Wasn’t he in the league for like seventeen years?”
“Something like that,” Gary answered.
“I think he had about seven yards rushing total for all those years. We probably should make getting a car a priority.”
“I like it much better when I’m not the object of ridicule. Should we talk about Mike’s first girlfriend?”
“Don’t you dare!” I said, spinning on my heel to face him.
Paul threw his hands up in mock surprise.
“Let’s just find a car,” I said, trying to change the subject.
We had walked about a hundred yards before anyone spoke again.
“So what about her?” BT asked.
“Paul, there’re lines in the sand and once they’re crossed, you can’t come back.” He didn’t seem fazed. “Should I bring up…”
Paul cut me off. “Mike, you swore on your word that you wouldn’t ever bring that up again.”
“We have an understanding then?” I asked him. Paul nodded eagerly.
“Damn! Just when this was getting interesting,” BT said, smiling, happy that he had just stirred the hornets’ nest.
There were plenty of cars abandoned on the street, most with the keys still in them, but the tanks were drained dry. These people had left in a hurry, not even bothering to shut their cars off. Some unlucky few had been eaten where they sat. Sometimes their bodies were half dragged out, snagged by their seatbelts as they were devoured alive. Some had telltale bullet holes in them and had been wholly left alone from the main predator that now prowled the earth; but the lesser scavengers still had to eat. Birds invariably went for the softer-tissued eyes; just one more reason to hate the flying vermin. Rats, I guessed from the droppings, were mostly concerned with chewing through whatever footwear the people had been wearing so they could get to the feet. The meat-stripped feet and eyeless dead, for some reason, were more disturbing than those that had been stripped clean by the zombies.
Gary was right behind me. He had one hand on my shoulder so that I could guide him as he kept his head pointed heavenward. His gagging had been non-stop since we had come across this snarl of dead in the center of town. The worst of the smell had long since passed and the bodies began to resemble something more along the lines of human jerky. But it was still no Yankee Candle store out here.
“What the hell happened here?” Paul asked.
“It looks like zombies came and whoever was shooting didn’t care where their bullets landed,” I said.
Gary took this moment to throw up on my back. “Are you kidding me?” I asked as I immediately handed my rifle to BT so I could take my light jacket off. I swear I could still feel the runny liquid rolling down between my shoulder blades.
“I…I can wipe it off,” Gary offered as he bent over to get the jacket I had just dropped.
“Leave it,” I told him. And that was right before he heaved all over it again.
“Sorry,” he said with a green-tinged smile.
“Is there anything on my shirt?” I asked BT.
“Aw, man,” BT said turning me around.
“Don’t fuck with me, man. I’m barely functioning right now thinking about this.”
“You’re fine,” BT said, laughing as he gently slid his hand down my back and mirrored the feeling of warm stomach bile.
I jumped away. “Paul?”
“You’re fine, man,” Paul said, smiling.
“I’ll tell them,” I said desperately.
“You’re fine!” Paul reiterated.
“You sure you don’t want this?” Gary said, picking it up by the right sleeve, just about the only part that wasn’t coated in his stomach lining.