“None taken,” she said as she stepped from the cab. “We need cigarettes,” she yelled right before she began a coughing fit I was sure would dislodge a hot, blackened lung from her thin chest.
“Plenty of those,” Crotchety said. “More than I could smoke in this lifetime. Never smoked before, but when I was in that empty convenience store, it seemed like something I wanted to start. Smoked one of them damn things when I got home and realized I couldn’t stand them. Didn’t really see a need to bring them back.”
Mrs. D was already on the move.
“I’ve got some food, but I’m not in the sharing mood. Plenty of other houses you can get that from.”
“Sir, we don’t need any of that, we’re looking for guns and ammo.” I told him.
“What do you need that for?” he asked in all seriousness. I thought he was dead panning a killer joke.
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked him when he was still looking at me for an answer.
“I have never carried a gun, so I saw no sense in starting now. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those bleeding heart liberals; just always afraid I’d kill myself figuring out how to use them. I have a knife, but I only use that to cut open packages of stuff.”
“Wait,” Brian said, not believing a word he was hearing. “You’re telling us that you’ve survived all this time not having to shoot or kill anything?”
“Oh, I didn’t say that I didn’t kill anything. About a week back, had this mean old raccoon trying to get into my basement, threw a brick at him, but he didn’t get the message. Took two slugs with the shovel before he finally died.”
“You’re…you’re playing with us, right?” Brian asked, still not believing a word he was hearing.
“I don’t know you from Adam, son, and I’ve never been known to play.”
Mrs. Deneaux pushed past the man and into his entryway.
“They’re in the cabinet in the kitchen next to the fridge,” he told her, pointing back into his house. A few seconds later, I could hear what could only be described as a cow getting its milk-fattened udders caught in multiple mousetraps, it was that unsettling.
“Is that Deneaux?” Gary asked, placing his hands over his ears.
“I guess she found the cigarettes,” Crotchety said.
Brian was shaking his head, walking around in small circles. He was mumbling to himself. “No guns! The world is caving in on itself and this crazy old bastard doesn’t even have a gun.”
“What’s wrong with your friend?” Crotchety asked. “He looks like he has distemper.”
Deneaux pushed past the old man, her arms stacked high with cartons of varying smokes. She looked like a schoolgirl that just got a fully paid shopping spree to the mall.
“He’ll be fine,” I said. “Would you happen to know where we could get some guns then? So that we can be on our way.”
“You look like you’re planning trouble,” Crotchety said with scrutinizing speculation. “I don’t like trouble. It tends to get people killed.”
“Listen, old man!” BT bellowed. “See this man here?” BT said as he placed his hands on my shoulders. “If trouble were the rarest element on the planet, my good friend, Michael Talbot,” BT tousled my hair for effect, “would have the entire market cornered.”
“Thanks, man.” I appreciate that.
“No, this man needs to understand. If trouble were a fine thread, Mike could weave it into a three piece suit.”
“I think he gets it.”
“No, I’ve got one more.”
“Fine, go ahead.”
“If trouble were a drop of water, Mike could fill a swimming pool.”
“Oooh, that was the best one,” Gary said.
“Hilarious, guys.”
“And you stay with him. Why?” the old man asked.
“Because for some damn reason, he always finds a way to stay one step ahead of it,” BT said proudly.
“One step isn’t a lot of cushion, son,” Crotchety said.
“I’d be six feet under, if it wasn’t for him.”
“Understood. Three doors down, dipshit named Greg Hodgkins, Nascar fan and all that implies was shooting through his window for hours it seemed when the zombies first came. That very same night, I heard his screams for help. The more he shot, the more zombies came. Now I’m no genius, but it almost seems that if you leave them alone, they tend to do the same.”
“Yeah? We haven’t had that kind of luck,” I told him.
“No,” Gary said over-exaggeratedly as he shook his head.
I looked over to where this great battle had waged, but except for a few splotches on the curb, I didn’t see much evidence. “Where are the bodies?”
“We waited a few--” he started.
“We?” I asked.