Assuming Room Temperature (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 3) (15 page)

“Wow! I didn’t expect to find
you
back here
.”
Carson ran her hands down over her guest’s bare flank.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“How much farther is it?” Jake growled around his cigarette.

He was on edge that morning. The newly-risen sun glared at him from the rear-view mirror as he sat behind the wheel of the Troll, and the pounding within his head almost made him believe one of Santa’s elves was at work against the inside of his skull with a jackhammer. O’Connor had been awake damn near all night waiting for Cho to get back to the Mimi—so they could go over how to retrieve needed items from the Costco in Vanita—only to learn the ladies had planned a ‘girls night’ after the fact. Rae, Kat, and Beatrix stayed at Deputy Carson’s until late and, after imbibing quite a bit of alcohol, had opted to spend the night in unoccupied rooms at the Sunset Bar and Grill.

Kat had shown up shortly before dawn, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with not even the ghost of a hangover—which Jake thought was just unfair since he felt like seven different shades of powdered shit—ready and raring to go. When he’d mentioned this to her, Cho had sympathetically offered to get him some ibuprofen, shrugged his grumpiness off with a vapid smile, and told him once their scavenging party reached the Costco they could simply ‘wing it.’ The ache in Jake’s head—directly behind his left
eyeball
—increased after her professed lack of concern. He developed a brief, noticeable tick under his right eye, but wisely decided not to press the issue since his brain-holder was still pounding in time with his pulse.

Even while in such discomfort, the suffering man wasn’t stupid enough to intentionally start an argument in a car full of dangerous, heavily-armed women. He was surrounded, and drastically outnumbered—Kat, Elle, and Beatrix were all along for the ride, so he chose the better part of valor and kept his mouth shut about her late-night absence.

Besides, he just
knew
some conversations wouldn’t go anywhere good.

“Two more blocks, then hang a right.” Cho told him from the navi-guesser seat, more commonly known as ‘shotgun’.

“How can you eat that for breakfast?” Bee asked her.

Kat nibbled at the remains of an MRE pineapple-cake dessert pack that set his guts rolling. Since his near-death experience, O’Connor hadn’t been able to stomach anything in the wee-hours of the morning (until about 10:00am or so), except for blessed coffee and a couple of cigarettes.

Cho chomped her cake. “It’s good. Reminds me of Thanksgiving. You know, pineapples on the ham, pineapple cake...”

“But for breakfast? Ugh.” As Kat scarfed down the last square, Jake’s own discomfort was mirrored on Bee’s face. “You’re weird.”

“You’re just now noticing this?” Cho asked her, with raised brows.

O’Connor turned north, gripped the wheel, and—again—wisely kept his thoughts to himself as he scanned the road ahead.

He could see Vanita hadn’t been spared during the outbreak. While there weren’t many bodies left intact after months of exposure to the elements, remains were still scattered about the streets, the sidewalks, in doorways, even hanging from windows in places. Some of the bodies had been picked clean, others looked like they’d died from their wounds and become desiccated mummies. Jake realized the only way that could have happened was if either a living human had killed a zombie, or the creatures had stripped a victim too clean for them to reanimate. They’d all seen far more of the latter.

It was strange driving through a place such as that; empty as a lawyer’s soul while so very full of old death. O’Connor never had the opportunity to visit an honest-to-goodness ghost town prior to civilization coming to a swift, bloody end, and came to the realization he likely would not have enjoyed it. What allure did a place where humans used to dwell, now full of faded signs, abandoned buildings, and the too-stark bones of its former occupants have? Maybe it hit too close?

That made a lot of sense. During the time he’d been a civilian combat journalist attached to Britain’s SAS (Special Air Service), Jake had traveled to many of the sites his ancestors once called home. He’d done copious amounts of research, and actually managed to trace his family back to Ballymahon. The small village was located almost dead-center between Galway on the east coast and Dublin on the west, nearly smack-dab in the center of the Emerald Isle. He’d spent a week roving through the town’s streets, trekking around the surrounding countryside, and hiking through its forests. Jake had absorbed the area, made it a vibrant part of his memory, just in case he never made it back again.

But none of those places, not a single one of those blood-quickening, ancient battlefields, bailiwicks, or shrines, affected him the same way driving through an entire
country
of humanity’s desolation had over the last few weeks.

“You’re quiet this morning. What’s up?” Cho inquired as she double-checked her Glock.

O’Connor kept taking in their surroundings and drove on. “Nothing. Just ready to be done with this, I guess.”

Kat pursed her lips. “Uh-huh. You’ve been more surly than normal for the entire drive. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or am I gonna have to get creative?”

She began jabbing his ribs with swift fingers, attempting make O’Connor laugh, or at least draw him out of his funk.

“Goddammit Kat, let it go.” Jake drove around a burned-out Chevy Cavalier and ran over a stray ghoul. “I’m not in the mood, alright? Besides, I need to concentrate on the road.”

As if to emphasize his point, another zombie stumbled towards from the sidewalk towards their vehicle. Jake swerved towards the nasty thing intentionally, stomped on the gas pedal, and nailed it with the driver’s side of the Trolls heavy, front crash plate. Thick steel met goopy, dead flesh, which messily splattered the hapless creature across the Humvee’s hood and windshield. He hit the wipers to clear its body fluids from half-obscuring his view and drove on.

“There’s a bit of intestine at the top corner,” Cho informed him helpfully.

Jake glared at her, then pressed the button for some windshield wiper fluid.

Kat didn’t notice his irritation. She sat beside O’Connor, humming absently, mood brighter than the sun still beating its way into Jake’s head. Evidently happy about their need for a road trip, the blue-haired, young woman began tapping on the door-frame, quietly singing ‘Gonna Rock This Town” by her favorite rockabilly band: Stray Cats.

Though he continued to scowl against the pain in his skull, Jake noted for the first time that Kat had a very pretty singing voice.

“There it is. On the left.” Elle sat forward, then pointed out between O’Connor and the ninja-girl rocking out in the front seat.

For the most part, Vanita Costco was like all the rest previously reaching across the nation. The now-dark company logo rode a huge sign that would never again blaze out the presence of bargains-in-bulk, solid concrete walls, and single point of entry/egress right in front if you discounted the few loading dock doors. One difference was—unlike the other thousand-and-one retail locations the survivors seemed to have passed during their journey—this one seemed to be intact. It showed no signs of damage from the exterior—meaning looters hadn’t broken in, wrecked the mega-chain location as they’d emptied the shelves then burned it to the ground—save for a few old bloodstains on the walls out front, and O’Connor saw that the steel security gates were even down within when he rolled to a stop before the entrance.

“Well that’s new, isn’t it?” Beatrix glommed the cube of Hubba-Bubba Kat passed her, and the pair of women began happily chomping away. “When’s the last time we saw a store that didn’t look like Bourbon Street on the day after Mardi Gras?”

“Never. Let’s check it out.” Jake shut down the Hummer and hopped to the pavement, making damn-sure that his crowbar was secure along his spine and his M4 had a full magazine.

Cho moved up beside him as Elle and Bee watched for any threat, but they found playing rearguard was largely unnecessary. There was nothing. No movement. No creatures. Nada. The only sounds any of them heard were the high-pitched calls of avian life, the buzz of insects, and the rustle of what little stray trash littered the discount warehouse parking lot.

O’Connor looked about and his brows lowered into a frown. “Anybody else see that?”

Kat was puzzled. “What?”

“I do.” Bee tracked her own rifle from left to right, slowly taking in everything nearby. “What do you think, a week maybe?”

Jake nodded. “If that. No offense, but how come you noticed?”

“Hi! I’m Beatrix. Have you met my Uncle George?” The green-topped girl asked him with amusement.

“Point taken,” Jake conceded. “Elle?”

The blonde’s eyes searched the asphalt below their feet. “Closer to five days judging from the loss of definition, and taking in the effects of nature on the tracks.”

Kat looked down.

Something none of them could have noticed as they’d approached the warehouse, was that there were numerous, faint tire tracks in the grit before the front door. Glancing quickly about, she could’ve kicked herself for seeing the other signs of recent living activity. The lot was free of other vehicles for one. There were some cars—totaling fifteen in all—in the field next door, but at first glance Cho had mistakenly believed they’d been there since the outbreak had begun. Now, there was no mistaking the fresh ruts their tires had left in the soft earth when they’d been moved. Next was the lack of clutter within the parking lot. Nearly everywhere Jake’s party had traveled through in the past showed a healthy about of clutter, but the lot looked like it had been cleaned of stray trash and wreckage?

“Someone’s policed the area.” O’Connor gazed intently at the front door. “A lot of someones, if you want to be exact. It would take fifty or more people to pick up a space this size, at least with any kind of speed. More, if you didn’t want it to take all day.”

“Any chance they’re still inside?” Bee was noticeably hesitant about entering the structure now.

Elle shook her head. “Nah. If someone were here they’d have at least one vehicle sitting around for a quick getaway, just in case a horde came a-calling. I’m guessing whoever it was that paid this place a visit, they were on a supply run.”

“Let’s take a look.” Jake hefted his rifle, then motioned to the blonde sergeant. “Elle, find yourself a good vantage point. Give a call if trouble shows up.”

Since their battle with the Purifiers, Foster had insisted at least two members of every scouting/scavenging party carry his hand-held secure radios. Jake’s companions currently had a pair: One for Elle, and the other stuffed inside a pocket of his tactical vest.

“I’ve got just the spot.” Elle trotted across the pavement to a nearby fire engine seventy yards distant, and then vanished a-top the hose bed at the rear of the truck with her Long-Arm rifle.

“Alright girls.” Jake pulled the charging handle on his rifle, then strode for the door with Kat and Bee in tow, “Let’s go shopping.”

* * *

“Oh man! Clean-up on aisle five.” Beatrix covered her mouth and nose with one hand.

While Jake was focused on retrieving items from the list Rae had provided him that morning, he felt very much like doing the same.

Inside, the Costco stank to high heaven.

That wasn’t caused by rotting bodies or even decaying foodstuffs, but by the near-overflowing toilets beside the store’s front entrance. As they opened the door, a nauseating aroma assaulted the trio’s nostrils with such force that it nearly knocked them to their knees. Kat actually pulled her black zukin—the lower half of her ninja mask—from its pouch at her belt, then secured it tightly over her mouth and nose before deftly picking the lock at the base of the security gate. Once inside, it was simple to pinpoint the source of said gut-churning scent. That was because the stink of piss and feces swelled to almost unbearable levels as they moved past the bathrooms. Bee lost the battle with her stomach and moved quickly to vomit into a handy waste can. As the green-haired girl upchucked loudly, O’Connor and Cho strove to keep their own stomach contents down while taking shallow breaths. Through their mouths.

“Holy…” Kat managed, “How could anyone stay in here with that
smell?”

Jake swallowed against the pressure in his throat. “If the alternative were being torn apart by those things? You’d be surprised what human beings can tolerate in the face of certain death.”

“No way. I’d rather die.” Beatrix finally got control of her gag reflex once more, and scurried quickly past the toilets to join them within the store proper. “I don’t think I’m going to be eating dinner tonight...”

“Let’s
not
talk about eating, shall we?” Kat pointed at her zukin. “Barfing while wearing one of these isn’t something I want to experience.”

The thought of doing so made Jake cringe, and he shook his head to drive the image away. “Stay focused here, ladies. Since the security gates were down, there likely aren’t any of those things in here, but—”

“Maggot-heads.” Kat interjected.

O’Connor sighed. “Fine. There likely aren’t any ‘maggot-heads’ in here, but we can’t assume we’re safe and we need to make this little outing as brief as possible. I can’t see checking the whole store considering it’s just the three of us. So, we stay together, cover each others backs, and—”

Cho grinned behind her mask. “You go first. I’ll watch your butt. I mean back.”

“Me too.” Bee smiled without the least little bit of shame. “I heard about your strip-tease when you guys rescued Allen and Maggie. Since I wasn’t there to see it, I think—”

“As I was saying,” Jake said firmly and gave them each a scowl. “We all stick together and take it aisle by aisle, until we find what Rae needs for the buses. With any luck we’ll be able to grab a wheelbarrow or carts to move the smaller stuff, but I don’t have a clue how to get her a pair of freezer doors. Those things literally weigh a ton.”

“If you’re in such a hurry, how are we going to locate the rest?” Bee moved up beside him as they passed the checkout lines. “This place is huge!”

Jake pointed up a thumb up at the sign above his head, one of the many listing what each aisle contained.