Dead Drunk II: Dawn of the Deadbeats (Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time Book 2) (16 page)

“Think
they’ll get bored and leave?” Sam asked. Nobody replied, and that was answer
enough.

Smokey paced
around and chewed on his fingers. “It’s like
Sweet Valley High
on
mushrooms out there. We’re pretty much screwed, chewed, and barbecued.”

“Barbecue. I
can still smell that turtle cooking on the grill,” Rob said. “I bet it would
have been delicious.”

“That
dickhead Pat must have known the zombies were by the lake, too. Not that it
matters,” Charlie said. “Creepy jagoff.”

“I know this
is a long shot, but now would be a great time to pray,” Katya suggested. “In
the darkest times—”

“No, Sister
Buzzkill, now is time to drink,” Vlad said. “Time to celebrate life. Didn’t
save vodka for nothing.”

“For once, I
agree with him,” Charlie added.

Katya nodded.
“Okay then. I’ll pray, you do your thing. We all have our roles.”

And so they
began passing the handle of vodka around while telling off-color jokes and
stories. Smokey played some music on his phone, and although there was a bit of
grumbling about the song selection, it definitely helped them forget their
macabre situation. At least a little.

The
conversation turned to people that they hoped had died in the apocalypse,
including all of the Kardashians, all the world’s lawyers, and anyone that said
“BOGO” instead of “Buy one, get one.”

“Ronald
Reagan,” Smokey added.

“Man, he’s
been dead for like, ten years,” Charlie said. “Get over it.”

“Still, fuck
him. War on drugs asshole,” Smokey said.

“Speaking of
the dead, we should say a few words for Pong,” Charlie said. He dumped an ounce
of vodka on the floor and continued, “He lived a short, dirty life, and died a
horribly violent death. But at least he died free.” He patted Ping on the back
and handed him the bottle.

The older
Korean said a few words and then dumped more vodka out before taking a long
pull for himself. He handed the bottle to Rob, closed his eyes, and sat down on
the mausoleum floor, lost in his thoughts.

Rob took a
massive drink and then ruffled Sam’s red hair. “I think it’s time for our
little guy to have his first drink. It’s not like there’s a legal age limit
anymore. What do you think, Charlie?”

“Sounds like
a great idea. Just one drink, though.”

Sam looked
nervous about the idea and turned to Charlie. “How come you’re not joining in?
From everyone’s stories it seems like that’s all you guys do is drink.”

“I used to
toss ‘em back with the best of them. There were late nights, women, and
shenanigans I won’t mention in the presence of a nun.”

“Thank you,”
Katya said.

“You could
say, for a long time, I was like the dancing gopher in
Caddyshack
.
Except when the music stopped playing, everybody else noticed but me. I was in
a bad place, trust me. And now I got my head on right for once. So I’ll pass,
but you go ahead. Your first drink should always be with your best friends.”

Sam smiled
genuinely at the sentiment and his face turned red even in the dark. He took a
quick gulp and coughed most of it up. “This tastes like gasoline. Why would you
guys drink this garbage? No thanks.”

“Yep, that’s
what my first time was like,” Charlie noted with a grin.

Vlad slapped
Sam on the back way too hard. “I take his portion.”

The drinking
continued and tongues were loosened. Even after his recent anonymous beating,
Left-Nut – being Left-Nut – decided to press his luck.

“Doesn’t look
like we’re gonna make it out of here. What do you say, Katya? Fancy a little
Cemetery Mary action?”

The nun stood
up and quietly walked towards the cretin.

“Oh, hell
yes. I didn’t think that you’d really take me up on—” He broke off as the nun
began to kick his still-injured shin. Repeatedly. “Get off me you damn psycho!”

Big Rob
pulled Katya back, although he was purposefully a bit slow to do so. It seemed
the day was a good one for kicking Left-Nut’s ass, even for members of the
clergy.

The others
roared with laughter at the sight until Charlie cut them off with the wave of a
hand. “What’s that smell? And I’m not talking about Rob’s armpits.”

“Smoke,” Sam
answered as the scent got strong enough for everyone to smell. “It’s a forest
fire. My scout leader trained us to recognize the smell.”

“That must
have been a tough one to learn,” Left-Nut said and rolled his eyes while
rubbing his sore shin.

“He’s just
trying to help,” Smokey said.

“Oh, like you
did by burning the dumbass dog half to death?”

“Seriously,
you even hate dogs?” Smokey countered.

“No, I don’t
hate dogs. In fact, I love them. Not that you dick-wads care.” Left-Nut sat
down Indian-style and went seamlessly into storytelling mode. “We had a poodle
that my parents got for my tenth birthday, I named him Elmo and he was my best
friend for years.”

“I remember
that dog, it bit my leg,” Rob said.

“He hated
everyone except me,” Left-Nut said. “And what’s with every dog biting you? Is
it because you smell like bacon?”

“Okay, so
what happened,” Charlie said.

“It was
Christmas break our junior year of college, and I came home from the bar one
night, completely wasted as usual. But you see, Elmo fell asleep at the door
waiting for me, and I just didn’t see him. I just didn’t see him…” Left-Nut
attempted to say something else but his words were lost amongst tears, and he
broke down like his friends had never witnessed before.

“See, you are
a human being after all,” Charlie said.

A solitary
tear ran down the jerk’s face. “I loved that dog. We got him from a puppy mill
so he was about half-retarded, but he was a good shit. Little guy followed me
around everywhere like I was a rock star.”

Rob walked
over to a trembling Left-Nut as if he were about to give him a hug. Then he
slapped him multiple times. “Pussy!”

“What the
hell?”

“You don’t
get to have feelings after all the shit you’ve pulled. Nope.” It was an odd
move for Rob, but there was a bit of justice in it.

“Thank you
for sharing,” Katya said.

But rather
than graciously accept the kind words, Left-Nut returned to true form. “Okay,
I’ll ask about the five-hundred-pound gorilla in the room that nobody else has
the balls to bring up. What happened to your face?”

Katya
self-consciously touched her scar before taking a deep breath. “Okay. If you
must know, I came to the States from Ukraine after answering an advertisement
for students. I thought I would be a nanny, but the men responsible for transit
had other ideas.”

“I bet they
did,” Left-Nut said.

“It was a
prostitution ring, but one of the gang leaders found out I was a virgin and
said he wanted me for himself. He was nicer than the others and told me all I
had to do was pay off my tickets and then he would take me away. I would be his
girlfriend.”

The room was
deadly quiet as everyone followed the nun’s every word. Except for the zombies
banging on the door. They just kept right on hammering away.

“First he had
me fill shopping carts with food and then get in line in front of single men.
When I couldn’t pay, I would cry, and the men would pay for everything. He made
me do this all across the city.”

“Not a bad
scam,” Left-Nut said.

Katya nodded.
“That was somewhat harmless, but what came next was not. You have seen women
begging by subways, holding sleeping children?”

“All the
time,” Charlie said. “Tossed them a few quarters myself, just to be nice.”

“The women
are there for many hours, and their babies are always sleeping. How many babies
can sleep all day and never cry?”

“I guess I
never thought about that. Were they dolls or something?” Charlie asked.

Katya shook
her head. “They drugged the children. And people walk right on by, often giving
money out of the belief they are helping the children, but only making it
worse. Sometimes a woman would overdose her baby and she would have to hold a
dead child for hours until another would be brought by as a replacement, like
light bulb.”

“Jesus,”
Smokey said. “Sorry. Did that happen to you?”

“Thankfully
not on my shift. But after I toiled for six months to repay my debt, the man I
trusted brought me to a fancy hotel. I found out he had merely wanted to sell
me to the highest bidder. When another man came to claim his prize, I scratched
at his face and was beaten in return. They dumped me in an alleyway and
splashed Drano on my face.”

Charlie
thought back to the fateful night of the bachelor party and the Eastern
European hooker he’d spent it with. Could she have been in a similar situation,
forced into such a life by the very same men? It was a horrible thought, and
one he quickly pushed to the back of his mind.

“I promised
God that if he saved my life, I would serve him without question,” Katya
continued, “He did, and here we are.”

There was an
awkward silence for a while as the heavy story settled in. Then Vlad set the
empty bottle down and cleared his throat to change the subject. “Story time
over. Now we rest. In morning, we fight.”

“You think we
can actually make our way out?” Smokey asked.

“Of course
not,” Vlad answered with a crooked-toothed smile. “But what a glorious death it
will be.”

Russ returned
with two gas cans full of diesel fuel after having been gone for a whole day.
This was how long it took him to partially sober up and then find his way home
from a nearby town after getting extremely ripped off a bottle of Everclear.
“Partially” was the key word and it was obvious he was in good spirits. “Did
somebody order a taxidermist, because I’m ready to stuff some pus—”

“If anyone
needs a taxidermist it’s your Betelgeuse-looking ass,” Jackie said without even
cracking a smile. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Just TCB,
baby. Taking care of business.”

Padma,
however, couldn’t contain her grin. “Russ, you are retar-dead. That’s all I
have to say.” For whatever strange reason, the guy was growing on her. He was
an idiot for sure, but he had this strange sort of cagey intelligence that she
had never seen before. Unlike the professional class Padma had been surrounded
with her entire life, Russ was a real man. One that farted and swore, smoked
cigarettes and probably cheated in friendly poker games. But they were all
alive because of him, and that meant plenty right there.

Russ grinned
right back and his greenish tinted eyes, like all the infected had, sparkled
with mischief. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you missed me.”

“But you do
know better,” Padma countered.

A very
different-looking Marquell walked around the corner of the truck and
interrupted the banter.

“Carlton
Banks,” Russ said with a snicker.

“Ain’t nobody
talkin’ to your creepy ass,” Marquell said, though there was none of the
bitterness the statement might have had days earlier.

“Actually, I
like the new hairdo,” Russ added.

“Mary did a
good job cutting it,” Marquell said and ran his fingers through his freshly
shorn locks. “But if you must…” To everyone’s surprise, he did a spot-on
impression of the Carlton Dance from “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air,” complete
with a goofy smile. Everyone laughed, and it was clear that Marquell could
still be charming on demand.

“Why’d you
cut it, though?” Russ asked.

 “The
dreads were just something I wore for a lawsuit, and also to look hard. And I’m
done with that mess.”

“How about
you put the gas in the truck so we can get going?” Jackie said, cutting the
homecoming short. “Hanging out on the highway here isn’t exactly inconspicuous,
and we’ve had our fair share of excitement while you were gone.” She pointed to
a pile of zombie bodies in a nearby ditch.

Russ checked
on a sleeping Trent in the back and then did as directed. Soon the semi was
travelling down the highway once again, and the airport was just a short ride
away. The strange thing was, Russ always drove perfectly fine no matter his B.A.C.,
and the trip was over in no time.

They pulled
up to the abandoned municipal airport and breathed a sigh of relief. It
appeared empty, at least superficially, and there were plenty of small planes
on the runways. Both major details had been in question before arrival. Now
they simply had to find the keys that Marquell promised would be there. And gas
up a plane. And actually fly the thing. And land it.

“Morphine’s a
hell of a drug,” Trent said as Padma and Jackie helped him sit down at a red
picnic table. The cop was lucid, but moving slow.

“It sure is,”
Padma said and scratched Elvis tenderly behind her ear. “But you should move as
little as possible to avoid breaking your stitches. You aren’t out of the woods
yet just because it doesn’t hurt as much. After all, you only got shot
yesterday.”

Trent nodded.
“Let’s not worry about me. Russ and Marquell, get this show on the road. Or in
the air, I should say.”

The odd
couple left the others behind and crept into the main terminal which was little
more than a warehouse, and sought out the women’s restroom. Marquell walked
into the middle stall and stood on the toilet before shoving a ceiling tile up
and over. Then he reached inside and felt what he was looking for. Airplane
keys. But there were surprises as well. One kilo of shrink-wrapped high-grade
Columbian cocaine and a fully loaded 9mm Glock pistol. Only these extra items
weren’t surprises for Marquell. He grabbed the weapon and clicked the safety
off.

Russ was his
usual chatty self. “No offense, but—”

Marquell
turned and faced Russ, keeping his hand hidden in the ceiling. “Whenever
someone says ‘no offense,’ I know for damn sure what’s coming next is gonna
piss me right off. So choose your next words carefully.”

“I was gonna
say, I kinda thought Trent was dumb for saving you at first. But I’m sure glad
he did. That’s all.”

The former
gang leader stared ahead, lost temporarily in an inner struggle. He had planned
from the beginning to kill Russ and Trent at exactly this juncture, and after
the arrival of the women had come up with even worse scenarios.

“You okay
bro?”

Marquell
nodded his head. “Y’all were dumb for picking up a cold-blooded killer – in
reality, a demon.” There was a long pause in the conversation as he took the
pistol from hiding. “Something with no conscience or soul. Yeah, it was very
dumb.”

“Now wait
just a minute there. You can’t—”

“But I guess
you got lucky. Because that demon, he’s gone.” Marquell brought his other hand
down and tossed the package of coke to Russ. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

“Hot damn, is
this what I think it is?”

“Yep.”
Marquell grabbed the keys and the two rejoined the others at the meeting spot.
He placed the pistol on the table as a gesture of goodwill and Russ did
likewise with the cocaine.

Trent’s eyes
grew as big as silver dollars and his nose began to twitch at the sight. “Look
who brought the snow to the party.”

His trauma
doctor noticed the reaction. “Easy there, Steven Tyler,” Padma said. “Taking
cocaine while on morphine would kill you.”

“But oh, what
a way to go,” Trent said. The cop had been having his own existential crisis
after having escaped death a second time – though he was badly wounded – in
just the past few days. With nothing but time on his hands he’d been thinking a
lot about what drove him to take a bullet for Jackie, a woman he hadn’t even
known. He kept telling himself it was all about trying to get laid, as lame as
that sounded. However, the reality was much different. Like Marquell, he was
evolving, in a way. Whether the transformation continued remained to be seen.
If his past was any indication, the road to redemption would be quite bumpy
indeed.

“Now we have
to find a green plane with gold wings,” Marquell said. “It’s pretty pimp if I
do say so myself.”

Trent
scoffed. “Real subtle for a drug-runner.”

Just then, a
loud noise startled the group and they looked around in confusion before seeing
a large plane coming in for a landing several runways over. Sort of. The
landing gear failed to deploy correctly and the plane skidded off the runway
and barreled into one of the hangers at high speeds.

 A
member of the political class, Jackie immediately recognized the white Boeing
VC-25 with a distinctive blue stripe running down the middle. It was Air Force
One. And it was on fire.

*                      
*                      
*

After a
moment of shock, everyone except for Trent (who was told to stay at the table)
grabbed their improvised weapons and ran towards the wreckage. They were
prepared to do something, but they weren’t sure what that something was
yet. 

An evacuation
slide inflated and deployed as thick black smoke swirled around the plane while
the powerful smell of jet fuel permeated the air. Jackie took the lead. “We’ll
wait a couple minutes for survivors, but then we better get some distance
because this thing could go up. And be ready for zombies to either zip down
that slide or come out of nowhere. That wasn’t exactly quiet.”

A person
finally emerged in the doorway and stumbled onto the slide, screaming all the
way down before coming to a bloody rest on top of a satchel handcuffed to his
wrist. The injured person was followed by a second man that came down shortly
after, holding his hands up in surrender.

The first man
had a wild fanatical look in his eyes as he stared right through them, speaking
like a sidewalk preacher. “The book of Revelations has come true. Babylon the
great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils, and the
hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird.”

Jackie knew
who it was right away, having attended several fundraisers with the injured
man. “That’s Senator Sanders. My father golfed with him a lot.”

The second
man, Secretary of State Sam Childers, corrected her. “You mean President
Sanders.”

It was at
that point that Russ pounced on the injured man and tore off a huge mouthful of
the president’s neck, causing blood to shoot outwards like a burst water
balloon. Russ’s eyes rolled back in his head as he chewed happily on the most
powerful man in the world. In response, the president shuddered and
involuntarily convulsed in a sickening display.

Everyone else
screamed in shock, except for the third man coming down the safety chute. That
man promptly shot Russ point blank in the forehead.

Right or
wrong, Marquell retaliated and shot the man dead with a blast from his own
pistol. In an instant, Stromm Aikens’ storied career was ended by the furious
pull of a trigger. Marquell fired one more shot into the Secretary of Defense’s
body before administering the coup de grace on the president.

The whole
sequence happened in about thirty seconds, but had changed the trajectory for
the course of human history. And to think that Marquell had just devoted his
life to doing good deeds.

Padma’s lip
quivered as she looked at Russ, lying peacefully on the ground, almost
appearing alive. “Namaste.” She kissed the clean side of his face and said
goodbye in her native tongue.

Russ sat up.
“What happened?” The bullet was stuck to his forehead and sizzling away like a
sausage in a skillet.

“Now that was
some
Tango and Cash
shit,” Marquell said, not believing his own eyes.
“You really do have a hard head.”

Russ tapped
his bloody noggin and pried the bullet off before tossing it in the grass. “I
had a steel plate implanted after a dirt bike accident. Wasn’t riding it, the
bike just wasn’t anchored to the wall right in my garage and it fell on me.
They said it would have killed a normal man…”

“Tell stories
later, this thing could blow at any second,” Jackie said and ushered everyone,
including the Secretary of State, to a safe distance. The plane became
completely enveloped in flames but never actually exploded.

Trent was not
happy when the situation was explained to him. “I turn my back for one minute
and you eat the fucking president? I swear you’re crazier than Gary Busey’s
girlfriend.”

“It’s not as
bad as it seems,” the silver-tongued newcomer said.

“And who in
Jupiter’s balls are you?” Trent asked.

“Sam
Childers.”

“Doesn’t ring
a bell.”

“You never
saw me on CNN?  I was kind of a big deal. You know, Secretary of State?”

“CNN’s for
pussies,” Trent said matter-of-factly. “But what are you talking about?”

The man
exhaled deeply. “They were horrible men. Totally out of control, and they
caused irreparable damage to the world.”

“He tasted
like mothballs and Viagra,” Russ said and spit. “Now Trent’s partner, she was
delicious. Marquell, your friend wasn’t bad, but I’m not into dark meat. Never
was.”

“Watch
yourself,” Marquell said with a hard look on his face. “I’m trying to turn over
a new leaf here, but I ain’t no bitch. Ace was my boy.”

“You were
just along for the ride?” Padma asked, bringing the subject back to more
pressing matters. “You speak of these men like you were an outside observer.”

“Actually,
yes. They held me captive since the outbreak happened. I was with them, but I
wasn’t with them, if you catch my drift.”

“So what were
they keeping you around for?” Padma pressed.

“I was
smarter than they were and kept them alive. Until we met you…” Mr. Childers
said while casting an apprehensive glance in Russ’s direction. “And I can pilot
a plane. That wasn’t me crashing the plane there, by the way.”

“No shit? You
can fly?” Trent said, turning to Marquell. “That’s good news. We were all a
little worried about you flying us.”

“Me too,”
Marquell said. “That was my plan’s one downfall.”

“A pretty big
one at that,” Jackie added. “Okay, Mr. Secretary. Are you going to fly us out
of here then? There’s a base in western Illinois we’re trying to reach. They
have some friends there, and we have a little something else going on too.”

“That’s Mr.
President now,” Childers said, noting that he was indeed up in the line of
succession. “So it looks like we finally have our first gay president. Not duly
elected, mind you, but we’ll take what we can get.” He looked to Russ. “Do you
have a problem with that, Jethro?”

“Course not.
One of my best friends was a hom— I mean, gay guy.”

The newly
minted president was not amused. “And yes, I have thousands of hours under my
belt in small aircraft. But you’re going to tell me what’s going on with this…
gentleman, before I agree to help you,” he added.

Jackie
nodded. “Definitely. I’ll fill you in on what’s going on and the others can
find our plane and see about getting it gassed up.”

Her plan was
straightforward, but its execution was not. The fuel pump turned up empty, as
did their plane, and so they had to siphon fuel from several other planes
located all around the airport. By the time this was accomplished the sun had
set, and the president convinced them to wait for daylight to begin the next
leg of their journey.