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Authors: Armand Rosamilia

Dying Days 4 (19 page)

BOOK: Dying Days 4
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"And you thought it wise to do this, and capture their women as slaves?" Jeff asked.

"It seems to work for you," Doug said quietly.

Jeff ignored Doug. "What happens when their men return?" He looked at one of the women and repeated the question.

She spit on the ground. "They'll gut you. All of you. There are fifty of them and they protect us."

"They didn't today," RJ said.

Jeff lifted the rifle and shot RJ in the gut. He turned to Doug. "Is this what you were talking about? A slow and painful death?"

Doug nodded. "Pretty much. Yeah."

Jeff aimed the gun at the two women. "Take me back to your camp. If you so much as look at me wrong, I will shoot you the same way."

"What should we do?" Doug asked.

"Stab him in the head so he doesn't come back to hump my leg. And then watch the road. When the men return, we're going to be fucked."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty Five

 

 

She'd made a man out of his son, and Murph was thankful for it. He stared at Darlene and gripped her arm as strongly as he could.

"You're going to be alright," Darlene whispered, cleaning his wound. "We've survived worse."

Murph grinned despite the pain. "Worse? What's worse than getting shot by a stray bullet? Damn. It wasn't even for me. Isn’t that the kicker? At least if I was gunned down like in a John Wayne flick, I'd have died manly. A bullet randomly through a piece of wood? Damn it all to hell."

"Shut up and sit still. I think the bullet went out the back," Darlene said.

Murph shook his head. "Betcha it didn't. I can feel the sonofabitch moving around in there, trying to get at my weak heart."

Darlene tried to smile and failed. "You're always so dramatic."

"It's better than being scared," he said softly. "Listen, I want you to swear you'll protect John-John. Swear to me."

"I swear. But you're not going anywhere, old man. Nice try."

Murph coughed but when John and Tosha started coming over to where he was sitting on one of the few remaining benches he waved them away. "I'm talking to the lady."

"Lean forward so I can see the exit wound," Darlene said. She had a bucket of water and a stack of towels on the table. "The sooner I clean you up the better. You don't want it getting infected."

"I never liked his wife," Murph said.

Darlene looked back at John. "Don't say that."

"It's true. He knew it, too. She was quite the bitch. I know he talks all lovey-dovey about her, but it's still the truth. She had him wrapped around her finger and I couldn't stand being around her." He leaned forward into Darlene's chest and coughed. When he stopped and pulled back, he grinned. "They've gotten nice and ripe."

Darlene smacked him playfully. "Dirty old man. Even when you're faking your own death, you're still trying to cop a feel."

"Not faking," Murph said and leaned forward in pain. "Check my back. No hole."

Darlene stared into his eyes. Her bottom lip trembled.

"Don't you dare go all watery on me, girl. We've been through too much for you to get sad now. You need to be strong," Murph said.

"Fuck you." Darlene looked up. "And fuck you."

"No," Murph said and put a hand on her face. "Don't do that. It's not his fault. It's my time, and I'm good with it. I'm just getting in the way down here. I have a wife and family waiting for me, you know. Now that John-John is in your hands I can die in peace."

"You're not going to die."

Murph coughed again, a trickle of blood in the corner of his mouth. He wiped it on his dirty sleeve and smiled. "See? You can't cheat Death. He's knocking on my door."

Darlene looked behind Murph and sighed. "You weren't bluffing. The bullet never exited."

"Why would I lie about something like that?"

"Because you're a dirty old man who wanted me to push my tits against you one more time. Am I wrong?"

"Nope. And, if you weren't my son's gal and carrying his kid, my last wish would be to see them puppies unleashed," Murph said.

"I hope where you're going there are no tits."

Murph sighed. "Then I'm going to hell."

They both laughed but Darlene turned away when more blood appeared from Murph's mouth. "I need to see my boy," he finally said. He stifled another cough. "Take good care of him. I'll see you on the other side." Murph put a hand on Darlene's belly. "And take care of this very important package. I wish I could've been around long enough to spoil him or her."

Darlene leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. His flesh was hot. She also made sure she brushed her boobs accidentally across the bridge of his nose. The old man deserved one last funny moment.

When she stood and nodded at John, she thought she was going to fall. She went to the back door of the diner and poked her head outside.

The motel behind it was a mess, timber and mattresses strewn about the parking lot. Someone, at some point, had stacked six box-springs perfectly in a parking space. There was dried blood on the topmost one and it had crawled down the sides.

Certain none of the looters were in the immediate area, Darlene went to the room that had the least damage, which still meant no fixed walls but at least the roof had collapsed backwards and wasn't covering the room.

She carefully went through the rubble, stepping over what was once an end table and onto the greasy mattress. Everything was moldy and musty, the open roof letting the elements in each day. When a large field mouse scampered out from under the bed, Darlene wasn't surprised.

A lone mouse didn't bother her anymore. She smiled, remembering the time a tiny white mouse had run across the kitchen floor while her dad sat in his underwear reading the paper. Darlene had screamed, jumping onto a chair and fell onto the kitchen table, shattering it just as her dad picked up his coffee cup.

"You need to lose a few pounds, honey," he'd said calmly, eyes still glued on his sports page. He took a sip of coffee.

Darlene, even pregnant, was still lighter than she'd been at that time. She smiled. Nothing ever affected her dad. Murph was a lot like him. They'd both been good men. And now this virus or disease or whatever the hell it was had claimed another good man.

The wooden desk in the motel room was shattered into many pieces, but Darlene found what she was searching for, under a broken lampshade.

She lifted the book, wiping the dust and dirt from it.

When she turned, she saw Tosha standing watch at the back door of the diner.

Darlene walked up to her, clutching the black book.

"What are you going to do with that?" Tosha asked evenly.

"I'm going to read to the old man until he's gone," Darlene said.

Tosha looked away. "He's gone. I'm letting John have a moment."

Darlene started to cry. "Then I'll read so his spirit can hear me." She went inside and stopped at the entrance to the dining room.

John was cradling his father and sobbing.

Darlene went to the far side of the dining area and sat down, putting her back to the wall to spread out. She could feel the baby kicking.

She turned to the Book of Revelation, which she thought was fitting in this day and age.

Revelation 14:13
 
And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” “Blessed indeed,” says the Spirit, “that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!”
Darlene began to sob, closing the book and putting it on the broken table next to her. She wanted to go to John and throw her arms around him, but knew he needed his space right now. She could hear him whispering to his fallen father, and she felt guilty for trying to eavesdrop on the words.

The baby kicked again, doubling Darlene over. It was the best (or worst?) one yet. The kid wanted to come out, and Darlene knew it would be sooner rather than later.

Much sooner.

"John," she whispered and looked down.

Tosha walked back inside and stared at Darlene dumbfounded.

"John," Darlene said louder. "I need you. John…"

John looked up, wiping his eyes.

"My water broke. I'm going to have our baby," Darlene said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty Six

 

 

"Do you see what I see?" Ben sang it off-key.

"Yes," Russ said quietly. He shut the engine off and looked around. There were three Harley Davidson motorcycles parked on the side of a building. They looked completely out of place. "Only three? I figured The Lich Lord would send a dozen men to catch us."

"Maybe he did. Maybe there's another group to catch Darlene. We might have twenty riders out looking for her and us," Bri said. She opened her door. "I need to stretch my legs. And we need to find out where they're hiding."

"We stay within sight of each other and the car," Russ said.

"And in sight of me. You don't want me crawling away, right? I'm sure I’d get the hang of it and maybe find one of those Red Ryder wagons. How cool would I look then? Cruising down the road like a kid," Ben said.

"Is she close?" Bri asked.

Ben put his arms out and raised his palms up, and began chanting.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Bri asked. She walked back to the car and tapped on the roof with her pistol. "What are you doing?"

Ben opened his eyes and grinned. "Fucking with you."

"Language," Russ admonished.

"Shit, she curses like a damn sailor. I'm an adult. And dead," Ben said.

"Is she close?" Russ asked.

"Yes. I'd guess she was within a mile of our position. But I'm feeling the baby strongly now. I think the pup is about to hatch." Ben clapped. "We need to search the stores for a present for the child."

"Can you sense anyone else close by?" Bri asked.

Ben shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. I don't think."

"The Lich Lord had that power. He could tell where everyone was within three miles," Bri said. "You're obviously not as powerful."

"Ouch. That really hurt," Ben said. "You go and find your buddies and I'll try to increase my powers to help you survive. Sound like a deal?"

"We're wasting time," Russ said. "I'll go check out the Pizza Hut and you look into the doors of the strip mall stores."

He watched Bri walk away and, for the hundredth time since they'd left Main Street, worried about her. She was growing up way too fast out on the run, and he didn't like it. She would be old and cold within a month if this kept up.

The Pizza Hut was trashed. It looked like even the pizza boxes had been taken. Only a couple of destroyed ones were on the broken counter.

Russ went to the back, leading with his pistol and flashlight, even though the natural light was fine with all the busted out windows and the back of the building's roof missing. The debris covered what Russ assumed were the bathrooms and office. Maybe there were still items they could use in there: toilet paper and maybe food.

A busted cell phone, covered in dried blood, greeted him on the nearest table. He went to reach for it but didn't know why. Old habit? It was in pieces. The battery was probably dead, anyway.

Russ thought of his parents back in New Jersey. He hoped they were still alive. They were tough people. If he had one wish (besides them being safe,) it would be to talk to both of them one last time and tell them how much he missed and loved them. His wife and sister, as well.

He turned away from the phone before he got too emotional. There was no time for it right now. They had a mission. He was sure Jeff and his gang were about to spring a trap for them.

Bri was going from store to store, peeking in and using the flashlight to look around. Russ could see her through the gaping hole in the back of the Pizza Hut.

One of the pizza ovens was still intact but closed. Russ put a hand on the handle but hesitated. What if it contained a zombie? It was big enough for a person to hide in. What if he opened it and a swarm of rats poured out?

BOOK: Dying Days 4
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