Floyd & Mikki (Book 1): Zombie Hunters (Love Should Be Explosive!) (3 page)

Suddenly, a light flipped on, shattering the total darkness. Floyd had to blink a few times to adjust. Then he got the shock of his life.

“Holy crap! You’re a girl!” he exclaimed, noticing the obviously feminine figure for the first time. He removed his facemask.

“No shit, Sherlock. You figure that out all on your own, did ya?”

She wasn’t just a girl. She was a hot girl! What the hell? She spoke with a southern drawl that Floyd couldn’t quite place. It certainly wasn’t Texas. Tennessee? Georgia, maybe?

She wore short, tight jeans that she had cut off right at the top of the thigh and a T-shirt cut off just below her ample breasts. She removed the football helmet to reveal light blonde hair tied into unbraided pigtails. Two fountains of yellow hair tied with rubber bands erupting from the sides of her head. She wore pink cowboy boots—or cowgirl boots—and the stem of a Dum Dum lollipop was sticking out of the side of her mouth.

If it weren’t for the size of her chest and the granite gaze in her eyes, Floyd would have thought she was about 15. Whoever she was, she sure knew her way around a shotgun and was far more mature than her young face would indicate. In a saner world, she would have been safe at home, playing with dolls or getting all dolled up herself in some fancy dress for the prom, instead of sneaking out after curfew to kill undead monsters. Buffy the Zombie Slayer.

“How old are you?” Floyd asked.

“Old enough!” she snapped back. “But don’t get any funny ideas or I’ll gut you like a fish and cut you into bait!”

Ignoring the mixed metaphor, Floyd knew by the look on her face that she wasn’t kidding. He began to seriously wonder what he had gotten himself into.

“Hey, no problem!” he insisted, throwing up his hands in surrender. “I’m Floyd. What’s your name?”

“Mikki.”

“Mikki, huh? What is that, short for Michelina or Michelle or somethi-”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mikki was up in his face screaming at him with a large, evil-looking combat knife that she seemed to have pulled out of nowhere pointed at his throat.

“Don’t you call me Michelle! Don’t you never call me Michelle! You hear me? I’ll cut of your balls, stuff ‘em in your mouth and sew up your lips! We clear?”

“We’re clear! We’re clear!” Floyd stammered. When Mikki retreated, Floyd carried on. “Damn, girl! In case you haven’t noticed, we’re on the same side here.”

Mikki paused and looked him over carefully before saying, “Maybe. We’ll see about that.”

“So what were you doing out there anyway?

“Shopping.”

“Shopping?”

“Yeah, shopping! You think cans of food just grow legs and walk their way down here by theyselves?”

“I guess not.” Floyd also guessed that hunting zombies every day hadn’t exactly taught her much in the way of manners, either, but he kept that thought to himself. “So what’s with the flashlight?” he asked, pointing to the shotgun by the door.

“It’s a strobe light,” Mikki corrected him. She had taped it to the barrel along with several big batteries and rigged a couple of wires down to a pushbutton on the stock. It looked like she had scavenged a doorbell button from somewhere and hooked it up to the light.

“Don’t you know zombies hate light?” Floyd asked. “They bust ‘em whenever they can.”

“I know a shitload more about zombies than you do, Bubba.”

“The name is
Floyd
, and I seriously doubt that!”

“Oh, really? Deer in the headlights.”

“Say what, now?”

“Deer...in...the...headlights!” Mikki repeated, slowly, explaining it to him like he was five years old. “You know what happens to a deer when it sees the headlights of a car comin’, right?”

“Of course I do. They freeze.”

“Exactly! Deer...in...the...headlights! Creepers is attracted to the light because they hate it, but if you slam ‘em in the eyes with a bright light, it confuses the hell out of ‘em. They freeze up for a bit. More than long enough to get off a well-aimed shot.”

Floyd refused to admit it out loud, but she was right. He had never thought of that. It was positively brilliant, so he did what any self-respecting man would do in his situation: he changed the subject.

“Speaking of light, how do get that light bulb in here to work? There hasn’t been any electricity in these parts for over a year.”

“I scrounge car batteries whenever I find ‘em. I got a whole stack of ‘em back there. I wire a few together at a time, connect the right voltage light bulb, and there you go. I never did so good in school, but I learned to read. Found a book on basic electricity and a few other things that come in handy over the years. Sit yerself down! On that chair over there. I don’t want you near me.”

Just my luck
, thought Floyd.
I finally find someone who’s not a walking corpse, and she’s some kinda psychobitch from hell
. Still, she was pretty damn smart and resourceful. Sure, she was incredibly hot to look at, but her attitude killed any potential lust there might have been. Meanwhile, her brain seemed to be working overtime. As much as he tried to resist it, Floyd found himself respecting her more and more.

“So is it just you then?” he asked. “You all on your own?”

“I told you, Mister...”

“Yeah, yeah! I know! Fish bait! Don’t flatter yourself, honey. You ain’t my type.”

Now Mikki was insulted, and she showed it. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Well, I like a spirited woman, but I ain’t exactly turned on by one who threatens to cut my balls off!”

Mikki looked stunned for a bit, then burst out laughing. “OK, fair enough. Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Mikki.” She held out her hand, introducing herself again in a more amicable fashion.

“Nice to meet you Mikki. I’m Floyd.” He shook her hand politely, if a bit warily. He wasn’t sure if he’d get all of his fingers back.

“There! Now we’re all friendly like.”

She threw away the finished lollipop stick and lit up a cigarette. She offered one to Floyd, but he waved it away.

“I don’t smoke.”

“Well, I do!” she said, taking a long drag and holding it in before slowly blowing out a long stream of smoke. “So what are you supposed to be, some kinda Knight in Plastic Armor?”

“Something like that,” Floyd replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “I’d rather look goofy wearing a ton of plastic than get bitten by one of those brain-eaters.”

“Zombies don’t really eat brains, ya know. That’s a myth.”

“Of course I know! I call ‘em brain-eaters after all those old monster movies. You know? Where they wander around going, ‘Braaaaaiiiiins!’”

“Yeah, them movies never made a lick o’ sense. I mean, why would you need to eat if you was dead? And what happens after? Can you imagine a bunch of zombies takin’ a poop? Now there’s a thought for ya! No, they loves to bite to spread the infection, but they don’t eat nothin’.”

“How do you know so much about zombies anyway?”

“This.” Mikki tossed a weather-beaten book at Floyd. He caught it in midair and looked at the title.
The Zombie Apocalypse Survival Handbook: How to Live with the Undead
.

“You’re kidding, right?” Floyd asked.

“Hey, that’s my bible!” Mikki snarled, snatching it back. “Kept me alive all these years.”

“What about your family? What happened to your parents?”

“Dead,” she answered, coldly.

“Oh, sorry. I should have guessed that.”

“Oh, stuff yer pity! Momma died givin’ birth to me, and I killed my bastard old man when he tried puttin’ his hands on me when I was 12. Stuck him like a pig, the drunken asshole. He was always callin’ me a whore, tellin’ me I wasn’t no good. Then one day he grabs me from behind and tries pullin’ my clothes off. I grabbed a steak knife and turned him into a prime cut of beef. Right in the tenderloin. Haha!”

Well, that explained a lot!
Floyd thought, as Mikki continued.

“I ran, hitchin’ rides wherever I could. Found work in diners or gas stations along the way. Of course, the cops found my pa’s body and started right after me. Sooner or later my face would turn up on the news, or some cop would show up looking for me, and I was off and runnin’ again.

“Didn’t help that a few other guys tried to make me pay for a ride
their
way. I didn’t even kill none o’ them, but by God, I left my mark on ‘em. Cops called me the ‘Psycho Teen Hitchhiker.’ How do ya like that? These perverts try havin’ their way with a defenseless girl on the interstate and all of a sudden
I’m
the psycho! Then these zombie creepers start appearin’ outta nowhere and everyone else ends up dead—or worse. Crazy-ass world.” Mikki took another drag on her cigarette as she finished her story.

Yup. Crazy-ass world, indeed.
Explains a LOT
, Floyd thought again. He couldn’t really blame her, either. Although “defenseless” was NOT a word Floyd would ever use to describe her!

Mikki sat on the couch watching Floyd squirm in his chair. She had to laugh inside. No, she had nothing to worry about with this one. Besides, he was kind of cute, in an outdoorsy, redneck sort of way. And he knew how to handle his weaponry. In this day and age, that was a big plus in a man.

Of course, he was still more than twice her age. He had to be in his forties. He was about six foot tall and fairly skinny, but built solid and strong like a pack mule to carry all that crap on him. And it was good crap, too. He clearly had modified the shotgun and put that strappy bandolier thing together himself. He was a good shot and was nobody to mess with, yet he hadn’t tried anything funny with her. Not
yet
, anyway.

“So how about you?” It was Mikki’s turn to ask some questions. “What brings you out this way? Leave a wife and 10 babies back East somewhere?”

“No. What brought me out here is my truck. Parked it just outside of town. Turned all the lights off so the brain-eaters will leave it alone. No wife, no kids. Was an auto mechanic back in Texas ‘til the whole town went zombie on me. Haven’t seen anyone alive for over a year now. How about you?”

“Nope, me neither. Had one fellah I wandered around a bit with for a couple months. Older fellah, like you, but he wasn’t too smart. He got sloppy and got bit, so I had to put him down. Made it through the woods, sleepin’ in the daytime and killin’ anything in my way at night until I stumbled on this place about a week ago. It ain’t on any map.”

“I know. I woulda blown right by this place, but I took a look through my binoculars to check it out and I saw your light flashing on and off. Had to check it out. You think there are any more of those creatures out there?”

“No doubt. Found a sign on my way in that said, ‘Welcome to Jackson Town, population 275.’ I’ve taken out about 50 of the local residents so far, including tonight, so I figure there’s about 225 more wandering the town and the woods somewhere. Assuming they ever updated that sign. I figure this was a speed-trap town. Found a zombie cop in a police cruiser near the interstate. I blew his brains out with a pistol and took his shotgun.”

“So why didn’t you wait until morning to go ‘shopping,’ when it’s reasonably safer?”

“Had to test out the new addition to my shotgun. Strobe lights don’t spook the creepers in bright daylight, ya know. Besides, it ain’t much safer in the daytime. Whoever lived here is still in these buildings. And you gotta admit, it was damn fun tonight!”

The look on Floyd’s face made her laugh out loud. “Oh, come on! You cain’t tell me you don’t love it, blowin’ zombie brains all over creation.”

“No! I don’t love it. I hate it. It scares the living crap out of me! I do what I gotta do to stay alive, but I’m scared to death that any moment one of those creepers is gonna bite me and then it’s game over.”

For once, Mikki turned deadly serious. She even looked...a little scared. “I know. I try not to think about that. Promise me something, will ya, Floyd?”

Floyd wasn’t sure he should answer, but he hesitantly replied, “What’s that, Mikki?”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, “If I ever get bit...promise you’ll kill me, Floyd?”

“On one condition, Mikki.”

“What’s that, Floyd?”

“You do the same for me.”

Floyd opened his eyes to see a faint crack of light streaming in from between the heavy storm cellar doors above. He had slept on a surprisingly comfortable old couch. Mikki was still sleeping in a small bed loaded with pillows, blankets, and a large pile of stuffed animals. Her favorite was clearly a plush Hello Kitty doll, to which she had fiercely clung all night. He didn’t dare take a closer look, but he thought certain she sucked her thumb. Mikki was still snoring softly.

Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket, Floyd took the opportunity to look around the place. On a table by the bed was a huge mirror, plus a wide assortment of makeup. Mikki clearly had a fondness for deep red lipstick and nail polish, while her eye shadow colors spanned the entire spectrum of the rainbow.

She also had a fondness for weaponry and tinkering. Several books on electricity, mechanics, and even medicine were stacked sloppily on a makeshift workbench, along with a hodgepodge of tools, wire, string, screws, and everyone’s favorite: duct tape. Her arsenal included a set of brass knuckles, a variety of knives, a machete, several handguns, and boxes of ammunition. Her shotgun was within arm’s reach of her pillow, leaning against the wall next to her bed.

The room wasn’t too large and there were no dividing walls, but there was one door that led to a toilet. The water was rancid but functioned well enough for its purpose. Water treatment plants had ceased functioning along with the rest of civilization. Floyd was lucky. The water at his recent base camp must have come from an underground well or spring or something because the water was actually drinkable.

One set of stairs led up to the outside cellar doors, while another set at the opposite end of the room led up to a door that presumably opened into the building. The door was heavily barred with wooden planks nailed over it and metal bars propped against it. Given what Mikki had said last night, some of the town’s residents were likely still on the other side of that door. Floyd didn’t blame her for being cautious.

The surprise of the morning was the box of dynamite tucked into one corner, complete with a roll of fuse wire. Mikki must have learned somewhere that you need to turn the sticks every so often to prevent the explosives from degrading, because everything was still in good shape. Floyd wasn’t sure which was more unstable…Mikki or the dynamite. She also had several boxes of firecrackers and a few unopened boxes of glow sticks.

A loud groan came from Mikki’s bed, followed by an even louder yawn. Several bones in her young body creaked and popped as she stretched. “Mornin’ already?” she asked wearily, glancing in Floyd’s direction.

“Yup,” Floyd answered.

“So what’s the plan for today, Sherlock?”

“Same plan as every day. Shoot anything that moves and don’t get bit,” Floyd answered grimly.

“Good plan,” she said, sitting up with a big smile on her face. “Hey! Wanna help me clear out some of these buildings? There’s a hardware store with some great tools we can use, plus some bear traps…huntin’ knives…”

“What, no chainsaw?”

“Oh, come on! You know chainsaws ain’t no good for creepers. Too damn loud. Bring every one of those freaks down on us.”

“Yeah, I guess. Well, I gotta be heading out. Left my truck at the top of the hill. Best to make my way back to it while the sun is out.”

“And go where? There ain’t nothin’ out there.”

“I heard a radio signal a while back about a safe area in California. I’m making my way there now. Gotta get back on the road. Thanks for the couch—”

“Take me with you!” Mikki cried, jumping up from the bed and bounding over to Floyd.

“What?” he stammered, “Sorry, I can’t. I got no room in the truck. I barely make it when it’s just me.”

“Oh, come on! You stopped off here for a reason. Why’d you come lookin’ if you didn’t want to find no one?”

If things had been different, Floyd would have jumped at the chance to have such a hot chick tag along with him, but he knew this chick was nothing but trouble. Psychologically unstable with a real bad attitude—not a good combination. The last thing he needed was some tenuous teenager who loved combat knives and corpses. OK, the last thing he needed was to be bit by some brain-eater. The second-to-the-last-thing he needed was some tenuous teenager who loved combat knives and corpses.

He wanted to get as far away as possible from this chick as soon as possible. He was frankly afraid of her, and he was too afraid to tell her he was afraid of her. Besides, a human being needs to drink about a gallon of water a day. Another person meant double the required water, which meant double the weight to carry. Not to mention additional food, etc. No. It just wasn’t worth it, but he couldn’t tell her that. He stumbled and fumbled for an answer.

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t even know if this place is there. It’s too dangerous to bring a girl along.”

“Oh, but it’s not too dangerous to leave a defenseless girl alone in a town fulla creepers?”

“You’re hardly what I call defenseless. Besides, you don’t want to miss all the fun around here, remember?”

“But you just got here! Cain’t you stay just a day or two?”

“No, I really gotta go.”

Floyd was torn. He didn’t want this whack-job of a girl tagging along, even if she was pretty good with a shotgun. On the other hand, he couldn’t really leave her alone in a town full of zombies.

“Wait a minute! I have an idea,” he said, heading over to a stack of papers near the workbench. He pulled out a large paper. “You drew this?”

“Sure did.”

“Is it accurate?”

“I ain’t the greatest artist but I draw a mean map. Yeah, it’s pretty accurate.”

“So all these doors on here are in the right place? And these walls?”

Mikki looked over Floyd’s shoulder at the map and nodded. He was clearly interested in the old city hall. It was a fairly big building for such a tiny town, no doubt to host the parade of unlucky drivers caught trying to speed by the place in the past. It had a front reception area, a clerk’s window and rather large courtroom on the upper floor.

“Where’s the roof access?” he asked.

“Don’t know if there is one,” she answered.

“Oh, there is one. It’s got a dome. There’s always roof access if there’s a dome. Someone has to get up there to get to the flagpole.”

“OK, so what?”

“So, maybe we can find a way to get rid of these brain-eaters. All of ‘em. Then you’ll have the town all to yourself.”

Mikki smiled. “What you got in mind?”