Hissers II: Death March (11 page)

“How you doing?” the man asked.

“Life could be better,” Olive replied. “Where you headed?”

“East. Chicago. Trying to get to my ex-wife.
That there in the car is our daughter. I had her for the summer. She was supposed to start kindergarten, you know, but there ain’t no flights back. There ain’t no schools open that I can tell for that matter neither. Pretty much it’s pandemonium. Least where I came from.”

“Which is from where?”

“Tucson. Arizona. Name’s Dean by the way. Dean Heater.”

“Olive
,” she said. “We’re headed west. Is it bad? Them things out there?”

“Yeah. Yeah.
Things.
That’s about the best description for them, I suppose. It was okay until a couple days ago. I mean we’d lost power and communication and cell phones and stuff, even the police radios were off line, and we’d heard rumors about what was going on, unbelievable as they sounded. Some army guys came in for a day or two but they took off on some orders and never came back. After that, we were all meeting in the pubs and stuff trying to get news, and then fewer and fewer people started showing up. Figured they were just giving up, going home and sleeping. But then they showed back up as those murdering monsters. I don’t know what the hell happened but it happened fast.”

“It’s all over the country, mister,” Connor said. “What about
California, San Diego and stuff? Is it bad there?”

“Couldn’t tell you. But I can tell you once those things get ahold of you they either kill you dead or you g
o yellow in the eyes and start eating people. Saw my buddy Willie eat his own wife’s face off. I grabbed my girl and my gun and got the hell out. Could see the neighborhood going up in flames as I left. Someone must have shot a gas main or something, I don’t know. It was just a fireball behind me. So yeah, it’s no good back there. I did just see a fighter jet, though. Maybe they’re going to help.”

“We saw it too. German
.”

Dean adjusted his hat. “Really? Shit. Ain’t that ironic. Them coming to fight on our land.”

“Guess we take whatever help we can get,” Olive said.

Connor bi
t his tongue; no use explaining his contempt for the military to Dean. The man wouldn’t understand.

“So now what?” Dean asked. “You still gonna go west? You got a place to go out there?”

“We’re on a bit of a mission,’ Olive answered. “First, though, I’m trying to get to my mom’s. Ain’t heard from her in days. Considering what you just told me, I’m kinda worried. More than kinda, actually. Pretty frigging worried.”

Dean stood still in the road, everyone looking up and down the macadam for approaching strangers. Finally
Dean pointed back the way he’d come. “Saw a truck stop and diner just a few miles up. It looked deserted but I didn’t want to risk it with just my girl. But together…if you two are hungry it might be worth a look. Ideally I’d like to find a CB radio. Truck stops like that usually have ’em. You might want one as well. You got ammo?”

“We’ve got some,”
Olive replied. “Could use more, I guess. Truck stops sell bullets?”

Dean shook his head. “Usually
no. But you never know. Nothing else, they’ll have knives and stuff.”

“Getting a
CB isn’t a bad idea,” Connor said. Right now they were pretty much flying blind, and with Dean’s tale of what lay ahead, it would be worth risking a trip to the truck stop if it could get them more news about California.

“Okay, we’ll follow you
back there,” Olive said. “When we get there, you watch our back and we’ll watch yours.”

“
No sweat. Long as my little girl stays safe, I’m with you.”

FRIDAY, 2:12 PM

The van finally started to slow down, and Amanita prepared to open the door and leap out, but before she could get close to it, Spider Neck came into the back, a bowie knife in his hand, and motioned her toward the rear. “Scoot. Go on. Move.”

Trying to stay as small as po
ssible, she slid toward the back. There were no double doors here like in most vans. Just a small tinted window that was covered in dirt.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Never you mind.”

“Can I have my back pack? I think I can walk from here.”

“You ain’t walking nowhere. And no you can’t have your backpack.”

The van stopped.
The driver got out and Amanita could hear him walking along the side of the vehicle, boots crunching on rocks and leaves. Then the sided door slid open and she saw his face for the first time. Old, leathery skin covering a gaunt face. He had a teardrop tattoo under his right eye.  Like his buddy, he too had a beard, though this was mostly from not shaving rather than actively growing it. He wore a black t-shirt that said BIKERS LAW on it. “Alrighty now, everybody out,” he said.

Spider Neck waved for Ama
nita to move, so she slinked past him and got out. As soon as her feet hit the ground she ran, seeing nothing but trees around her. But she only made it a couple steps before she felt Teardrop’s big hand on her shirt, yanking her back. She fell to the ground at his feet, her lips shivering in fear.

“Please just let me go,” she begge
d. “I didn’t do anything to you. I won’t tell anyone. Please just let me leave.” She gulped for breath, knowing she was about to be raped or killed or both.

“We told you
, you’re not going anywhere. Nowhere to go anyway. We’re in the mountains. But this is where it’s safe believe it or not. We got people here to protect you.”

“I just want to go home. Please let me go.”

“Aw hell, just grab her,” Spider Neck said.

With that, Teardrop yanked
her up to her feet and shoved her forward, keeping one hand on her shirt. Her legs barely obeyed her and every three steps she thought she might fall. Behind her, she heard the van door slide closed as Spider Neck started following them.

She scanned the woods as she was directed forward. There truly was nothing but trees. No paths, no cabins, and though they had to be close to a road, she heard no cars going
by. The best she could think of was to run back past the van and keep going, hope she hit some kind of highway. That is, if she could get away.

“What’s your name, girl?” Teardrop asked.

Amanita had no intention of giving her name. If they were going to kill her she would not give them the pleasure of knowing who she was. “Fuck you,” she answered.

“Ho ho! A smart mouth. I like that. You’re cute and feisty. Harold is gonna love you.”

“Har…Harold? Who’s Harold?”

“Oh, Harold owns this land. You’ll meet him in a few minutes. But best you give me your name now. Otherwise we may have to get it out of you later in a less pleasant way.
”

“It’s Carol,” she said.

“No it ain’t. Ain’t no young thing like you named Carol. This ain’t 1966. What’re you like a Kaitlyn or a Brittany or something? You got that young cheerleader look going on. C’mon, we told you we ain’t gonna hurt you. Fact you’ll probably be happy we saved your cute little ass. Now what’s your name?”

Amanita hesitated. She could see in his eyes he wouldn’t believe anything but the truth or something close to it. He squeezed her arm so hard her mouth came open in agony. “Amanita! It’s Amanita.”

“That sounds fake, too” said Spider Neck.

Teardrop let go of her arm. “Yeah, but sounds too fake to be really fake. What’re you, like half African or something. They all got them dumb names like
Labamba and Tequila and stuff.”

“My parent
s were kind of hippies. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. I can see that, C’mon, keep moving. This way.”

They wandered farther into the woods, ducking branches and passing through dark shadows. Gnats and other bugs tried to fly up her nose so she kept her head down. Which was a lucky thing because now she could see the small orange dots spray painted at the bases of the trees, many of them almost covered by moss and leaves. They were some kind of markings meant to be hidden unless you knew what you were looking for. A trail, she realized. This was how they knew where they were going. This knowledge gave her hope. If she could slip away from them somehow, she could run back following the orange dots and hope to find the road.

Teardrop shoved her forward some more, making her turn at
points and forcing her to do a few half circles around large boulders. Always there was an orange dot somewhere nearby.

After what seemed like a good ten minute walk, they emerged into a
grassy clearing. Sitting in the middle of it was an archaic log cabin. On its right side she could see a woman hanging up clothes on a line. She wore a long blue dress and had long flowing blonde hair. As they approached, the woman turned, saw Amanita and her captors, and smiled. Then she went to the back door of the cabin, opened it, and yelled inside. “Harold! They’re back.”

“Wait here,” Teardrop said, forcing her to
stand still. Spider Neck stepped up behind her to ensure she couldn’t run away.

As Teardrop approached the back door, a man stepped out. He was wearing khaki pants, a blue button down shirt
with a black sweater vest, and loafers. His hair was neatly trimmed and his face was cleanly shaven.

“Jimmy,” he said, addressing Teardrop by his real name. “You’re back.”

“We are at that, Harold. We couldn’t find you that thing you wanted. But we found you this.” He pointed at Amanita.

“
What the…? My God the poor girl looks terrified. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing. We saved her, in fact. But she’s been fixing to run away this whole time and I told her we can’t be alerting them zombies out there to where you are.
That was your orders, remember? I figured you could take her in, give her some food and shelter. She was just running down the street being chased when we found her. Had a whole lot of them things right on her heels.”

“
I
saved her,” Spider Neck said triumphantly, holding up her backpack.

“Thank you, Chester,” Harold said. He approached Amanita and smiled with teeth too white to be real. “Hi, I’
m Harold. This is my home. As you can see, these two goons work for me and I apologize for the way they’ve treated you. They can be rough and abrasive, but they are hard workers. This here is my wife, Michelle.”

“Hello,” Michelle said,
back to hanging up fresh laundry on the line.

“What’s your name?” Harold asked.

“Her name’s Armadillo or something,” Spider Neck/Chester said.

“It’s not Armadillo, you retard,” Amanita said. “It’s Amanita. My parents were hippies
. So what?”

Harold rubbed his chin. “Ah yes, Amanita. Beautiful red mushrooms, I believe.”

“You’re named after fungus?” Jimmy/Teardrop asked.

Amanita scowled at him. “I’m surprised you know anything about fungus besides what’s in your ass.”

“Oh yeah, we forgot to tell you,” Jimmy said, “she’s kinda feisty.”

Harold waved them off. “Okay, you two get out of here. You’ve done enough.
Poor girl looks tired and scared.”

“What about our pay?”

“When you bring me what I asked for. Not before.”

“But we brought her.”

Harold nodded. “And I’ll take care of her. Properly. Like a gentleman. Not like you two. Now please leave us.”

Annoyed, Spider Neck dropped Amanita’s
backpack on the ground, and then both men headed back into the woods to follow the trail back to the van.

As Amanita watched them go, Michelle
came up and put her arm around her, directed her toward the house. “C’mon inside, we’ll get you cleaned up and fed and then we can discuss what your plans are.”

“I’d rather just leave,” Amanita said. “I don’t like being forced into
people’s homes. I was brought here against my will and I want to leave. Now.”

“Fair enough,” Harold said. “We were just trying to help. You’re free to go. There’s your backpack. But I’ll tell you this much, these woods are big and it’s a long way to civilization. If you wait until tomorrow I’ll drive you into town myself and you can be on your way. Promise.”

Amanita looked around, saw no cars. “With what car?”

“It’s parked back out near the road. Honest.”

“Then why wait, let’s go now.”

Michelle spoke up, “We can’t right now. It’s time for dinner.
It’s been cooking all day and we don’t waste around here, especially not since them monsters showed up.”

“We have mouths to feed,” said Harold. He yelled into the house. “Hey
, everybody, come on out and meet Amanita.”

Sl
owly, four people stepped out from the cabin in a neat line as if it were some sort of ritual. Two boys around ages ten and eleven, a small girl around six, and a teenage girl maybe a couple years older than Amanita. They all said hello.

“These are our children,” said Harold. “
Have you set the table, kids?”

They nodded in unison.

“And you’re welcome to have dinner with us,” Harold said to Amanita. “We also have a couple extra beds. I was you, I’d partake of the delicious meal we’ve prepared and get some rest. Like I said, I’ll drive you to town tomorrow. I promise.”

The youngest girl approached Amanita and took her hand. She wore pink bows in her hair and was dressed in a long white sundress. “I’m Kelly. You can sit with me. Is that okay, Daddy?”

“It’s up to Amanita,” Harold said, smiling at his daughter.

“Don’t worry, the little snot is harmless,” said the younger of the two boys. He didn’t offer his name. “She just likes attention.”

“That’ll be enough, Luke,” Harold warned the boy

“Will you sit with me?” Kelly asked again.

Amanita looked at the family. They were clean, friendly, hospitable. And yet, something was wrong. They were somehow unreal, as if they’d been modeled after nuclear families from children’s books. And of course the elephant in the room was staring back at her: why were they living in a hidden cabin in the woods. Were they just hiding from the hissers? Or had they always lived here? Beyond that, what was Harold paying those two goons to look for, and why did money even matter anymore? She was weighing whether or not to leave and walk through the woods when, for the first time, she smelled the aroma of barbecue coming from inside the house and it made her mouth water.

“It’s a brisket,” Michelle said, as if reading her mind. “It’
s been simmering all day.”

F
inally, realizing she would have both a roof over her head and food in her belly tonight, Amanita relented. “Okay, I’ll sit with you, Kelly. But tomorrow we go, right?” She looked at Harold.

“Promise,” he said. 

FRIDAY, 5:46 PM

The truck stop was silent, empty, and drenched in blood. The shelves had been ransacked and turned over a dozen times. People had grabbed what they could and fled, and the hissers had definitely come and gone too, but where they were now was a mystery.

There were no knives or bullets to be found
in any of the hunting supplies. It was possible they were buried under the piles of overturned shelves, but neither Connor nor anyone else was willing to rummage through it for fear of finding something they didn’t want to see, like a severed head or worse, a severed head that was still biting.

“Don’t
reach into areas you can’t see,” Connor had warned. “Use a pole or something.”