Southern Zombies Three Book Box Set: A Story of Survival, Southern Hospitality, and Southern Blood (5 page)

Yes, I know I am digressing, but sometimes you have to wonder what the hell people are thinking.

So at this point, Janice has gotten on Diane’s last nerve and is riding mine to the finish line. She has complained and bitched about not being comfortable, not having enough room, needing to stop and take a restroom break. I keep reminding her it’s a squat break as we have no damn restrooms to stop at.

Diane checks the map and says, “Almost there. About another 25 miles. How are we going to go about this?”

“I have no idea yet.” I tell her.

We find a place to stop for an hour to rest and I decide to make a call into Marc on the radios. I want to let him know we are almost there and where we are, so if he needs to come haul our asses out, he can.

“Anyone on?” I ask into the handset.

“Hello?” comes back.

“Hey Trey, is your daddy close around?” I ask

“Who is this?” he asks.

Really? I think.

“Tracie.” I reply.

“Who?” Trey asks.

“For fuck’s sake Trey. It’s your damn Aunt Tracie. How many aunts named Tracie do you have?” I ask.

“Daddy, Aunt Tracie is on the radio and is being a bitch.” Trey yells.

“I’m kicking your ass when we get home mister.” I tell him.

“What’s up?” Marc asks. “Have you guys got to Richmond yet?”

“Almost. We are about 25 miles out. We stopped to let you know what was going on so if you needed to come get us you would know where to head to.” I tell him.

“How is my truck? Still in one piece?” Marc asks.

“Um, yeah?” I say.

“What the hell?” I knew I should have kept it here and made you and mom go in your car. I just got that truck and it didn’t have a scratch anywhere. Damn, damn.” He says.

“Hey!!! I would think you would be worried about your aunt and mom, not the damn truck. That can be fixed, we can’t. And I think I can safely say, it has more than a scratch now.” I reply sheepishly.
“Son of a bitch.” Marc yells.

Diane is staring at me. “I think we will not go home, just keep driving until we are far away from the ravings of a vehicle enthusiast. No need to throw gas on the fire.” Diane says.

“I think you may be right.” I tell her.

I give Marc the closest address I can come up with since Bobby could not tell me exactly where the office is he is hiding in. Marc writes this down as we talk and asks me, “How bad is it out there?”

“Bad,” I tell him. “It is unbelievable unless you see it for yourself. Never would I have thought some shit like this would go down. But clearly, things you read all your life can come to fruition at some point.”

“Shit. How are you going to go in and get Bobby? Have you guys made a plan yet?” he asks.

“No, not yet. I was waiting until we see what type and how big the office is before we plan it out. I don’t want to make a plan and have to make another one when we get there.” I tell Marc.

“Makes sense.” He says.

“Unwanted attention coming our way. We have about ten coming for dinner.” I tell him.

“That’s fucking gross.” He tells me.

“Whatever. It is what it is. They are coming to dinner and we are the main course. So we are going to get it packed in and ready to go. We will call you again before we move into get Bobby.” I say.

“Fine, I will be waiting.” Marc says.

“And keep Trey off the radio. The boy has issues. He seems to think we were chatting like an apocalypse is not going on and then acts like he has more than one Aunt named Tracie.” I say.

“Like father, like son.” Marc replies laughing.

“Finally, something we both agree on.” I tell him with a snort.

“Love you guys and we will be in touch. Your mom says bye and she will be the one calling you next time.” I tell him.

“Ok.” Marc says. “Bye and don’t put any more dents in my damn truck or I am going to kick………”

I cut him off before he can finish so I don’t have to hear the threats to my well-being for denting his truck.

“Well, that’s a bitch.” Diane says.

I look up. Zombies. Everywhere. In front and behind us.

“What now? Do we try to drive off or start shooting?” Diane asks. “Well, if we try to drive off, and we hit them, they could damage the radiator then we would be walking. And Marc would kill me.” I tell her.

“Janice, you start banging on the windshield. Diane, start banging with her. I am going to climb through the back window when you guys get their attention to the front of the truck. Then I am going to get on the ground and try to take out some of them while their attention is on you two.” I say.

Diane starts banging. Janice asks, “Is this a good idea?”

“We are not going through this shit again Janice. Start banging or get your ass out and distract them.” I yell at her.

She starts banging.

I get out the back window, slide down the side of the truck bed and drop onto the ground.

“What the hell was I thinking? Was I even thinking at all? I have lost it now.” I think to myself.

I slowly duck walk you to the driver side door. “Damn, I should be on the passenger side since there is still a mirror over there and I could use it as a gun rest.”

So I take aim. The first shot hits home. The second, not so much. I hit one zombie in the leg and it fell towards me. “Way to go dumb ass.” I pull the stock of the gun up and hit it in the side of the head, and it stays down. At this point I start aiming and firing, trying to thin some of the walkers out. I back up some to get a better aim on a few that have noticed there is a buffet at the side of the truck.

I continue to take out some of the closer zombies and by now am covered in…. Goo? What else can I call it? Nasty shit? Stinky stuff? The only way to describe it is if you imagine you eat some rotten burritos, cankered, pus filled beef and threw down some rotten eggs with it, and it exploded. Do you need further elaboration?

With about 5 zombies still stumbling towards me, I back up to draw them away from the truck. I get about 20 feet from the back of the truck and take aim again knocking two more off. Great, three to go I think. One more shot and I got two left.

These two have made their way behind me. They are planning. If they can. Can they? I didn’t want to wait and see. They started moving a little faster than I thought possible. And so did I.

Diane is in the back of the truck firing her 44. I hope she don’t wing me.

“Coming in hot!” I yell.

“What the hell does that even mean?” Diane asks.

“It means keep shooting, damn it.” I yell back.

Is it necessary to explain what this means when she can pretty much look and see what the hell I mean by “coming in hot?”

When I get to the truck, I grab a hand hold onto, yep, you guessed it, the side rail on the truck bed.

“Well, that should make Marc happy. Should I break off the other side to match this one?” I ask Diane.

She just looks and me and says, “It sucks to be you.”

“Really?” “That’s the best you got?” I ask.

As we get back in the truck, Riley licks my arm. “Thanks Fuzzybutt.” I tell him.

“Can we go now?” Janice asks.

“Oh well, I am so sorry for your damn inconvenience of sitting in a vehicle while Tracie and I were trying to get a path cleared out for us to leave. By all means, yeah, we can go now.” Diane says sarcastically.

Would it be wrong if I put her out at the next zombie crossing? Janice, I mean.

Finally, we reach Richmond.

“We used to live here. You should know where things are located.” I tell Diane.

“That was forty years ago smart ass and I'm sure things have changed in that time.” Diane says.

“We are looking for Richmond Blinds. Bobby said it was a multi-level brick building.” I tell Diane. “Well, that narrows it down.” She tells me.

“Let's pull over and see if we can find an office that we can get into and find a phone book. That way we can look for the address of his office instead of wasting time looking”. I say

“Sounds good.” Janice and Diane say.

We find a doctor’s office that looks to have been broken into as the glass is broken out in the door. All we need is a phone book. Surely that can't be that hard, right?

I step out of the truck and look around, then Diane gets out. We make Janice stay in the truck because I'm not in the mood for whining at this point. Riley gives me a look as if he's asking can he go. I tell him I'll be right back and he sneezes at me. I think that may be equal to a snort in his mind.

“I'll go in first and you cover me. I'll go to the left and you come in toward the right.” Diane says.

“Ok.” I tell her.

We turn to go in, and the horn blows in the truck. “What the hell is she doing? Is she stupid or just trying to get us killed? Can I shoot her in the foot?” I say to Diane.

“There are zombies coming from the corner, she was trying to tell us, and no you can't shoot her.” Diane says.

“Damn, she could have rolled down the window and said quietly, I see zombies.” I say.

“That's funny”. Diane replies.

“What? That she's trying to get us killed or that I want to shoot her in the foot?” I ask.

“The part when you said she could have told us “I see zombies. It reminds me of that movie where that little boy says “I see dead people.” Diane tells me.

“Am I traveling with the peanut gallery?” I ask.

“Let's get in before they get here because I don't feel like this shit right now.” I say.

So we go in. And it's dark. We only need to walk a few feet to the front desk. I watch the door and Diane walks over to the desk and starts looking for a phone book. “Check the drawers on the desk and around the phone.” I tell her. “Yep.” Diane says.

She finds the phone book and we start back outside. “We got company. Looks like they are coming from the building at the corner.” I say.

“Ok, if we shoot, more will come. So get out your knife. Do you have your bat?” Diane asks.

“Why, yes I do. Hanging across my back.” I say.

“When did you make that?” Diane asks.

“The other night when you were sick. Marc has tools in the back so I found some leather and bolts to make a bat sling. Works good.” I tell her.

“There goes another burr in his ass. You being in his toolbox, that is.” Diane says.

“Well, I may as well take advantage since I won't get to drive it again if he has anything to do with it. So what the hell. May as well get him good and pissed off.” I say.

I walk out and take a swing, knocking the first zombie on her ass. Diane comes at the next one with her gun stock. We make our way to the truck and get in and pull off to find a place to park that does not have a crowd congregating.

We drive about a mile and pull over at a convenience store. I tell Diane we need to try to get some gas if possible. Diane climbs through the back window into the truck and starts uncapping the tanks. It looks like someone has already been here and left in a hurry because as I am looking I see a manual hand pump that you can pump out gas with. I grab is and get it started in the tanks Diane has open.

I leave the tank filling to Diane and get the phone book and find the address where Bobby is. There is also a city map in the front so it shows me we are about a quarter of a mile from where he is. All the while we have groupies surrounding us and we don’t have much time before we will be blocked in.

I help Diane get the tanks and cans capped and I take the hand pump from her. Then an idea. Yeah, it may not be good, but it isn’t any worse than being lunch for some munchers coming our way.

“What are you doing?” Diane asks.

“Well, I was planning on making a Molotov cocktail. Do you know how?” I ask Diane.

“Why hell no.” She replies. “I never tried to blow anything up.”

“Well, lucky for you, I am going to give you a lesson. And since I don’t know either, we can learn together. Now, in the movies….”

“That’s your first problem.” Diane says.

“What?” I ask.

“You are going by what you see in the movies, and that never turns out good.” Diane says.

“Anyway, in the MOVIES, I stress, I have seen them put gas in a bottle, stick a piece of cloth in it, and light it on fire, then throw the bottle. And it explodes.” I say.

“Yeah?” She questions.

“So, if I can get it to explode, we can take out about 100 fans that are amassing around us.” I tell her.

“OK?” Again, a question from her.

“Give me a damn lighter. Get ready to drive and when I say go, you floor it and don’t stop.” I say.