The Regulators - 02 (7 page)

We were all safely in the garage by the time the screams got
louder. I wasn’t too worried about the zombies massing around the gate. There
were plenty of elevated stands to shoot from if it came to that, and they’d
probably drift off by themselves anyway if they didn’t see anyone outside.

From the garage, we entered Georgie’s house. All the lights
were off except the one in the kitchen. I was leading the way with Georgie
right behind me. We held our weapons at the ready in case the place was
occupied by anything nasty.

We were entering the kitchen when something came hurtling
from the darkness beyond the bright kitchen light. It narrowly missed my left
ear, but it nailed Georgie right in the forehead, bounced off and shattered on
the floor.

All of us immediately ducked for cover. Except for Georgie,
he just sort of sat down after he got hit.

For about thirty seconds nobody moved.

Then we heard the laughter coming from the shadows. I looked
back towards Georgie and the broken glass all around his still form. The fucker
had nailed him with a beer bottle, and by the sound of our attacker, he thought
that was pretty damn amusing.

“If I had a gun, I could have shot all you pussies,” a voice
said that I immediately recognized.

I wasn’t happy. I was not happy at all. He was gonna be a
pain in the ass. The guy was a habitual line-stepper.

“Well, we weren’t exactly expecting you to start chunking
beer bottles at us, now were we?” I said as I stood up and motioned everyone
else to do the same.

Our attacker followed my example and stepped out from the
shadows and into the kitchen light. He was grinning from ear to ear. I heard
Georgie moan and Kingsley groan as they realized who it was.

“What the hell are you pussies doing here?” Nick said. “And
where in the Hell is Jaxon?”

Nick

Nick is a very large
man. I realized just how large the minute he walked into the room. I’ve seen
him in photos before, but photos simply do not do his size justice. He makes
all the other team members look rather small. According to Dudley, he’s even
taller than Kingsley who tops out close to 6’2. His arms were massive and his
legs were just shy of tree trunks. He had black hair and a somewhat boyish face
that carried a ready smile.

He offered me his hand
immediately. His skin was soft and somewhat clammy
.

It’s about time you decided to interview me. You should have
talked to me last time.

“
I was doing a story
about the General and how he came to be
.”

Came to be?

“
I was doing a story
about his origins and how things started in El Paso
.”

Yeah, yeah, I knew what you meant. I’ve seen you before ya
know? When you went and interviewed Jax the first time. You were looking all
nervous. It’s a pretty good look on you. I tried to get him to introduce us,
but he never did.

“
Uh huh, well I’ve
certainly heard about you. Make no mistake about that
.”

Really, what have you heard?

“
I probably shouldn’t
say
.”

Go ahead.

“
Well, I heard about
you from Jaxon
.”

Never mind, I don’t wanna hear it.

“
He said that you’re a
wanton man whore with no quality control. Shall I go on
?”

He’s an asshole sometimes.

“
He told me that you’d
say that. He also told me to start off my interview by mentioning your quality
control problems. He thought it might help you focus
.”

Well I guess when we are all finished here I’ll have a few
things to bring up with him.

“
He said you would go
there as well. Would you like to hear his response
?”

He actually took a
moment to think about his options before he decided to ignore my question
completely and changed the subject
.

So what did you want to ask me?

“
I’ve been speaking
with Dudley; he took me all the way to the moment he met up with you at
Georgie’s house. Do you think you could lead me up to that moment as well
?”

Did he tell you how I pegged Georgie in the head with the
beer bottle?

“
Yes, he did
.”

That was pretty fucking funny. I didn’t mean to actually hit
the dumbass, but it was still pretty funny.

“
So what were you
doing in El Paso
?
I understand that
you don’t actually live there
.”

I went to visit a friend of mine.

“
I’m curious as to why
Jaxon didn’t come and rescue you like he rescued Tito from his apartment
.”

That would be because I don’t need someone to come and
rescue me, and also because none of them even knew I was in town. I was
visiting a lady friend.

“
Did she make it out
?”

No clue, I really don’t know her that well.

“
I see
.”

No, no, don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I ditched
her or anything. She went to work the day things started to go bad. I was in my
motel room because she didn’t want her husband or kids to find out about me.
Whatever. The point is, I was nowhere near her. If she had been with me when
the shamblers came, I would have protected her. Unless she slowed me down, then
I would have just pillow snuffed her.

I was completely
floored that he actually admitted that and said it so casually.

He started laughing at
the expression on my face
.

Gotcha.

“
You were making fun
of me
?”

I was. The reason I did that is because after talking to
Jaxon you have some preconceived notion that I’m this dumb asshole. I could
tell by the looks you were giving me, and I don’t think that’s very fair. I may
be rough around the edges, and I may have some personality conflicts with
certain people, but I’m still a Regulator. I still go out and save people with
the rest of the team. Besides that, have you ever even seen Jaxon in polite
society? He’s rude. He’s like the rudest person I’ve ever met. I’m at least
nice to people when I meet them. All in all, I’m a pretty good guy.

I was a little shocked
by all that he said. I was indeed thinking of him as a sort of dumb brute. It
was surprising that he seemed rather intelligent
.

“
You’re right; I
wasn’t being very fair to you. Let’s start over please
.”

Much better. Now what kind of panties are you wearing and
how do I get them off?

Once again, I was
completely floored and speechless
.

So anyway, I was in my motel room when the fucking zombies
came. I was staying at the Camino Real. Jaxon would probably call that
pretentious, but I like to stay in nice places. If he wants to slum it, he’s
more than welcome.

It’s a pretty tall building. I forget what floor I was on,
but I was up there pretty high and I was able to see all the mayhem on the
streets below from my window when it finally came my way. It wasn’t a pretty
sight. It wasn’t a pretty sight at all. People were attacking and eating other
people.

The idea of fighting back didn’t even cross my mind. I was
concerned with self-preservation. At that moment, nobody was thinking about
fighting back. Everyone was running. They were even trampling each other in
their haste to get away.

I was safe in my room when it started, but I knew I wouldn’t
be able to stay there forever. I ran into the hallway towards the vending
machine. I used a well placed kick to break the glass and snagged every single
food item it held.

After that, I went to another machine that held bottled
water and sodas. It took a few trips from there and back to my room, but I was
able to empty it out. There were a few other people hiding out on my floor as
well. I shared with the ones I met in the hallway.

After I was back in my room, I pushed a large wooden dresser
in front of the door to make sure I was safe.

I guess I ended up staying in that room for a few days. It
was pretty lonely. I had no contact with the outside world; then again, that
was kind of the point. The outside world had gone to shit. I could see that
much from my window, and I had no intention of getting any closer.

My truck was waiting for me in the parking garage if I ever
decided to leave, but where would I go? For all I knew, the entire world was
overrun by those things. I watch movies, I know about zombies. They multiply
pretty fast and, from what I had seen out of my window, El Paso was overrun with
zombies.

The only problem I had was food. After those few days of
being locked up in that room, I was almost out of it. I still had plenty of
fluids, and the water in the bathroom still ran, but I was going to need a new
food source. I didn’t relish the idea of leaving the safety of my room, but I
figured that the hotel kitchen would have enough canned goods to last me a
pretty long time.

I left my room the day after I ate the last bit of crackers.
My stomach was grumbling as I pushed the heavy dresser away from the door.

I opened it just enough to peek out.

I looked from left to right. The hallway was deserted. I
wondered what had happened to the people I saw when I raided the vending
machines; whether they were still somewhere on my floor perhaps hiding behind a
locked door.

I’m a hunter. I own a variety of different types of firearms
from pistols all the way to rifles. I’m also a pretty damn good shot, unlike
Georgie. However, I had no weapon. All of them were back at my home in Laredo.
I didn’t even keep a pistol in the glove box of my truck.

That was the worst part, knowing that I could defend myself
really well and not having the means to do so. I hate that useless feeling.
When you are dealing with zombies, you need a weapon. That’s pretty much all
there is to it. I mean, I’ve been in plenty of street fights, I was no stranger
to beating people up, but you can’t punch out a zombie. You can’t even hurt
those damn things unless you destroy the brain. As hard as I can hit, I can’t
hit that hard.

When I left the safety of my room, I was completely
defenseless.

I actually thought about Jax at that moment. He always has a
knife on him. I would have loved a knife in my hand. It wouldn’t be much and I
wasn’t exactly a knife fighter, but it would have been better than nothing.

I chose the elevator instead of the stairs. I had no idea
what the doors would open up on, but I didn’t want to be all tired from taking
the stairs.

I figured the kitchen would be located on the first floor
somewhere near the bar and restaurant. The elevator still played music as it
descended; I remember that much. I also remember just how terrified I was that
the door was going to open onto a room full of zombies.

I watched the floors count down on the electric panel.

I was damn near pissing my pants.

Finally, the doors opened. The way was clear. I crouched
low, just in case I needed to duck behind something and made my way forward.
Fortunately, the lights were all on so I wasn’t lost in the dark.
Unfortunately, I could see all the carnage.

The dead had been through here. There were at least eight
bodies lying about in the bar area. Those bodies had been devoured so
completely that they weren’t able to rise back up. It was nauseating. I felt
the bile rise in the back of my throat and swallowed hard to push it back down.
Retching would make noise. Noise would attract the attention of the dead.

It took awhile, but I finally found the kitchen. The lights
in the room were off, and the smell of spoiled meat hit me like a closed fist.
That didn’t bother me too much though. It was much more pleasant than the foul
odors of blood and internal organs reeking off the unfortunate corpses I had
just passed.

I went to the pantry. Inside were enough canned goods to
keep me going for a good while. I had brought pillowcases with me in order to
carry supplies. I filled them up as rapidly as I could, making sure to grab a
can opener as well. I also found some trash bags. I filled those up as well. I
wasn’t going to starve anytime soon.

When I was finished, I had two large trash bags and two
pillowcases stuffed with food. It was more than I could comfortable carry, but
I didn’t want to come back down here before I needed to. It was a dilemma, but
common sense told me to stay away from the ground floor. The dead could easily
enter here. It might be clear at the moment, but that may not be the case when
I needed to come back.

I was taking all of my loot. It wasn’t far back to the
elevator, and I could drag the trash bags with one hand and sling the
pillowcases over my shoulder with the other.

I had barely gotten back to the bar when I heard the tin
sound of music coming from a set of headphones. If my head was turned in
another direction, I probably would have missed it, but my head was exactly
where it needed to be to pick up the quiet sounds.

It was so quiet that I wasn’t alarmed. I was, however
curious. I scanned the room in the direction of the music but saw nothing. I
let go of my bundles and took a closer look. I found the source of the music
underneath a booth.

It was a child. He was probably ten years old. I have a son
close to that age.

“
You have a son
?”

Actually, I have 3 children. Two girls and a boy, the boy is
the middle child. The oldest is a teenager.

“
You’re divorced
correct
?”

Twice divorced, but I’m still very, very close to my kids. I
was worried about them. I spent hours every day in my room just praying that
they were okay. That somehow they were someplace safe and nowhere near this
Hell.

“
Being cut off and
secluded, you didn’t realize that the situation had been contained inside El
Paso
?”