Beautiful Death (Bella Morté Trilogy Book 1) (31 page)

Taking the plate of food, Rob snorted. “You mean that wonderful parking job?”

“Yeah, that mess of a ride was a horror from the start. I swore I was never gonna ride on another bus again.”

Jessi laughed. “That little girl wouldn’t stop singing that same stupid song… over and over.”

“Yep, that’s how it started. Lord help me, I wanted to get that kid drunk so she’d go to sleep.”

“That was the whole bus, Nell.”

Nell, Alexander, Jessi, and Tyler all joined in and told him about how the bus came to be a permanent fixture in the store. Each one took the time telling him their story. After they were finished, he got to know the rest of them.

“So what’s your story?” Nell asked as she watched him.

Twenty-Four

“God please, stop the pounding in my head. I promise I’ll never drink again!” Rob exclaimed. He curled up in a fetal position, hiding under the covers. The sun bled through the window, dancing light across his bed as if playing hide and seek. “When you party like a rock star, you have to deal with the platinum hangover. I know.”

Groaning, he sat up looking at the ceiling. “I know I promised you that before. Ya know, the part about never drinking again if you just give me fast relief, but you have to deliver fast relief for that contract to be binding. Quick relief is the sealant in that promise.” Tapping his heart twice, he kissed two fingers, saluting the ceiling.

Robert Poole, Rob was the man most women talked about as being worth keeping. A good man was hard to find, but he had all the right ingredients. He was good looking, quick-witted, dominating in a good way, and a hard worker. Not to mention his mother taught him how to be a real gentleman. Recently, he reached the golden age of thirty and was ready to settle down.

He sat with his long legs resting over the side, feet firmly on the floor, running a hand through his short, brown hair. Standing, he stepped into his slippers while grabbing his robe as he walked to the bathroom. His feet shuffled across the floor, sounding like an old man more than a young man in his prime.

Lifting the toilet seat to relieve a screaming bladder, he glanced in the mirror at his bloodshot eyes. The dark circles and slight bags showed his failure to get a good night’s sleep. Tilting his head to the side, blue eyes stared at the reddish-brown hickey, smirking as he touched it.

“Damn vampire got me again.” Scratching his goatee, he chuckled. Reaching a hand into the shower, he turned on the hot water, instantly fogging the mirror. Stripping, he stepped through the curtain.

Afterwards, he showed off his handsome physique by dressing down: jeans and a T-shirt. He didn’t feel as bad as he did earlier and was ready for the rest of his weekend.

Once downstairs, he fixed a pot of coffee to fill his thermos. He noticed none of his roommates made it home the night before. This didn’t bother him. They rarely were home. Reaching up, he opened the cabinet, pulling down a big bottle of pills. This was his supply. Suffering from a work related accident years ago kept him in pain often. Not to mention the thrill they gave him. Popping a handful, chugging it down with his coffee, he was ready to face the world.

Grabbing his keys off the key ring, he paused. His roommates’ keys were still hanging on the hook. He looked around curiously. They never went anywhere without them. He stood for a moment, thinking. Shrugging, he turned and opened the door, stepping out into the warm sun. Finally, the sun was out, drying the wet ground. It rained for a week straight, so the sun was a good thing. He breathed in, smiling. It was a good change and put him in a great mood, though the air smelled musty at best.

Pulling on his shades and baseball cap, he walked out to his car. Taking out his cell phone, he noticed a text from his girl. As trashed as he was the night before - seeing his car in one piece was a good sign.

Not feeling good might have to postpone our big plans. Love you.

He walked down the driveway, figuring he would go over and help nurse her back to health. Hitting the reply was enough for him to discover there wasn’t any cell service. Groaning, he walked around the car, trying to find enough bars to shoot out this text, but got nothing; not even a speck of a bar. Angrily, he tossed it in the open window.

“You fucking expensive piece of shit. Smart phone my ass!”

He pulled up on the handle, opening his door, sitting in the seat. Leaning forward, he started the car while adjusting his rearview mirror. He sat staring. Scratching his head, he slowly opened his door again, stepping out, looking confused. Taking off his shades, he stared at the sight before him.

“What in the…?”

As far as the eye could see, dead people littered the street, sidewalk, and his whole neighborhood. Chopped up, chewed on, and some tremendously destroyed. Walking to the end of his driveway, carefully stepping over bodies, he looked up the road. The scene was the same no matter which direction he looked. Tears welled in his eyes before the smell hit, reeling him backwards. Tripping over people, he landed on the dead body of his roommate. His hand slid into his internal organs in the hole in his gut. Gagging, he wiped his hand off on the grass, while scrambling backwards and on his feet before racing to his car.

Flinging open the door, he jumped in. Slamming it hard behind him, he quickly locked it. Throwing the car in reverse, he backed over the people. His roommate’s dead stare caught him through the side-view mirror just a second before he ran over his head, squashing it like a melon under the tire. He drove a mile up the street, turning into a driveway. This was the prettiest neighborhood in the city. They all were proud of their flowerbeds and artfully trimmed bushes.

However, it looked the same as his neighborhood now, littered with dead. Closing his eyes, he prayed silently to God. Reaching behind his seat, he grabbed the tire iron. Jumping out, he raced to the front door. His heart pounded in his chest as he gripped the door handle to find it locked. That was a good sign!

Thankfully, his girl told him the family secret.
The key to the house is under the planter.
Turning, he went for the big marble planter on the porch. Lifting it, he pulled the key out from underneath and went back to open the door. Pushing open the door, he looked around in shock. That was not a good sign.

He remembered how her mother put those pictures on the wall. They were spaced so lovingly apart from each other, in time-consuming symmetrical order. There wasn’t any order now, just thrown on the floor: destroyed. Splinters of wood held the evidence of the full realm of destruction. Pieces on the ground of fine china used to be the expensive collectibles that used to sit on the shelves, depicting another time, place, or memory of a special event.

Slowly, he closed the door behind him. Gripping tire iron in his hand, he bolted up the stairs. The glass crunched, which caused an echo to fill the eerie silence. Taking the stairs two at a time, he felt something slimy as he gripped the bannister. Once at the top, he noticed the red stain. Glancing down the rail, it was blood.

Turning quickly, he looked in the direction of the room where he spent many hours, nights, and days. An electric shock went up and down his spine when he spied the bloody handprint on the door. Sighing, he groaned and sprinted the distance. His hand shook as he gripped the knob, pushing it open.

Gasping, tears welled in his eyes, spilling over to trickle down his cheeks as convulsions gripped him and he leaned over throwing up. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and leaned back, bracing himself in the door as he swayed.

He cried softly. “No baby.”

The woman in the bed was dead and had been for many hours. Blood splatter smeared down the walls, dripping from the ceiling. Her organs, ripped out of a hole in the middle of her, strung around the room.

Dropping the tire iron while staggering to the bed, he sobbed uncontrollably. “Oh baby, what happened?” He dropped down on his knees, grabbing her hand, holding it to his face. “No, no, no, no, no… please baby, don’t leave me.” After a few moments, he reached up, lightly caressing her face.

Suddenly, and without warning, something pulled him off his feet. Reaching his hands back, he tried hanging on to stop his hair from being pulled out. He struggled, kicking, and grabbing anything within his grasp. He felt the discarded tire iron roll under his body. Grabbing it, he slammed it into whatever had him. He felt a sharp, stinging sensation in his neck followed by the gentle oozing of blood as he continuously hit whatever it was. It released him. Turning, he looked behind him, staggering to his feet. Looking into the eyes of his girlfriend’s mother, he didn’t even recognize her anymore.

There was this crazed look in her eyes. She looked insane covered in blood. She lunged at him again. Rolling away, he jumped up, holding the iron above his head and hit her. He hit her repeatedly until there was nothing left but a skull and bloody pulp.

He stood over her dead body. “I really hated your fucking tuna casserole.” Once more, he dropped the tire iron, bringing his hand up to his neck. He felt the flow of blood, oozing from a chunk of missing flesh where she bit him. “Bitch!” Kicking her face, he staggered back. Pulling his hand away, he looked at the mix of blood and pus.

He sighed, falling to the floor, dizzy from loss of blood and crawled over to the bed. Reaching inside his pocket, he pulled out a ring box. “I just want you to know, the short time we were together made up for a lifetime of being without you. You brought joy to my life and I will never forget you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over losing you.” Opening the box, held within deep plush blue bedding revealed an engagement ring with a healthy diamond in the middle, surrounded by tiny pink ones. Taking her hand, he slipped the ring on her finger. “I will always love you.” He lay beside her and waited to die.

Nell winced, shaking her head. “Damn baby. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He nodded. “Thanks. We just found out she was pregnant and was getting married.”

“Oh my word! Are you okay?”

“Each day gets a little easier.”

“That’s true. The only thing we can do now is continue to live.”

Tyler nodded. “And kick the shit out of those things.”

After story time Rob ran to catch up to Dani who was in the garage working under the hood of one of the buses. “Are you a mechanic too?”

Grinning, she pulled her head out from under the raised hood. “Yeah, I tinker under the hood a bit. Before all this shit happened, I worked at Grease Monkeys for a livin’.”

“Oh that’s such a turn on.”

“Why are men so turned on by a woman fixin’ an engine?” She wiped the grease off on the rag in her pocket, pulling the hood closed.

“I dunno, maybe it’s because so many of us can’t?”

“Men can’t ask for directions, but ya don’t get turned on when we do.”

He chuckled. “Okay. Maybe the sight of a woman covered in grease reminds us of mud.”

“Yeah. That sounds more like it.”

“Well, so my next step is training right? I mean, I’ve been killing these things on my own. I have a feeling you know something that you can teach me to help kill more of them.”

“Oh yeah. We’ll be goin’ out for trainin’. With two of us, we’ll cover more ground.”

“So what does my training consist of? Do I get to punch the bag for a while first or…”

“I’m gonna give ya the same crash course trainin’ I got when I first started. Once you’re trained enough, you’ll take out Squad A an’ I’ll take out Squad B an’ we’ll search.”

“What is crash course training?”

“Well, mine was the crashin’ o’ that bus.”

“Oh, I heard about that.”

“Yeah, ‘at was a mess. I don’t think yours’ll be quite that excitin’.” She grabbed the keys off the corkboard. “However, I’m sure we can find somethin’ for you to kill.” She waved to Tyler.

“Hell yeah, that’s my kind of training!”

Seeing Dani waving for him, he rushed over. “What’s up? Are we going out again?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m takin’ him out for some trainin’ in the beast.”

“You’re going out in the darkness?”

“Yeah. It’s the best time to train.”

“Okay.”

“Close the doors after we leave an’ get the hell back up to the top. I’ll let ya know when I’m back, but in my absence, you’re in charge.” She handed him the boss’s whistle.

He took it, draping it over his neck. “Sweet. I’ll keep everything under control until you return.”

Dani and Rob got in the truck and headed out. It was dark out. Unless extreme circumstances, usually no one left the camp at dark. They drove through the empty streets, weaving around the abandoned cars.

Rob looked at them. “Did anyone ever decide to just start taking cars?”

She shook her head. “We checked. Most of ‘em were outta gas.”

“I wonder why so many people ran out of gas?”

“My guess is they were yanked outta their cars while they were runnin’.”

“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.”

She pulled over after driving a short distance, killing the lights. Pointing out the window, she motioned to him. “Look outside an’ tell me if ya see anything.”

Turning, he looked out his window, shaking his head. “Can you be a little more specific? I see buildings, an alleyway,” he turned in his seat looking out the front. “There’s not really much else to,” he paused, pointing as he leaned forward. “What the hell is that?”