“What’s wrong?” Jeff looked alarmed. “Why are we stopping? What’s wrong?”
“I just think we should talk.”
“Talk? C’mon, you’re fucking with me, right?”
“You got bit. I want to look at it.”
“What?” Jeff looked totally surprised. “I didn’t get bit.”
Cooper thought maybe he was denying it, hoping it wouldn’t be real if he didn’t accept it. “Let me take a look then.”
They hopped out of the van and to the street.
“Sure, where do you want to look?” Jeff spread his arms and stood up straight.
Cooper pulled one of the LED lights out and examined Jeff’s neck. There was too much blood and some strips of flesh. Maybe he didn’t feel the bite.
“Wait.” Cooper looked around for a second, then ran around and opened the van and popped the hood. “This will only take a second.” He pulled the tubes out of the windshield washer fluid reservoir and pulled the plastic one-gallon container out of its brackets and ran over to Jeff. He ripped a chunk off of his shirt.
“Hold still.” He poured about half the container on a piece of his shirt and used it to wipe off Jeff’s neck.
“Oh shit!” Cooper’s eyes went wide and he stepped back.
Jeff looked scared to death. “What? What is it?”
“Now I’m fucking with you.” Cooper smiled, mostly out of relief that Jeff was OK, as he ran back to the driver’s seat.
“You asshole.” But Jeff was laughing too.
Apparently the deadhead had bitten its own tongue off. Jeff was covered in its blood, and there was a tongue on his collar.
§
They made it to the office park in minutes, driving as fast at they dared. A few of the dead were in the way, and Cooper didn’t slow down for them. Jeff yelled across the top of the van.
“Park a street over from the office.”
“’K!” Cooper minimized the amount of breathing he had to do. He stopped, and they both launched themselves away from the stench. They didn’t have time to do anything else, so they ran between buildings toward the group’s hideout. That was when they collided with a small person. Everyone ended up on their asses.
It was Wendy, and she was screaming bloody murder. Cooper grabbed her and put his hand over her mouth. She recoiled and thrashed. He let her go because he could feel something wasn’t right. In the moonlight he could see the blood, black on his hands, her face, and all down the front of her shirt. When she realized it was Cooper, she tried not to scream. She was moaning and balling her fists, fighting the scream. The pain was incredible.
Cooper was about to ask her what happened when they heard the crashing of glass and screams. They all turned and raced back across the street, but Wendy stopped by the ambulance. She didn’t intend to follow Banjo and Jack anywhere.
§
Ron slammed the door shut and yelled for everyone to get down. He wasn’t even sure what he meant by that, but it was a warning. He wasn’t sure who was out there, but he figured it was the bikers. Now he was very worried about Cooper and Jeff. He had no idea who the female was who had screamed the warning that saved him, but he was grateful. He barely had time to latch the door and turn around, when the glass exploded around him. He was thrown facedown on the floor as two large men in black plowed into him.
§
Cooper was first in the building and saw a tall figure dressed in black standing over Ron and struggling to slip a rope around his neck. Ron was in a sitting position and fought to keep the noose from going over his head. Cooper pulled both silenced pistols and began firing both of them, alternating left and right. He managed to put many rounds into the big man’s body, but he’d started firing too soon. The bullets were weak at a distance, and they seemed to have no effect. The man’s back was broad, and even in the darkness Cooper could see the holes appear and the cloth jumping. The other man was already inside the building, evidenced by blood-curdling screams coming from within.
Banjo dropped Ron, reflexively reaching around to his back when he felt multiple painful stabs. It felt like a swarm of giant angry wasps stinging him. He heard the clicks of a silenced weapon and spun and saw a guy holding two pistols straight-armed and pointing at him, firing them alternately between left and right as he ran. Banjo sneered at the small guns but realized they might be the guns that shot his brothers.
He had about ten lumps of searing-hot lead under his skin. The silenced, reduced-load ammo barely punctured the skin and muscle. One or two bullets had made it about an inch deep, but none of them were fatal. They just pissed Banjo off to horrific levels. He came at Cooper with both hands out.
Cooper’s guns ran dry. The giant bastard trying to lynch Ron was running at him. He knew he’d hit the man several times, but the bullets didn’t drop him. He didn’t even look like he was slowed down at all. Cooper dropped the guns, whipped out the baton, and took a hard swipe at the biker’s skull.
Banjo had been in many fights in his day, many, many fights. He saw the baton coming and blocked it, and at the same time he raised his knee into the guy’s gut.
Cooper collapsed. The pain was incapacitating. Then a boot came down on the back of his head. His face was slammed against the carpeted floor. It hurt, but it didn’t knock him out. He rolled quickly to the side. The boot came down again next to his head. He was fumbling for Tug’s gun, but the big man was gone. Cooper stood holding the pistol as Jeff entered the building holding Dale’s gun. They heard yelling from the darkness and the sounds of thumping and crashing. They couldn’t tell what was going on.
“NO!” a female voice screamed. Cooper thought it might be Lisa’s.
He moved into the building with Jeff on his heels. Ron was standing up behind them.
In the dimly lit room, Cooper could see that one man held a long metal rod against Ana’s throat. She was against his body, and she looked scared.
“Drop your gun, or she dies.”
The other man was holding Mary in the same manner. “You heard the man. Drop the guns.”
The others were all in front of the men, sitting on the floor. Lisa was face up and not moving. She had blood coming from her nose and half her face was swelling. Dale looked pissed lying there helpless. There was nothing he could do to help anyone at the moment. Sal was still unconscious, and Donna was at Banjo’s feet.
Jeff started to put his gun down, but Cooper put his hand out to stop him.
“Let them go first.” Cooper didn’t know how this was going to end, but he knew turning over their guns wouldn’t make it end any better. “Let the women leave, and we will turn over our guns.” He had no intention of doing that. He was just looking for an opening. He had a gun, and these animals had crowbars.
“Fuck you.” Banjo lifted his crowbar from Ana’s neck and pushed her down hard. He held the crowbar high above Donna’s head with both hands.
Well, Old Crow, this here’s the brillo I promised you,
he thought. He leered at the thought of what was about to happen. Crow was humming orgasmicly in his hands. Ron screamed as he rushed past both Cooper and Jeff. There was no way he was going to make it to Donna before the crowbar fell and shattered her skull.
§
Jeff hesitated to fire and that was normal, but Cooper didn’t. He knew what was about to happen without a doubt, and he needed no time to process it. He knew this man was unredeemable, evil. He raised the pistol and fired. He hit Banjo in the neck and he dropped.
Jack reacted by lifting his crowbar high above his head, aiming at Sal, who lay on the sofa in front of him. He still held Mary to his body, but she was much shorter than him and provided little cover.
Two rapid gunshots deafened Cooper, blinding him in his right eye. He spun and it was Jeff, holding Dale’s gun at arm’s length right next to his head. Jack was down with two bullets in his forehead. Jeff dropped the gun.
“Shit, man, a heads up next time.” Cooper wiggled his finger in his ear.
They heard groaning. It was Banjo, lying in a puddle of his own blood, holding his neck as blood pumped between his fingers. He looked scared.
“Help me,” he pleaded in a weak voice.
Ron knelt down next to him.
“Please, help me,” Banjo begged Ron.
Ron looked him in the eyes. This man who’d tried to hang him and who would kill every man here and rape the women if had the chance, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything unkind.
“I would help you if I could. I am sorry.” And he meant it. He really was sorry for the man, despite everything that had happened.
Banjo closed his eyes and was gone.
43.
A few days later and everyone was back at the parking structure. They poured themselves completely into building their new home. Almost everyone went out at one time or another in groups of three and four and helped collect materials from a wide variety of places. Ron visited several medical and dental offices. There was a constant collection of supplies and materials—anything that was essential, useful, or even just entertaining. The structure had plenty of room for the storage of all the collected goods.
The first order of business was to take care of the wounded. Dale was healing up fine, but Sal required antibiotics, and several times Ron and Donna removed bullet fragments from his flesh. Jeff and Ron were trying to get a working X-ray machine so they could find all the fragments. Wendy wasn’t seriously wounded other than her broken tooth. It was an easy job for Ron to create a crown for her. He was also cleaning everyone’s teeth, as he was serious about starting a community in the structure, where people could live and not just survive.
Mary barely left Sal’s side as he convalesced. There was scuttlebutt about what people might, or might not, have seen going on between them. They seemed to both be in good spirits. Mary also spent time with Jeff. They had a lot of common ground to discuss, and it helped to talk about it with someone who understood.
Dale helped Cooper and Jeff through the process of dealing with the shootings. They both seemed to be dealing with everything OK. Dale also got his hands on an electric hair clipper and gave himself a crew cut and shaved his beard. He was on his feet soon and able to contribute. He wanted to start building an armory and securing the structure.
§
Cooper stayed on for less than a week. He left before many of the changes took place and wished he could’ve stayed to help. He didn’t want to leave the group that had become a family to him. He really liked the security of being in a group and living at the parking structure, especially since the bikers were gone and the dead were not coming around as much. Things had settled down, and the group was much better at not attracting them or leading them to the structure.
He really liked Ana. They grew closer each day. She wanted to come with him, but he wouldn’t let her and had to enlist Lisa’s help to make sure she stayed behind. It was hard for him to tear himself away from the community, his new family, but it was especially hard to leave Ana. His plan was to return with his sister as soon as possible. She would love it at the structure, and they would love her.
When it came time for him to leave, he didn’t want to say goodbye, knowing everyone would fuss over him. He also knew if he left without saying goodbye it would be especially offensive and hurtful to Lisa and Ana. He made his announcement when he was ready to go. Everyone was saddened and made sure he had what he needed and then some. Ron, Jeff, and Dale drove him to the southern edge of San Jose and helped him find a vehicle.
He drove back the way he’d come, making the return trip much faster, grateful for the four-wheel-drive truck Dale had insisted he take. It got him around several wrecks and up the sides of some steep hills. He took the 156 to the 1 and was in Monterey within the hour.
He came in from the north. The highway ran alongside the bay, and for miles the bay was just to his right. The city was visible for miles before he reached it. It was always a spectacular view, day or night. He was cruising along, getting very close to home, when suddenly he slammed on his brakes. He screeched to a sideways stop. He’d almost hit five people walking down the middle of the highway.
Of the five, two stood out. One was a large guy with his arms tied to his sides, a cage on his head, and a chain around his neck. He also wore a large, very full backpack. He was being led along by a small woman holding a lantern.
Cooper had found his sister.
AFTERWORD
It was pitch black. The water was cold, stagnant, and waist deep. Weed still couldn’t believe that fat fuck had pushed him in the goddamned hole.
When he’d dropped into the darkness, he was sure serious pain and a slow death awaited. He’d even pissed his pants on the way down. But he landed in water, black cold-as-fuck water. He went completely under, and all he could think was that his shit was surely ruined.
High above him, a large patch of the night sky glowed from the light of the moon. He thought he saw stars, but he wasn’t sure. All was dark around him, but he could hear and it sounded like he was in a big space. His eyes gradually adjusted to the meager light and he saw a corpse floating facedown about three feet away.
“Well, fuck me.”
He could see better with each passing moment, and eventually he was able to see hundreds of bodies floating in the water in this cavernous space.
“Fuck me a million times,” he whispered as he started looking for a way out.
He could see various sized openings dotting the walls, but none of them were big enough to walk through. Some looked large enough to crawl into, but they were at ground level and half filled with water. His head would barely be above the surface if he crawled into one of those. There was one tunnel above the water, and it was big enough to walk in upright. It was reachable by slime-covered rungs set in the wall below it.