Floyd & Mikki (Book 2): Zombie Slayers (Dawn of the Living) (22 page)

Floyd and Mikki stayed behind in the military station when evening came. Raul and Carlos joined them. The plan was to sleep on top of a couple of the trailers just, in case any of the neighboring Zombie Town residents came to pay a visit.

It didn’t seem likely. The town was far enough away and brain-eaters tended to stay local. Without anything nearby to stimulate them, they tended to hide in the dark and go dormant. If there was anything in the military camp to attract them, they would have been here long ago. Mikki commented that the Super Z’s obviously attacked the living, but didn’t clear out any regular zombies. Of course, she had no idea why or what that might mean for the future. She debated using the blockbuster nuke grenades to level the town with Floyd, but they decided against it. Best to wait until they knew for if the town held anything of value.

They already knew there was a hospital that might have valuable medical equipment and pharmaceuticals. They also knew that Desert Station Zebra was some kind of experimentation center for Project Bokor (whatever that was). If the hospital still had electricity and refrigeration, it could be a gold mine for medicine. Maybe even a cure! Of course, the Freedom Riders had already lost three men trying to get to the hospital, but they couldn’t even make it past the Super Zs, so no one really knew what was waiting in the nearby town.

Perched atop one of the taller trailers near the closest entrance to the town, Floyd and Mikki took the first shift. The two barely said five words to each other all night. Floyd could tell Mikki was still brooding over what she had done to Mya, and he knew better than to bring the subject up. There was nothing he could say anyway, other than, “I love you,” and that was three of the five words that were spoken. Mikki provided the other two, simply saying, “I know.”

Nothing happened at all. The night passed quietly without incident. When the moon started to wane and the clouds barely started to lighten, they woke up Raul and Carlos before retiring. They slept pretty well in their sleeping bags, considering the circumstances. Both had become used to sleeping under adverse circumstances. Or, half-sleeping, rather, with one ear always open for any sound that might indicate the slightest danger.

Night disappeared and the sun made another grand entrance, arrayed in purple, orange and gold. After checking in with Raul and Carlos, they dropped down to the ground, searched the area, and then headed to the commissary trailer to whip up some breakfast. They packed a number of Styrofoam trays to bring food back to the camp, as well.

They were greeted upon arrival with smiles from everyone, even Crazy Joe. He clearly was holding no grudge against Mikki for downing his girl. Doc, on the other hand, was still grumbling as he took a tray of food.

After passing out breakfast, Floyd and Mikki had a chat with Jack about what to do next. There were enough people to try and take back the town, if they had some more training. With the new military armor they had taken from the battlefield, they could at least make brief raids rather safely. Even so, it would probably take some time before they could be certain a town that size was totally cleaned out.

Or, they could simply jump on their bikes and into their vehicles and head on out to New California Haven. The Freedom Riders could make a good home there, if they survived the journey through blitzed Los Angeles. Either way, they would have to train to fight better than they did now, and Floyd and Mikki were happy to provide that training.

Jack agreed that everyone should spend the next day in training. Then, the two Zombie Destroyers would identify the best men and women to lead on a scouting party, hitting the edge of the town just to see what kind of resistance they encountered. They would try again for the hospital, and see whatever else might be of value in the town. The Freedom Riders could then decide as a group on whether they stayed put for a while, or made the journey to NCH right away.

Mikki disappeared for a while to visit Mya. Doc just grunted when she approached the open rear door of the ambulance. He blocked the opening, however, when she tried to enter.

“I just want to see how she’s doing,” Mikki explained.

“She’s in a coma,” Doc snapped. I got her stitched up OK, but she’s feverish. I’m afraid she’s got an internal infection. I don’t have shit for equipment in here to make sure, and there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.”

“But…you’ve got an ambulance!”

Doc paused a moment, glaring at her with a look that made her whither. It was clear that multiple insulting comments were running through his mind, but he chose to maintain his dignity and ignored all of them. “This is an ambulance,” he explained slowly and tersely, “It is not a hospital. An ambulance is what you use to get someone to a hospital. And it damn sure isn’t an operating room, which is what I’ll need if her infection worsens. And it probably will, since I have no antibiotics here. I’ve barely got a box of Band-Aids left.

“That’s why we stopped off in this hell hole to begin with. Lost three good men because we saw that damn hospital on the hill. We’re lucky we didn’t all get wiped out.”

Mikki decided against reminding him that it was Floyd and her that saved all their asses, but with Mia in a sweaty coma, she knew that wouldn’t help. “So there’s nothing you can do?”

Doc let out some sort of a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a snort. “Nothing. Except pray. And I don’t believe in that sort of thing.”

He turned his back on Mikki and pretended to be looking through his box of dwindling supplies. It was clear that he was done talking. While his back was turned, Mikki unzipped her jacket and pulled out one of the holy cards she had tucked in her bra. She reached up slipped it into Mya’s shirt. The unconscious girl clearly looked in bad shape. Mikki turned away and choked back bitter tears.

Conflicting emotions raged through her. It was Mya’s fault, after all, and Mikki would do anything to protect her man. On the other hand, she knew Floyd was hers and no woman could ever come between them, so why had she been so insanely jealous? Mikki tried to stop the fight, so Mya got what she deserved. But did she really deserve what Mikki did to her? More than anything, Mikki was still trying to grapple with the fact that she had lost control of herself. She had been totally, completely, insanely out of control. It still scared the crap out of her, and added to her deepening sense of guilt.

“Let’s take the first watch tonight, Floyd,” she suggested when she caught up with him. “That way we can sleep in tomorrow mornin’.”

“You OK?” Floyd asked. “You don’t look right.”

“I’m fine,” she answered, forcing a weak smile.

She wasn’t fine, and Floyd knew it. He was concerned, but had no idea what he could do about it. He hoped that maybe the training would help exorcise whatever demons were clawing inside of her.

It didn’t. Her head wasn’t in the right place. She went through the motions, but she was sloppy, distracted. More than once, Floyd had to pull his punches to keep from hurting her. When he actually drop-kicked her and sent her flying backward, he pretended it was all part of the drill, so none of the spectators would get alarmed, but he was scared inside. As he reached down to help her up, he whispered, “Do you want to stop?” Mikki just shook her head.

When he nearly took her head off sparring with the swords, however, Floyd stopped the practice session. He assigned everyone some moves to practice, based on their skill level, then he took Mikki off by the Doom Buggy. “What the hell was that?” he asked, more alarmed and concerned than angry.

“Sorry, Floyd. My head just ain’t right today.”

“No shit. I never seen you like this, Mikki. You’re scarin’ me. It’s Mya, ain’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, nothin’. I can see it in your eyes.”

“She’s dyin’, Floyd. She’s dyin’ and I done it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“And you care why, exactly? Dammit, Mikki! She would’ve killed you if she had the chance. She tried! She wouldn’t let go! Would you rather be lyin’ in that ambulance right now instead of her?”

Mikki didn’t answer.

“Oh, come on, now! You gotta be kidding me! You would, wouldn’t you? Why? What’s so special about her? She’s a bitch who got what she deserved.”

Mikki glared at Floyd with an anger he had never seen before. Not directed at him anyway. Whatever he had said to set her off, he knew instantly that he had just stepped in a huge, steaming pile of shit.

Mikki froze and paused before answering, “That’s exactly what everyone has always said about me.”

Suddenly, the light bulb went off in Floyd’s brain. So that was it! Mikki didn’t see herself as any different that Mya. Killing Mya would be like killing a piece of herself. No one in her life would have cared if Mikki died, now no one seemed to care if Mya died. No one but Doc, but Doc hated seeing anyone die.

In the last couple of days, no one had even visited the ambulance to check in on Mya other than Crazy Joe, and he wasn’t exactly grief-stricken. No crying by her bedside, or anything. No one had even mentioned Mya recently. Everyone seemed more interested in the fresh-cooked food and the training sessions. Mya was now what Mikki was before Floyd: utterly alone.

Floyd grabbed Mikki and held her tight. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I understand.”

Mikki wanted to scream that he didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He could never understand. Sure, he’d had his heart ripped out by his bitch fiancée and so-called best friend, but he had no idea what it was to be considered a loser by everyone. She had no idea how wrong she was about that, and he couldn’t read her thoughts to tell her otherwise. Still, she just allowed herself to melt into his big, strong arms one more time, but she didn’t completely yield to him.

There was a wall between them now. Neither one of them wanted it. Neither one really knew where it had come from, and neither knew how to tear it down. They could just look over it at each other and wish it wasn’t there. Their love for each other was stronger than ever, and yet something was keeping them apart. They split up and spent the rest of the day working with different people individually on various battle moves.

Time flies when you’re having fun, and neither Floyd nor Mikki were having any fun. The day dragged. And dragged. And dragged. Everything seemed mundane. Boring. The time-space continuum was somehow lagging about half a second behind reality, and the entire universe was disjointed. The sun could spin off in any direction at any moment.

It didn’t of course. It just kept shining down on the earth, bathing it in light and warmth, as if nothing at all was wrong. It mocked them both.

But eventually, the sun grew weary of its mockery, relinquished its hold on daylight, and slowly slipped off to sleep along with the rest of the camp. Floyd and Mikki mounted the big tanker again. Floyd thought of reminding Mikki not to smoke while they were up there, seeing as how it was full of gasoline, and all, but he decided against it. Mikki was clearly still brooding and was in no mood for humor. Besides, she just might light up to be defiant and blow them both all to hell. You could never tell about such things with Mikki. Fortunately, she never pulled out her pack of cigarettes that night.

Once again, the night passed uneventfully. They spoke five fewer words to each other that night than they did the night before. They spent the entire shift without ever looking each other in the eye.

The two were both relieved to see the sun return. Well, not return, exactly. The edge of the horizon had just started to brighten when their relief showed up to take the next watch. The two men tried to make small talk but neither Floyd nor Mikki were in the mood. Both were exhausted from and emotionally draining, very long day. Floyd and Mikki and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. They would have felt better if they had spent the entire night screaming at each other, but there was nothing to scream about. They were both screaming on the inside for no apparent reason.

They walked in silence to the Doom Buggy to get their bedrolls. Just as they arrived, Mikki grabbed Floyd and pulled him to her, kissing him passionately. It was like she had never tasted him before, and couldn’t get enough of him. Yet, just as abruptly, she broke off the kiss, her eyes downward.

Floyd lifted her chin, looked into her eyes, and smiled. She gave a little giggle and smiled back. Then she laid her tiny, soft hand against his scruffy cheek. Floyd gently took her hand and kissed it, then they grabbed their sleeping bags and stretched out under the stars near the buggy. Both were confident that the night guards would alert them if any danger appeared.

The last thing Floyd saw was Mikki’s face, smiling over at him from her sleeping bag. He smiled back and closed his eyes. Everything was fine, as long as they were together. No doubt, tomorrow would be a better day.

The sun was not Floyd’s friend. It rudely interrupted a very nice dream. He tried ignoring the rising ball of fire, but it was no use. His ears betrayed him as well. Sounds of the camp coming to life and voices of various Freedom Riders dragged Floyd away from his slumber and would not let him go.

Sounds of vehicle doors opening and closing. Sounds of the wind blowing through the camp. Sounds of people talking. Sounds of people moving.

“Mikki!” Floyd sat bolt upright. The one sound he didn’t hear was Mikki. No cute girlish snoring. No fitful babbling in her sleep. No breathing. He looked over at her sleeping bag and it was empty. What the hell? Where was she?

Then he saw it. A pile left on Mikki’s sleeping bag. A pile that Mikki would never have left behind. Not unless she didn’t plan on coming back. All of her heavy weaponry was there, including Bonnie, but there was something else.

Mikki kept a small notebook on her at all times. Her little doodle pad. Every now and then, when they had time to kill, she would sit and draw and sketch. She never showed him what she was drawing, and he never asked. He figured if she wanted him to see something, show would have shown it to him. Now it was sitting on top of the pile, open to a blank page.

Well, not exactly blank. The page had a few words written on it. Words that ripped Floyd’s heart. “I love you, Floyd. I always will.”

Floyd panicked. He didn’t know what all this meant. He tried to jump up, but he was still in the sleeping bag, so he toppled right over, banging his head into the hard dirt. That was gonna leave a mark, but Floyd didn’t care. He clawed at the zipper and scrambled out of the bag.

He grabbed the notepad and looked at it again. He read the message a dozen times, hoping each time that it would tell him something different. Then he looked at the pile again.

Mikki’s helmet was gone. So was her katana. What else was missing from the pile? Bonnie was there…the Mini Uzi…her prize sniper rifle. Her pistols were missing and all of her hand grenades were gone. What the hell did it all mean?

She wasn’t abducted, or she couldn’t have left a note. But if she went somewhere, why leave him behind? The Doom Buggy was still there, so she didn’t drive away.

Floyd tried to calm down. So, she woke up before he did. So, she let him sleep in. So what? She had to be somewhere in the camp. Of course! She must be training some of the Freedom Riders. Or maybe she was visiting Becky. She was probably by the ambulance checking on Mya. There were dozens of places she could be. But there was a big ball of ice buried deep in his gut that he couldn’t ignore. He knew instinctively that she was none of those places. He knew that something was wrong. Something was terribly,
terribly
wrong!

He picked up the sleeping bags and Mikki’s gear and put everything in the Doom Buggy. He closed the notebook and buried it in his inside jacket pocket. Then he started searching.

The camp wasn’t that big, so there weren’t many places she could hide. If this was some kind of game or joke, it wasn’t fun and it wasn’t funny.

“Have you seen, Mikki?”

“No,” Jack answered. “I thought she was with you.”

“How about you? Have you seen Mikki?”

“Not this morning, Why?”

Floyd ran to the ambulance, certain he would find Mikki there. He was wrong.

“Doc! Have you seen Mikki?” Floyd was frantic now.

“Yeah, I saw her. Why?”

“When? When did you see her?”

“She was here yesterday morning.”

“What about today? Have you see her this morning?”

“No. I wouldn’t let her stay here anyway. Mya’s dying. I don’t need Mikki around here.”

“Dying? You can’t help her?”

“Why does everyone think I’ve got magic up my sleeves or something? No, I can’t help her! She’s infected. I can’t wave a magic wand and make it go away! I’ve not no penicillin, no antibiotics, or anything else that would help her. All I can do is keep her as comfortable as possible. Luckily, she hasn’t woken up yet, so—”

“Did you tell this to Mikki?” Floyd interrupted.

“Yeah. Yesterday. Why?”

“Oh, my God!” Floyd knew in an instant where Mikki was. He wished he was more of a praying man. He begged God to take care of her and bring her safely back to him. He clenched his throat and fought back the tears that were stinging the inside of his eyelids.

“Somebody’s coming!” one of the lookouts on top the tanker truck shouted.

Everyone moved to the side of the camp, just outside the ring of vehicles. Sure enough, a lone figure was walking slowly but steadily this way. The figure was dressed in black.

“Mikki!” Floyd cried.

He didn’t need binoculars to see it was her. He knew her walk even from a distance. Besides, she was carrying the katana at her side in her right hand, and held the strap of her large backpack that was slung over her shoulder with the left.

Floyd ran out to meet her. Jack, Raul and Carlos ran with him. They could tell something was wrong before they reached her. She was moving oddly and barely seemed to recognize them as they came up to her—not even Floyd. She just kept on walking toward the camp, like a robot programmed to return regardless of what got in its way.

Floyd couldn’t get her to stop moving forward. He unsnapped her helmet and pulled it off as she walked. Her eyes were wide open and unblinking. She had a vacant stare that was both frightening and creepy at the same time.

“Wow, she stinks!” Raul blurted, holding his nose.

“We call it Swamp Juice.” Floyd explained quickly. “Keeps brain-eaters away, but it’s pretty much worn off.”

“You mean it smelled worse before?” Raul asked, incredulously.

“Go get doc,” Jack told Raul, who tore off running like the wind.

“Mikki! Mikki! It’s Floyd! Can you hear me, baby? It’s Floyd!”

“What? Oh. Hi, Floyd,” Mikki said, her voice far away. She never even looked in his direction, she just kept on walking. “Gotta find Doc, Floyd. Doc. Gotta…find Doc.”

“Docs, comin’ baby! He’s on his way.”

Mikki kept walking forward, with everyone else walking ahead of her. If they stood in her way, she just pushed around them and kept walking. Floyd tried to take the backpack from her but she grabbed it tightly. “No!” she insisted. “Gotta find Doc.”

Raul came back driving his motorcycle, with Doc in the sidecar. The doctor was clearly annoyed.

“What’s this all about? I got a sick patient to tend to and—holy crap! What happened to her?”

“We don’t know. We’re hopin’ you can tell us!” Floyd answered, barely able to keep his tears in check.

“Doc?” Mikki muttered, her eyes focusing on the older man, as he stared into her eyes, checking her pupils.

Somehow, Doc’s presence snapped her back to reality. She held out the backpack, practically throwing it at him.

“Doc! Here, doc! All the medicine you need. Pennicillin, Ticarcillin, Augmentin, Imipene, buncha IV bags, even got Benadryl for allergic reaction. You fix Mya up good now, ya hear?”

She spoke in a daze. Doc unzipped the bag and found it was crammed full of pill bottles, medicine vials, a box of syringes, and various other sterile packages. It was a pharmacological treasure trove.

Mikki started wobbling and Floyd thought she was going to fall over, but she managed to keep on her feet. “Mikki, what happened? What did you do?”

“Had to get to the hospital. Had to get medicine. Had to help Mya.”

“Mikki! What..is…wrong?” Floyd tried yelling in her face, snapping his fingers in front of her eyes to get her attention.

She looked in his direction, trying to focus on his face.

“Oh, there you are, Floyd!” she said with a weak smile. “Hi, Floyd.”

“Mikki! Stay with me. Look at me. What…happened?”             

“Oh, I took me a couple shots of Morphinol, is all.”

“Morphinol? What the hell for?”

“Well, I kinda sorta maybe mighta…blown myself up a couple times when the creepers got too thick.”

Suddenly, the katana dropped to the dirt. Floyd bent over to pick it up. As everyone was distracted by the sword, Mikki’s eyes rolled back up into her head. She raised her chin and fell forward, landing flat on the side of her face in the dusty road. Everyone gasped.

“Oh my God!” Floyd cried.

She was wearing one of the motorcycle jackets they had taken from Groverstown. Despite the Kevlar reinforcement, the back of the jacket was completely shredded. Bits of shrapnel stuck out of the fabric in numerous places. Some of it had clearly made its way through, as blood streamed down Mikki’s back and legs. Looking behind her, Floyd noticed the thin trail of blood she had left in the dirt, as far as he could see.

Mikki continued mumbling as the men lifted her up and carried her to the ambulance. “Mya. Mya. Gotta save Mya. Doc! Doc. Gotta save Mya.”