Green Ice: A Deadly High (26 page)

“Are they there?” Jorge persisted.

Mancini pulled out the guy’s wallet but no keys. He held up the leather bound wallet for Jorge to see. Jorge snatched the wallet from Mancini’s grasp and opened it up.

“Try his other pockets and do it quickly,” Jorge snarled, rifling through the wallet. He took the guy’s driving license and other forms of ID and slipped them into his own pockets. “Th
ose might be useful when I’m getting away from here,” he muttered.

Mancini plunged his hand inside the dead guy’s other pocket and heard something metallic rattling inside.
He took a quick glance at the man’s blood strewn face and half expected him to suddenly lurch back to life and resume his attack.

“Come on, Mancini,” Jorge persisted, jabbing the gun barrel at the side of Mancini’s face. “Search him faster. I want to get out of here. The place is giving me the creeps.” He tossed the wallet onto the floor behind them.

Mancini’s fingers touched something metallic and he heard a jangle sound. He wrapped his thumb and forefinger around a bunch of keys and pulled them from the guy’s pocket. He held up the bunch by the chrome fob, next to the side of his head.

“A-ha!
I knew they were here someplace,” Jorge crowed, snatching the keys from Mancini. He searched through the bunch and found an elongated key with “
VW
” etched on the bow. “Okay, I’m out of here. But first, you will hand over your cell phone.” He took a couple of backward steps. “Stay on your knees and slide it to me across the floor.”

Mancini slowly took out his cell phone and reluctantly complied. Jorge quickly stooped down and scooped up the device.
Mancini suddenly wondered whether Jorge would go the whole nine yards and shoot him in the back. At first, he didn’t think he had the balls but now he was close to freedom, the circumstances had changed.  

“Only one last thing to say, Mancini – Close your eyes and pray to whatever God you believe in -
Adios, amigo.
”

Mancini faced the front door, waiting for the killing gunshot to come his way.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Starting the Thunderbird had proved difficult. The engine turned over but didn’t fire up on the first few attempts. Trey grew increasingly nervous about the amount of noise the whine of the starter motor and the rattling engine made when Sonny turned the ignition key.

Eventually, the engine fired and Trey opened the sliding doors in front of the vacant inspection pit. He flung the pile of tires aside and glanced nervously up and down the street, expecting to see an army of infected lurching towards them. Surprisingly, no contaminated people emerged from the main or side streets
and Trey wondered where the hell they’d all gone.

Sonny drove the Thunderbird inside the garage
nose first and Trey slammed the doors closed after Leticia hurried inside.

“Okay, let’s get to work,” Sonny sighed, leaping out of the driver’s seat. He marched over to the big red sets of drawers
, holding assortments of tools and picked out the ones he needed. Leticia stood next to Trey with her arms folded across her chest. Sonny set the selected tools down on a work bench beside the front of the Thunderbird. 

“Come
on, open up the hood again, will ya?” Sonny called, as he searched through the racks and shelves containing various spare vehicle parts.

Trey
moved towards the Thunderbird hood but Leticia grabbed his arm as he walked by. She quickly glanced at Sonny, who was searching through a cardboard box on one of the shelves fixed to the rear wall.

“We need to do something,” Leticia whispered, leaning close to Trey. “He’s going to kill us if we don’t escape.”

Trey nodded. “We’ll be okay, I promise,” he muttered.

“Hurry it up, Sweetheart. Open the
god damn hood,” Sonny shouted across the garage.

Trey reached down and briefly squeezed Leticia’s hand. He forced a smile before moving to the front of the car and opening the hood.
Leticia shuffled alongside him and he realized she was still terrified.

“Out of the way, give me some room,” Sonny demanded, as he
barged his way between Trey and Leticia with a bunch of black rubber hoses in his hands.

Trey glanced at Sonny and noticed both butts of the handguns protruded from the front of his waistband. He thought about going for one of the firearms but again he decided against it. He didn’t want to rile the guy and any botched escape attempt would end badly for him and Leticia.

“Stand over there and let me work,” Sonny instructed, gesturing to the side wall of the workshop.

Trey and Leticia shuffled to the wall and leaned against the concrete blocks.
Trey wanted a cigarette but remembered Mancini had the only pack. Sonny muttered and cussed under his breath as he fiddled around inside the engine compartment. He tossed several split hoses onto the ground beside the front of the car.

Leticia motioned with her head towards the large sliding door. Trey interpreted her signal as a gesture to make a run for it. He glanced at the doors but knew they’d never get them open in time and Sonny could aim and shoot at them before they even reached the exit.

Maybe Sonny wouldn’t kill them after he’d fixed the Thunderbird, Trey thought. Maybe he’d need them as a kind of shield. Sonny could obviously use a handgun and perhaps he’d keep them safe from the gangs of infected people roaming the whole of the Baja Peninsula. He and Leticia might even be onto a good thing.

The noise of something banging against the sliding doors jolted Trey from his inner thoughts. Leticia emitted a single shrill screech at the thumping sound. Sonny looked up from the engine compartment with a concerned expression on his face. 

“Quiet, you all,” he hissed.

The three of them stood in tension filled silence, waiting to hear if the sound returned.
Leticia gasped in shock when a hand smacked against the front door window. They saw a figure looming against the other side of the glass.

“Stay still,” Sonny whispered. “With any luck, it’ll go away real soon.”

“How far are you from getting done, man?” Trey whispered in return.

Sonny didn’t reply. He returned a grimace and flapped his hand, indicating for Trey to
be silent. They heard a long moan from outside then several more thumps across the sliding door. Leticia whimpered and Trey wrapped his arms around her. He looked over to Sonny, who gave him a nod of acknowledgement before he returned to work furiously on the engine.

The sliding door rattled in its frame and the hinges creaked. More thumping and banging continued on the outside panels and Sonny glanced up from the engine.

“You did bolt that sliding door, didn’t you?” he whispered to Trey.

Trey
briskly nodded. “Do they know we’re in here?”

“I don’t think so,” Sonny whispered. “They can probably just smell the T-Bird engine.”

Trey ushered Leticia deeper into the garage so they stood against the back wall. He leaned forward to get a peek inside the engine.

“I’m nearly there,” Sonny hissed. “A couple more hoses and I’m done. I just hope the damn water pump still works or we’re screwed.
It still looks okay.”

“Can they get inside here?” Leticia asked, glancing at the shadows bobbing by the front windows.

Sonny looked up. “If they see us, they’ll jump right in through those glass panes. We have to hope they go away before we start the car or they’re going to hear us in here for sure.”

Leticia hugged Trey tighter. “We’re never going to get out of here, are we?” she sighed.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Mancini waited for what seemed an eternity but still didn’t hear the anticipated gunshot from behind him. Instead, he heard a car engine rattle into life from outside the house. Jorge had left him in the hallway and was now making his escape in the VW Beetle. Mancini hauled himself to his feet and grimaced at the pain in his knee from the injury incurred when he’d slipped over. He didn’t have time to nurse his wound or rest up. He had to get back to the garage and somehow stop Jorge from leaving town or he’d be stranded. Jorge had his firearm and his cell phone, so Mancini knew he was going to have to do a lot of improvising.

Mancini hurried into the alley just in time to see the VW disappear from view amid a
foggy cloud spewing from the muffler. The car didn’t sound in great condition and was throwing out a lot of black smoke. Jorge turned right onto the side street and accelerated away in the direction of the town’s main thoroughfare.

“Shit,” Mancini hissed. He glanced around and saw the alleyway continued further down in a vertical route, behind the row of houses. He gambled that the alley must lead to the main street if he headed
deeper on through it.

The sunshades he’d picked up from the hallway floor luckily weren’t broken, only one of the arms was a little bent. Mancini slipped them on and ran further into the alley.
The pathway dog-legged to the left and Mancini came to an abrupt halt when he was faced with three infected people standing in a huddle across the width of the alley. The trio consisted of two tall males and a female. All of them looked as though they were in their late teens and wore the torn remains of basketball shirts, jog pants and white sneakers. One male had three blond streaks in the front of his hair and the other guy had a messy quiffed hairstyle. The female still had a gold ring on each blood stained finger and wore her long dark hair in a ponytail. The three zombie-like figures turned when they heard Mancini’s footsteps.

The male with the
blond streaks hissed at Mancini, his open mouth revealing broken and blood stained gold teeth. Mancini instinctively went to reach for his handgun in the back of his waistband.

“Shit,” he hissed, when he remembered Jorge had taken his Heckler and Koch firearm. He was going to have to either fend
off the ghouls with his bare hands or find an alternative weapon.  

The guy with the
quiff ran at Mancini, baring his teeth in a scowl and raising his arms above his head, with his fingers hooked like claws. Mancini could have easily dealt with one individual; he’d been fending off attacks from drug induced or hot headed guys most of his adult life but three infected personnel were going to be a big problem. He bounced on his toes and took up a boxer’s defensive stance.

Quiffed
guy swiped thin air as Mancini dodged backwards. Mancini delivered a couple of swift left hand jabs into the quiffed guy’s face and followed up with a right hand punch that would have knocked most people out. The quiffed guy rocked back and went down onto the ground on the seat of his pants but was soon scrabbling up to find his feet again. Snarling and shrieking, the female and the youth with the three blond streaks made a dash forward towards Mancini.

Mancini took a couple of backward steps. He glanced around in desperation, searching for something he could use as a weapon against the onrushing trio of infected.
A wooden pole, loosely propping up a wire fence to his right caught his immediate attention. Mancini dodged the female as she rushed at him and managed to deliver a blow with his elbow to the back of her head. She sprawled headfirst into the fence and her head and right arm entangled between the wire strands.

The guy with the
blond streaks took a swipe at Mancini with his left hand. Mancini ducked backwards, edging closer to the fence pole. He caught the guy’s hand as it brushed by his face and twisted around. Under normal circumstances, the guy would have cried out in pain and been rendered ineffectual but the infected didn’t seem to feel pain and he carried on with his attack on Mancini. Dodging the swatting hand, Mancini punched the guy directly on the bridge of his nose and released his grip at the same time. The infected young man rocked backwards, allowing Mancini a few seconds to try and retrieve the fence pole.

The wooden pole stood leaning at a slight angle
, with the wire strips wrapped around its shaft. Mancini grabbed the top of the pole and hurriedly wiggled it backwards and forwards, attempting to free it from the dusty soil. The wire rattled against the other poles, dotted at six feet intervals along the fence. The infected female thrashed around between the wire lengths in a frenzy to wrench herself free, a few yards from Mancini. The two contaminated male youths regained their balance, roaring with burning rage and preparing to pounce.