Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Justin freeze. She could tell he didn’t know what he should do next. Paxton grabbed Nate, swinging him around, causing the knife to leave an ever so slight slash across her collarbone. Scarlett caught her reflection in the African mirror over the fireplace mantle and was startled as a line of bloodletting drops instantly seeped through her skin, creating a ruby-red ribbon of blood. Scarlett stood up, knees weak, but collapsed to the floor out of sheer terror. She saw Justin grab Ella’s hand, and the two of them bolted out the front door.
Paxton and Nate rumbled on the floor, but Nate’s wiry frame could not hold off Paxton for long, no matter what kind of drugs the druggie had in his system. Paxton gained control of the situation and towered triumphantly over Nate. “You Fucker!” Paxton glowered while Nate whined and rolled about on the floor in obvious pain.
LuLu came running into the den with a first aid kit; her deadpan expression showed no signs of empathy as she helped Scarlett to the couch. Scarlett noticed Paxton’s eyes darting about the room frantically, and he went tearing down the hall.
Oh please, oh please let Justin and Ella escape!
Despite her fear, she attempted to distract Paxton with an argument. Scarlett yelled to him from the den, “What’s going on with you and Nate? Are you both insane?”
Suddenly Paxton returned to the den, staring her down. Scarlett winced involuntarily, sensing his intense anger that seemed to devour her like acid dissolving flesh. She found herself lost in a moment of agonizing pain. The sting from the ointment that LuLu had applied on her slash brought her out of the momentary vision just as the sound of an engine got their attention. Paxton dashed out the door, Uzi in hand.
Scarlett felt the tears burning down her cheeks, and she didn’t even care if LuLu thought she was a wimp. All of this was too horrid for Scarlett to comprehend. How could people be so evil, especially after all that had happened these past few months? Shouldn’t people band together during a crisis like this? This madness was beyond her comprehension of the human race.
“You’ve got to get out of here and save Ella.” LuLu looked straight through her. “Nate wants to—” LuLu couldn’t seem to say it, whatever it was. But Scarlett got the idea.
LuLu continued to dab ointment (not so gently) on Scarlett’s slash. “Don’t know if this antibiotic stuff works, expired last year. Look, I know I ain’t exactly been nice to you,” LuLu forced a fake smile, which looked more like a grimace. “I never did care much for your type,” she seemed distant.
“What do you mean ‘my type?’ ” Scarlett took offense.
LuLu waved her hands emphatically in the air, “Little Miss Goody Two Shoes, the whole I’m so better than thou shit. Guess it ain’t your fault God dealt you a perfect life. I probably wouldn’t hate you so much if you weren’t so damn smart and pretty too. Some people got all the luck in the world.” LuLu seemed lost in thought.
Scarlett didn’t know how to respond.
“I spent my entire life going from one shithole to the next, always trying to upgrade to a better man. Finally got a decent job as a waitress in Woodland and was finally doin’ it all on my own. Then this shit happens, and who do I get stuck with—these two sick bastards.”
“We can all escape together!” Scarlett exclaimed somewhat taken aback by LuLu’s outburst, but still feeling the need to save her from Paxton and Nate.
“Shut your mouth. Nate might hear you.” The look in LuLu’s eyes as she glanced over her shoulder was that of pure fear.
Nate squirmed around on the floor and practically crawled to the hallway and into one of the bedrooms; they could hear him ranting and throwing things around.
“God knows it’s too late for the likes of me. I’m a lost soul doomed to an eternity in hell—the things I’ve done in my life . . . Someone like you would never understand.” LuLu stared at Scarlett accusingly. “But, Ella, we’ve got to save her,” LuLu whispered.
Was that a tear?
LuLu’s eyes shimmered over. Scarlett was speechless while LuLu sat next to her. LuLu did have a heart after all.
Scarlett started to get up, wanting to peek out the window, anxious to see any signs of Justin and Ella, thinking it was a good sign that Paxton hadn’t returned yet. LuLu yanked her back to the couch.
“I was sixteen when I escaped my trailer-trash life in the middle of the night on the back of a Harley with promises of love and happiness—”
Why did LuLu pick this very moment for a heart to heart?
Really, now—of all times?
Scarlett wanted to run out the front door but felt obligated to listen to LuLu.
“He turned out to be a scumbag. After our month long fling across Southern California, he traded me to a motorcycle gang for some Bettie Page chick. Come to think of it, she did look a lot like you.”
Scarlett gasped, now engrossed in LuLu’s impromptu confession.
No wonder she hates me!
“I never was the same after that. Spent the rest of my life in survival mode, going from gang to gang, always depending on a man. Never was brave like you—” LuLu looked away.
Scarlett thought she caught a glint of compassion in LuLu’s eyes. “Why didn’t you just go back home?” Scarlett really didn’t understand how people let themselves fall so low.
LuLu’s brief moment of compassion quickly eroded to contempt, “And then what—end up all alone like my lonely, loveless mother,” LuLu snapped.
“LuLu, we can all escape,” Scarlett promised.
“That’s another thing I hate about you. You’re always so, so damned optimistic,” LuLu hissed, back to her usual bitchy self.
Scarlett stood up; she desperately needed to look outside. Once again, LuLu snatched her arm, forcing her to sit back down on the couch.
Great!
Scarlett gingerly grasped the gauze LuLu had wrapped around her wound, suddenly realizing that if the blade had been a millimeter deeper: she’d be dead. Would she really turn into a creeper?
“I’m serious, we can all escape together,” Scarlett said again, trying to hide her impatience.
Please let Justin and Ella escape!
“Did I ever tell you?” LuLu paused for a moment as if thinking back. “It was Ella that saved me back when things first started going crazy? Back before anyone really knew what was happening. If she hadn’t let me in the van—” LuLu shivered. “I couldn’t outrun those things forever. They were everywhere. Ella gave me something to live for. Gave me a
reason
to want to keep living, kept me going until Dean found us. God bless his—”
Scarlett interrupted, “LuLu, I hate to be so blunt, but you’ve got to get yourself together. Now’s the time to get out of here!”
“Have you not listened to a damn thing I’ve said? I could never go out there, like you. I’m scared shitless of those, those things. I won’t survive one night out there.”
Scarlett had never thought of that. LuLu used her bitchiness to hide her fear: it was all a cover-up. Scarlett certainly didn’t consider herself brave. Not at all. She went out there in the creeper infested world to survive—not to hide. LuLu had it all backward. Scarlett was scared to death most of the time. The difference between LuLu and her—Scarlett had always depended on herself (and her dear sister at times) to make it through life; she never had a constant man in her life to depend on.
There had been Kevin, but he had been more of a hindrance than a help. Then a thought came to her, an epiphany of sorts. Is that why all of her romantic relationships ended so badly? Did men find her intimidating? She certainly didn’t see herself as a powerful woman.
Guess I am a little headstrong
. All of these thoughts swirled around her head, wanting answers now: right now. But now, was not the time to figure out her life story. Now, she needed to focus on getting out of here.
Scarlett heard scuffling noises on the porch, then yelling and crying. The voices came closer, louder. Her heart faltered.
They didn’t get away . . .
“I’ll do what I can to help you escape,” LuLu said briskly.
“But why, if you hate me so much, why help me get away,” Scarlett asked.
LuLu’s eyes narrowed. Scarlett swore she saw her own reflection in LuLu’s eyes shrouded by specks of hatred and fear. It must have been one of her bizarre vision-like-images playing tricks on her.
“Don’t you see? If they have you—they don’t need me!” LuLu seethed as if the words barely squeezed through her clenched teeth.
The front door flew open, and Paxton shoved both Justin and Ella inside by the scruffs of their jackets, dragging them into the den proudly like he had just captured the prized lions on a safari hunt. Scarlett’s heart sank.
“Justin, on the porch. Guard Duty. Ella, sit your pretty, little ass down in that chair and don’t move a muscle.” Paxton pointed to the black recliner Nate had been sitting in.
Justin charged Paxton in an attempt to protest, but Paxton merely held him back with one hand. Justin, although quick and nimble, could not overpower the brawny, muscular man.
“Since all of you seem to have a soft spot for sweet, little Ella—she’ll be my insurance policy—keeping you all in line. We’ve had enough fun for one day. I’m the bossman now. Forget about Dean. He can’t save you,” he said, looking directly into Scarlett’s eyes.
She could feel the cold steel of his grey eyes cut into her like the knife-slash that still stung.
He dug through his duffle bag and tossed something blue to LuLu. “Tie Scarlett to the couch. All you
girly-girls,
” he emphasized, “are sleeping in the den with me.” It was an apparent warning.
Justin’s high pitched voice pleaded, “WTF? Dude, this is messed-up. Like, what’s wrong with you?” Justin was furious.
“I told you to take point,” Paxton ordered.
“Ye-ah, I heard you the first time. Like I need a gun—don’t ya
know?” Justin said it so sarcastically, Scarlett was sure Paxton was going to give him another black eye.
“I’ll be right here, holler if were being invaded,” Paxton snickered.
Paxton yanked Ella by her hair in a threatening gesture.
“Ye-ah, OK, I’m going—but don’t you touch her!” Justin’s nostrils flared. He stormed out in a fury.
Paxton dug in his duffle bag again and opened a pharmaceutical bottle. “One for each of the girly-girls, don’t worry it’s only a sedative. I need some peace and quiet,” he seemed exasperated with them all.
LuLu held out her hand for a pill.
“Not you, I said girly-girls,” Paxton sneered. “I’m thinkin’ you ought to tend to Nate. He could probably use a quick blow to help take his mind off the pain if you know what I mean,” Paxton said while leering at Scarlett and grabbing his groin. “Tomorrow, baby. Tomorrow I’m really going to show you who the bossman is,” he bragged.
Scarlett wanted to vomit. The whole thing made her sick to her stomach; her only consolation was that Paxton had been looking at her and not Ella when he had said it.
Scarlett thought it extremely odd to see LuLu bustling about making the morning coffee and cheerfully placing several varieties of boxed cereals in the center of the kitchen table. Then she proceeded to set the table with bowls, napkins, and spoons. Justin and Ella were already sitting at the table, speechless.
“Anything I can do to help,” Scarlett asked.
“Sit,” LuLu pointed to a chair.
As Scarlett scooted into a chair next to Ella, LuLu bent down and whispered, “Don’t drink the coffee—sip at it.”
Puzzled, Scarlett glanced at Justin and Ella, and the two nodded as if they were all in on something: a plan. LuLu must have put something in the coffee.
LuLu went around the table filling each coffee mug in what reminded her of a scene from an old television show. Aunt Marge loved that show as she recalled. LuLu looked like Flo, without the candy-pink waitress uniform. Scarlett could actually envision LuLu spouting off, “Mel, kiss my grits,” to Paxton. The comedy scene played out in her mind until she actually wanted to laugh; then the Stockton Boys joined them. She quickly tensed.
“So boys and girls, this is how it’s going to playout,” Paxton said, taking a swig of coffee. He gagged. “You call this coffee? What is this shit?”
“Sorry, I made the coffee this morning,” LuLu began.
Paxton waved her off. “As I was saying, we play by my rules now.” Paxton beamed with satisfaction.
“About f’in time!” Nate chipped in.
“You do what I say when I say, and we’ll all be one big happy family,” he smiled. It was a sadistic smile.
“We’ll be staying here for a couple of days for some good old-fashion R and R,” he looked directly at Scarlett, “Then we’ll be taking a little road trip.”
“So we aren’t going back to Vacaville for Dean and Luther?” Justin seemed surprised.
“Hello?” Nate rattled. “You a fuckin’ moron?” Nate snorted his usual vile laugh. “It’s Vegas baby! All the blow and whores we want.”
“Aren’t we going to Texas?” Justin started.
“Fooled ya,” Nate snorted again.
“Ha, the state of Texicution—don’t think so. Not really my cup of tea, if you know what I mean,” Paxton snickered, lifting his pinky finger as he took another drink of coffee.
“WTF! Guys, spoiler alert, Las Vegas is probably a mega-metropolis of zombies. Like, how could you NOT figure that out,” Justin retorted as if they were idiots.
Paxton yawned, “Too bad, so sad, we’re going to Vegas,” he eyed Scarlett suspiciously, “Why aren’t you drinking your coffee?”
“It sucks,” Scarlett said vehemently, apparently catching him off guard. A tense laughter rattled the room. Scarlett pretended to take a drink and hoped she hadn’t blown it.
“Now, to keep the peace, I got this special, very special,” he arched one brow wickedly, “contraption for the troublemakers. It’s in the back of the truck. Come on now, let’s go check it out.”
“Yeah baby, it’s a cage. Like the one we had in Stockton. Had ourselves some fun in the early days, didn’t we, Paxton? Didn’t we, didn’t we?” Nate ranted, prancing around the truck like a rabid hyena. “Look-e-here! It’s got—”
“Nate, shut your f’in’ trap. Let the suspense kill them—if the zombies don’t first. So, if you three get any ideas of escaping or disorderly conduct—you’ll be zombie bait. Capiche?” Paxton said, emphatically looking from Scarlett to Ella to Justin, giving them each his cold-stone glare; the glare that confirmed he meant every word he said. “If any one of you fucks up, Ella pay’s the price.”
Nate rubbed his hands together and smacked his lips repeatedly, “Boy howdy, I can’t wait. Paxton, can we try it out for size? I wanna see how ‘teach’ looks behind those bars. She do remind me of that first ho we found,” that sickening laugh of his haunted the chilly morning. “Man, I can still hear her screams beggin’ me to let her out before they—”
“Enough!” Paxton shouted, cutting off Nate in the middle of his sickening bragging.
Scarlett’s stomach turned, and her knees went wobbly. She realized that the Stockton Boys were much more dangerous than she had ever realized: more dangerous than the creepers. Now she understood the urgency of her ominous vision-dreams; the dreams had been warning her of Paxton and Nate and had not been for Dean and Luther.
Ella was stunned, her mouth wide-open in a silent scream. Justin rushed to Ella’s side, holding her. Scarlett could tell Justin was about to lose it: his teeth grinding, his jaw flexing, his nostril’s flaring. A defiant expression swept over his face, and Scarlett knew Justin was going to punch Nate. She stepped next to Justin and shook her head no while Paxton was busy checking the door to the cage. He sprayed the hinges with WD-40 and then tested the swing of the door as if it were a threat.
Scarlett had to think and think fast. She needed some sort of a plan, anything to get away from these evil bastards. “So, tell me, why are we all outside like this without any guards,” Scarlett questioned, wanting to find out as much information about the area as possible.
“Ha, ha we been busy these past few weeks ‘teach.’ While you all were busy playing house, we’ve been busy securing this whole area. Got ourselves a shitload of supplies. And,” he snorted his hyena laugh again, “and all those times Paxton said there ain’t no more gas, we was storing it all here. Member all those times the generators died? That was us, stealing the parts we needed to get this place running on a generator,” Nate rambled on rather proudly.
Scarlett stared at him in utter amazement.
They’d been planning this for weeks!
Nate clapped his hands and started running around the yard. “Look-e see down there,” he pointed to the houses at the eastern end of the street where the court intercepted another residential street, “we got traps and barricades all along this here court,” Nate boasted.
“Nate, shut the fuck-up. Anybody ever tell you—you talk too much,” Paxton said, slamming the tailgate to the truck closed.
“Enough of ‘show and tell.’ Everyone inside,” Paxton ordered.
“I can’t wait, can’t wait. I wanna be first, can I huh, can I please?” Nate jumped up and down like a crazy stickman on a pogo stick.
“Nate, cool it, will ya? You’re too loud,” Paxton gave Nate an impatient look.
Nate yawned, “You da bossman,” he twitched and then let out a very vocal yawn.
Paxton seemed concerned and aimed his binoculars at the intersection down the street. “A horde’s approaching the outer perimeter. Inside,” Paxton’s tone was low and serious.
After getting over the initial shock of Paxton’s sickening plan, Scarlett finally gathered her wits and began surveying the area, remembering every detail of every house, including the barricades. She tried to see what was at the eastern-end of the neighborhood, but suddenly Paxton nudged up against her from behind.
“Recess is over teach,” Paxton whispered in her ear while grabbing a handful of her butt. “Inside boys and girls,” he singsonged.
Scarlett swore Paxton just yawned. She felt his hot-fowl breath lingering on the back of her neck like an evil mist. LuLu must have spiked the coffee with a sedative, but she had no idea how long it would take to work, or if it would even work at all. Paxton was much too vigilant, always on guard; she couldn’t see him falling asleep. Nate, on the other hand, was already showing signs of fatigue with erratic movements and slurred speech.
***
Nate groggily went inside as Paxton herded them all into the den, and then Paxton went to the garage, probably to check on the generator, he decided. Nate parked himself in one of the leather recliners and let out a yawn.
Time to catch me some zzzs and dream of Ella and the Zombies!
Nate was so ready to watch his favorite reality show: the reality show he had thought up all on his own back in Stockton. And this time, he was going to play it with Ella.
Ella and the Zombies!
He imagined the TV commercial showing scenes of the next episode, teasing him, taunting him, begging him to watch the show. And he couldn’t wait for his fave part, the part where he got to watch
them
eat her guts out and then watch her turn. Watch her turn from Miss Bambi-eyed to all zombie-eyed and shit, blood spurting out and guts spilling out all over the place.
He patted his pocket to make sure the cell phone was still there. He had charged it in his truck on the way back from the fire. It was always ready. Ready, so he could record “Ella and the Zombies” and watch it over and over, just like he had done back in Stockton when this whole Super-Summer flu shit started. It had been the best summer of his life, and now he couldn’t wait to have mo’ fun with Bambi and “the teach” and even mo’ fun with all those whores in Vegas.
Paxton yelled, “Nate, what the hell do you think you’re doing? We’ve got things to do.”
Yeah, Yeah, now what does Paxton want—Nate do this, Nate do that.
Yada Yada Yada . . .
Nate jumped up all obedient-like, “You da bossman,” he was so f’in’ tired of Paxton pushing him around like he was his fuckboy idiot. But it would all be worth it when he got to play with “Ella and the Zombies.”
“Nate, you’re in charge,” Paxton said, bossy as all get-out.
“Wha da fuck? Where you be going?” Nate started to argue.
“Jacked-up my truck the night of the fire. It twerks like a pole dancer—if you know what I mean,” Paxton said with a nasty grin.
Always with the sex stuff.
Oh yeah
, Nate played along with Paxton and his sick obsession with sex. Deep in his groin, he knew sex was evil. His mama done told him long ago, when he was six years old, told him that sex was the root of all evil, told him that every night before she went out to work her street corner.
Now it was his turn to save the world. And the way he saw it—was to get rid of all the whores. That way, men wouldn’t be tempted to do the evil deed. It was all them whores’ fault. Nate wondered why no one had thought of that before the Super-Summer flu. And as far as Paxton was concerned,
Oh yeah
, Nate knew how to play a playa; he wasn’t as stupid as he led everyone to believe. Lazy yes, but stupid—
Nah
, he believed in the KISS concept: Keep It Simple Stupid.
“Nate! Earth to Nate—keep your head in the game,” Paxton shouted.
Paxton’s annoying voice interrupted his thoughts again, “Where you gettin’ a truck around here?” Nate asked unable to hold back another yawn.
Paxton reached inside his green duffle bag (the bag with all the goodies), sitting by the front door and grabbed a pharmaceutical bottle. “Take a couple of these. I need you to stay focused,” Paxton said, downing a couple of pills before tossing the bottle to Nate.
“You da man,” Nate greedily eyed the bottle. Uppers meant he didn’t have to crash before the party started. He sho’ was tired of Paxton hoarding the narcotic supply. One day, one day he’d shoot Paxton right in the head and take over. One day. But not today; Nate wanted to get to Vegas first. Then he’d shoot the fucker dead in the head and record him turning all zombie-eyed. Add Paxton to his collection of zombie clips—now that was something worth waiting for.
“LuLu, I need a ‘refill to go’ of that disgusting coffee of yours. That reminds me, the ‘First Rule of the Day,’ from now on, Ella makes the coffee,” Paxton proclaimed.
Nate frowned,
Is Paxton ever gonna stop making up rules?
Paxton tossed him a roll of blue masking tape. “Tape their wrists behind their back—they won’t get very far,” Paxton ordered.
“But why you gotta go now,” Nate nearly whined, “It’s time to get the party started—if you know what I mean,” Nate snorted and grabbed his junk, wanting everyone to see.
Ooh wee, I’m so playin’ Paxton.
Won’t that fucker be surprised when I’m the bossman?
“Nate, ‘Rule Number Two,’ always be ready for a fast getaway. Anything could happen, anytime. Although, I seriously doubt Dean can track us here,” Paxton said.
He’s always such a f’in know it all.
Nate whooped, “Yeah, we really fooled Dean, hah Paxton? Yes-siree-Bob.” That was pretty damn smart to get rid of Dean and Luther all at the same time. That had been his idea—he was pretty sure, to trick Dean and Luther to go cruisin’ off to the zombie-infested airbase like that. The old fart ought to have known the place would be crawling with Zs. He and Paxton had checked out the air base from the get-go, and that place had been a fuckin’ zombie-zoo.
“There’s a nice, big-boy truck down the next street,” Paxton continued annoying Nate with his “self-impo-tent talk” as usual. “I’ll have to hot-wire it and jump-start it. Back in a few. Then my friend, then the fun begins.” Paxton finally left.
Nate felt a humdinger of a headache comin’ on. He needed a few minutes of peace so he could be ready to party. “I’m gonna party like it's 1999,” he whistled. Gonna save all the whores in the world then there will be a place for me and my mama in heaven
. Hot-damn, I just wrote me a f’in number one country hit . . . Save all the whores in the world!
LuLu handed him cup a coffee, “Looks like you can use some more caffeine.”
“Sho’nuff, in a minute. How about you tie them all up like Paxton says fo’ he gets his panties all in a wad.” Nate couldn’t keep from laughing.
I sho’ am a funny fucker—should of done stand-up comedy.
Now that would have been something. Woulda made his mama proud.