She approached slowly. Covered in white powder she looked like a ghost appearing out of a horror film. He briefly thought the look was appropriate with the zombie influx. “Can you give me a lift? I think my car’s totaled.”
“Sure, I’ll hel—"
They both turned toward rustling noises near her car. There was movement in the weeds and brush on the other side of the car where several barbed wire strands ran along the top of a rise. Then they clearly heard the guttural moans of several zombies in the still night. JR stood petrified. She’d seen firsthand what they could do to a living being, and she was poised to run.
Sam yelled as he gave the young woman a gentle shove while pulling his handgun. “Lady, if you need anything from your car, get it now, hurry damnit, move,” He fired at two undead struggling in the barbed wire above the dark green two-door Chevy Malibu. Dim moonlight made him miss the first shots at each zombie. He told himself to remain calm, took a deep breath, aimed and fired again but slightly higher. JR snapped out of her doldrums and scurried through tall grass down the embankment toward the zombies. She dove headfirst inside the car far enough to grab the three bags and drag them toward her. Sam kept an eye on the woman while making a slow pirouette to check the ebony night for unseen danger. JR clutched her bags tight and scurried slipping and sliding up the embankment. She was terrified of being attacked and transformed into a zombie like her family. When she reached the passenger door, Sam stood on the truck’s doorsill and flipped the door locks. The stranger yanked the door open and tossed her bags in the passenger side of the truck. Sam shot two more zombies that had breached the barbwire. Four undead were down when Sam closed the door and hastily pulled away as several more zombies appeared at the edge of his headlight beams. He suspected they had been farmers caught unaware of the danger; one husky, older form wore bib overalls and a blue baseball cap. That man even showed a farmer’s tan up to his tattered short sleeved shirt.
JR felt disconnected. Things were happening too fast and putting her mind in overload. Nothing was left of her life but three bags of miscellaneous stuff at her feet.
“What’s your name miss, and where are you headed?”
“JR Johns . . . I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t have anybody to go to. My family was killed by zombies this afternoon in Lawton. I don’t know what to do . . . where are you going?”
“Canada . . . do you have money with you?”
“A little, not much, maybe fifty at most. There’s a little room left on a credit card, but not over four or five hundred dollars or so.” She stiffened. “Why do you need to know how much money I have? Are you going to try to take it?”
“Your family is dead, and you don’t have anywhere to go. If you want, you can go to the Canadian border. With me. But you’ll need to help pay expenses. Soon paper money will be useless and credit companies will be shutting down their cards, if they haven’t already. We’ll maximize the amounts on all our credit cards first, then try to spend the paper money before people refuse to take it.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “You really think that will happen? This is America. That can’t happen here. Surely this is temporary.” She sat against the door staring at him fearfully. “I guess next you’ll want sex from me for a ride clear to the border.”
Sam stared at her harshly. “Boy! You sure have a mouth on you. No. I’m not trading a ride for sex.” Sam chuckled dryly, “of course, when you see what a stud I am, you might change your mind and beg me to take you . . . what should I call you?”
“Like hell I’ll beg. I’m JR.
“Nice to meet you JR, I’m Sam. We’re nearing Gotebo, I need to stop there a few minutes at a man’s house and see if he’s home.”
JR turned to him fearfully. “Why, what’s there? What are you going to do? Is he going with us?”
“Calm yourself, he’s a gun dealer. If you’re going as far as the border with me, I need to buy a few more guns. Can you shoot? If not, I’ll teach you. You’ll have to pull your own weight and share the responsibility and work.”
“I can shoot, my dad taught me. And I’m pretty good. Won a few trophies in tournaments at a local gun club.” JR was fearful. She didn’t know this man enough to trust him. But with a choice of him or the zombies outside, she accepted he was her only option. But that could change in the next few hours or days.
“What kind of handgun did you learn on?”
“A revolver, Smith and Wesson .38 caliber.”
“You’ll need a thigh holster, and you can put one of my .40 caliber Glocks in it. I’ll give it to you without a loaded magazine. Glocks don’t have a safety switch. They’re to be carried hot with a bullet in the chamber ready to fire. Get used to handling it without touching the trigger, or you’ll shoot yourself trying to pull it from the holster. When you’re comfortable with it, you can insert a loaded magazine.”
“Like Barney Fife being allowed one bullet but only in his shirt pocket, huh?”
Sam grinned smugly. “Yeah, something like that, I guess.”
JR giggled and relaxed. A little.
At Marbry’s house, Rick and his wife and two teenagers were
