Those boots had uncounted stories on them, one for every scuff, scrape and scar marring their surface. Paul's jeans, when Max could see them looked to be stained black over their natural faded blue color, probably it was blood. The man looked too young to own his own business, but if his business only consisted of towing, maybe he was the owner. The super zombie's blond hair was clipped short and he had a tan line across his forehead, as if he were used to wearing a hat. Paul's eyes were almost black, like he had been in a serious fist fight and lost. Max had not seen any bruising of that sort on a super zombie before, it wasn't just around his eyes either, his eyes themselves looked like black pupils. Reasoning with it was probably not out of the question, but bullets were simpler.
Paul's head popped up between the wrecker and the vehicle it was towing, right where Max suspected it would. He let his breath out and pulled the trigger. Even three days ago he would not have made the shot, it was eighty yards or so in low wind conditions and a human head is a small target. However Max had been getting a lot of practice in the last few days and the back of the very surprised zombie's head blew a small mist of red into the afternoon air. Turning sideways, but very slowly Max trained his rifle on who he thought was the second fastest zombie. The almost intelligent ones were looking for the shooter, they didn't have him spotted yet and that hindered their ability to take cover. Max shot another one before they pinpointed his location. They took cover from him at precisely the wrong moment, leaving their slower walking kin still advancing on the wrecker. It was the wrong moment because Stewart had hopped out of the wrecker to make sure the super zombie was dead. This put her parallel to the other zombies, and provided them with no cover from her. Three quick shotgun blasts rang out, then a fourth one. Max got up and was running forward, pausing only to knock off one of the slow zombies before it reached the back of the car attached to the wrecker. In a few minutes all the zombies were down again, permanently.
Max grinned at Stewart, while still keeping watch beyond her.
“That went better than expected.” he said.
“We are getting good, let's just not get cocky. You reloaded?”
“Yep, like you taught me.”
“Good. Do you think that is all of them?”
“I don't have any tingly sensations that make me think we are being watched, if that is what you mean.”
“I don't either and it was. I think we either got them all or scared any other super zeds off.” Although Stewart was half joking about the tingling sensations, they had all seemed to notice that their senses seemed extra sharp. Stewart chalked it up to the way they had to live these days, that they were all getting back to their more raw, brutal instincts. Max was not so sure, he thought the experience was shaping them into fighters and survivors, but something else seemed to be going on as well. Max had been shot, grazed really, about a week ago and the wound was almost fully healed. It seemed unnatural. Tom, for instance, had felt sure his arm or collarbone had been broken back at the MAC Co. building where they worked. Yet he had discarded his sling last night after only having it on for six days. He said he felt fine. Max knew better than to talk to Stewart about it, she didn't like to think about the changes that they had gone through and talking about it, meant thinking about it.
Chapter 4
Trisha was back. Bill was relieved when she pulled in after being gone for over four hours. He wanted to be mad, in fact he approached the car angry, then stopped and checked his emotions, she was back with John and that is all that mattered. The car was filled to the brim with goods, in fact it was riding pretty low on its chassis, making Bill wonder just what did she buy?
“Howdy.” Bill said without any fanfare when Trisha finally shut off the car in the garage.
“You mad? You are aren't you?”
She always could read him. Bill sighed heavily, “Let's just say I was growing concerned. Cable is down, the regular stations are broadcasting news of some fighting going on in Nebraska and even in Kansas City. You two weren't back and with the cell phones out…I was concerned.”
“We had guns. You knew we would be safe.”
Bill wanted to point out that other people had guns too, but eighteen years of marriage had taught him that pointing out every flaw, every problem with every statement, only led to more arguing. Besides, he was not mad, he told himself again. Instead he said, “Holy Christ on a crutch, did you leave anything in the store?”
“Not much.” Trisha admitted sheepishly.
“Any money left?”
“Well, I kept the receipts in case we need to send the kids to college after all. I still have about twelve hundred.”
Bill didn't know precisely how much was in the 'college' fund, it was Trisha's idea to hold back some money for the kids education and she had an uncanny ability to know when Bill had any extra money. For years now she had hit him up for every ten, twenty or even more that he had in his wallet and vanquished it to the mysterious 'college fund' she kept for the kids. He thought it had to be around ten thousand dollars. Some people would have been worried about having that much money in the house, but Bill wasn't, if Trisha hid the money so well he couldn't find it, and he had looked, then he was pretty sure it was not going to walk out the door with their television if a burglar came calling.
“Was that a lot?” Bill asked, fishing for a number to confirm his estimate.
“A very, very lot. I think this is the real deal Bill, not some minor terrorist attack. I think this could be Armageddon.”
Trisha was big on that religion stuff too, Armageddon was something she seemed to live for. Bill went along with it, after all he had his quirks as well and her focus was preparation for the end, not only spiritual, but physical as well. The kids tended to follow Bill's outlook towards religion, which was using it as a safety net, an hour a week in a meeting house with people you generally liked was a small price to pay if Occam's logic ended up being correct.
“I got you something too.” said Trisha.
“You did? What? Gimme, gimme, gimme!” Bill said imitating John when he was two at Christmas, the statement had become a bit of a family inside joke with even John saying it when gifts were mentioned.
“Not until the car is unloaded. In fact I got everyone something or three or four somethings. Once we get the stuff put away we can dole them out, or better maybe tonight after dinner we can have a Christmas in July sort of thing, to celebrate the end of days.”
Bill groaned, knowing how well that would go over with the kids if they knew they had gifts, they were like every other kid in the world and had the patience of Mayflies.
As they unloaded the car Trisha took select bags out herself and squirreled them away to the master bedroom, and she didn't mention any gifts to the kids. Almost nothing of what she had bought was perishable. The groceries were dried foods, like pasta, rice and beans or canned, mostly soups and fruits. Bill noticed that she had bought very few vegetables, which made sense, Trisha had stocked up on things not grown in Iowa. And then there was the toothpaste. Trisha had what looked like half a pallet of the stuff in the trunk.
“Why so much toothpaste?” He asked her as he hauled in yet another bag of the stuff.
“Barter. I figure things will hit the fan soon and we will not want to trade away food or ammo or clothing, so I bought toothpaste. Everyone will want it when they run out, so I got some. And a bag of toothbrushes too.”
Going through the bags Bill found some full of underwear, socks and t-shirts too. Everyone had at least three new pairs of jeans and the kids all had new pajamas, though admittedly they were summer wear as the stores were not yet stocking stuff for the cold winter months.
Sorting out the goods took them another hour, with the toothpaste and other 'trade' goods going into the basement to be stored in the back room and the other things being placed wherever they would fit. A car load of goods was absorbed pretty easily in a house as large as theirs was. At the end of the day Bill and the family were out on the back porch having a family dinner while Bill grilled up steaks.
