asked.
“Lompoc is a war zone now,” John said, spitting on the ground.
“You mean zombies?” Benji asked sheepishly.
“Yeah,” John said, “sure. We still got those. Plus there is
the damn Unity Gang to worry about now.”
“What is the Unity Gang?” Tom asked innocently.
“Hell on earth, son,” John said causally. “It's a collection
of bikers and rival gangs that got together after Z-Day to wreak havoc on the
last of the living.”
“You mean like a pack of outlaws?” Joel asked.
“Exactly,” John responded. “Like a mega gang. They got a
little bit of everything. Crips. Bloods. Latin Thugs. Hell's Angels. You name
it. If the damned zombies don't get you, the Unity Gang will. All they live for
is to rape, kill, and pillage. They do murder just for sport. That's why we
can't never be too careful.”
“That sounds terrible,” Benji said with a visible shudder.
“You got that right,” John agreed. “A lot of good citizens
just barricaded themselves in after the zombies started eating people. Not the
Unity Gang. They preyed on the weak, using the natural goodness of people and
their basic human decency against them, tricking them into opening up their
doors so they could bring helter skelter down on 'em.”
This is the last thing we need, I thought. More
complications. I wondered if we would be able to talk John into giving us a
car with some gas and getting us on our way.
“Most folks were too scared to do anything about it. They
sat back and watched as these animals took advantage of their neighbors,
praying it wouldn't be them next. It's enough to make a good man sick to his
stomach.”
“So you armed yourselves and took a stand against them?”
Joel asked. John smiled at him. He obviously liked the way Joel thought.
“You bet we did,” John said. “We took back a bunch of
neighborhoods from the dead and the damned, making a safe zone. We got food,
water, electricity, indoor plumbing. It's almost like it used to be. We make
sweeps outside the city looking for survivors and supplies when we're not on
duty.”
“You got clean beds?” Joel asked, sounding more and more
comfortable with the situation despite the fact we still had guns trained on
us. “We're exhausted and could use a good night's sleep.”
“Sure,” John shrugged. “We'll be glad to give you a ride and
get you all set up, just as soon as you strip down and let us examine you for
bite marks.”
I swallowed hard thinking about Sam. Right then and there I
knew I'd done the right thing. Benji gave me a look that said he understood why
I'd marched out into the middle of the road.
“Is that a problem, gentlemen?” John asked, noticing Benji
and me.
“Not at all,” Joel crowed, stripping down to his underwear
like it was a hot summer day and he was about to plunge into a cool lake. He
nodded to Tom who followed his lead. Benji and I did the same. John signaled
for one of the guys in the back of the truck. He came over with a flashlight
held in his teeth so he could hold onto his weapon. It reminded me of something
from the show Cops . He gave us a good onceover, then nodded to John.
“Well then,” John said. “Looks like this lot is cleared for
takeoff. Hop in the back and keep your heads down. Today's forecast calls for
lead showers and a hail of bullets.”
We dressed quickly and did as we were told. John got back in
and turned the truck around, driving us back toward the city again. Deep down
inside, I knew none of it mattered. Sam was dead no matter what I did. Giving
him his last few human moments without added fear of being cut in half by an
automatic weapon wasn't going to change his fate. Still a small part of me felt
better, like I had done something good and made a difference—even though
I hadn't, not really. I don't know if it was the sound of the wind rushing by
drowning out everything but the hum of the engine, or just the fact that I was
exhausted—but against all odds I slipped down in the bed
“Lompoc is a war zone now,” John said, spitting on the ground.
“You mean zombies?” Benji asked sheepishly.
“Yeah,” John said, “sure. We still got those. Plus there is
the damn Unity Gang to worry about now.”
“What is the Unity Gang?” Tom asked innocently.
“Hell on earth, son,” John said causally. “It's a collection
of bikers and rival gangs that got together after Z-Day to wreak havoc on the
last of the living.”
“You mean like a pack of outlaws?” Joel asked.
“Exactly,” John responded. “Like a mega gang. They got a
little bit of everything. Crips. Bloods. Latin Thugs. Hell's Angels. You name
it. If the damned zombies don't get you, the Unity Gang will. All they live for
is to rape, kill, and pillage. They do murder just for sport. That's why we
can't never be too careful.”
“That sounds terrible,” Benji said with a visible shudder.
“You got that right,” John agreed. “A lot of good citizens
just barricaded themselves in after the zombies started eating people. Not the
Unity Gang. They preyed on the weak, using the natural goodness of people and
their basic human decency against them, tricking them into opening up their
doors so they could bring helter skelter down on 'em.”
This is the last thing we need, I thought. More
complications. I wondered if we would be able to talk John into giving us a
car with some gas and getting us on our way.
“Most folks were too scared to do anything about it. They
sat back and watched as these animals took advantage of their neighbors,
praying it wouldn't be them next. It's enough to make a good man sick to his
stomach.”
“So you armed yourselves and took a stand against them?”
Joel asked. John smiled at him. He obviously liked the way Joel thought.
“You bet we did,” John said. “We took back a bunch of
neighborhoods from the dead and the damned, making a safe zone. We got food,
water, electricity, indoor plumbing. It's almost like it used to be. We make
sweeps outside the city looking for survivors and supplies when we're not on
duty.”
“You got clean beds?” Joel asked, sounding more and more
comfortable with the situation despite the fact we still had guns trained on
us. “We're exhausted and could use a good night's sleep.”
“Sure,” John shrugged. “We'll be glad to give you a ride and
get you all set up, just as soon as you strip down and let us examine you for
bite marks.”
I swallowed hard thinking about Sam. Right then and there I
knew I'd done the right thing. Benji gave me a look that said he understood why
I'd marched out into the middle of the road.
“Is that a problem, gentlemen?” John asked, noticing Benji
and me.
“Not at all,” Joel crowed, stripping down to his underwear
like it was a hot summer day and he was about to plunge into a cool lake. He
nodded to Tom who followed his lead. Benji and I did the same. John signaled
for one of the guys in the back of the truck. He came over with a flashlight
held in his teeth so he could hold onto his weapon. It reminded me of something
from the show Cops . He gave us a good onceover, then nodded to John.
“Well then,” John said. “Looks like this lot is cleared for
takeoff. Hop in the back and keep your heads down. Today's forecast calls for
lead showers and a hail of bullets.”
We dressed quickly and did as we were told. John got back in
and turned the truck around, driving us back toward the city again. Deep down
inside, I knew none of it mattered. Sam was dead no matter what I did. Giving
him his last few human moments without added fear of being cut in half by an
automatic weapon wasn't going to change his fate. Still a small part of me felt
better, like I had done something good and made a difference—even though
I hadn't, not really. I don't know if it was the sound of the wind rushing by
drowning out everything but the hum of the engine, or just the fact that I was
exhausted—but against all odds I slipped down in the bed
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