"You crossed over the white line," Dizz told Tracy, referring to her less than stellar parking job.
"Better than most times," she said looking down. "Now get back in."
"I'd rather go with you lady," Sty said. "It's way safer."
"Blow me," Dizz said as he determinedly got behind the wheel.
"Like a pinwheel?" Angel asked.
"No, he actually…"
"Dizz!" Tracy and Ryan yelled.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"I'll be right back. Okay?"
Dizz' thumbs up reply was about half mast.
"How about a little more enthusiasm?" Tracy asked him. He brought two thumbs way up and the cheesiest false smile he could muster. "Better, but not great,” she said as she went around to the front. Even behind an 8’ high, 4’ wide juniper she felt completely exposed. ‘Didn't even bring my gun. What the hell is wrong with me?’ She was torn between standing at her post or returning to get her weapon.
Dizz solved her problem as he came walking around the side of the Arby's. "You forgot your gun," he said. "So I brought it to you," he added needlessly.
"Dizz, you were supposed to stay in the car!"
"I figured you were going to need this," he said defensively.
Angel and Ryan rounded next.
"Guys?" Tracy asked exasperatedly.
"Eyean said he would look to see if they had any toys," Angel said excitedly. Ryan didn’t look Tracy in the face. He figured his sister could do the dirty work.
Sty came around last. "Don’t look at me lady, I wasn't gonna stay in there by myself."
"Fine! Dizz, give me the gun,” Tracy said, “We'll all go in and see if there’s anything we can use in there and then all of you are getting back in that car!"
Dizz looked thrilled that he didn’t have to go back just yet.
Tracy hoped the store was locked as she approached. The sun was at high noon and was doing little to shine any light into the store. The interior looked darker than it had a right to. It didn’t feel menacing, but 'inviting' was also another adjective she would not have used as a descriptor. The door swung open easily as she pulled on it. "Of course," she said sourly.
It was when she opened the second set of doors that reality made itself known. The air that poured around the group was thick with stench. Tracy was physically repelled; she stepped on Sty's foot as she retreated. He didn’t seem to notice as he was doing his best to get away also.
"Never really liked roast beef," Dizz said, almost removing himself to the other side of the parking lot.
"I don’t really want a toy Eyean!" Angel said as she rushed to meet up with Dizz.
Sty and Tracy pushed the first door closed in an attempt to stem the tide of poisoned air. Ryan placed his hands on the glass of the store front. Head bowed, he did his best to calm the currents in his stomach. He spat puddles as his salivary glands were working overtime.
Sty went over to egg his friend on and see if he could push him over the edge. "Man, that was almost as bad as if you went into a porta-potty and started dunking your head in for turds."
Ryan gagged again. Sty was loving it, a little more and victory would be his!
"It's like someone blended old moldy fish with road kill cat and then made…" Sty stopped short as Ryan's hands bounced off the glass from the impact of the zombie that slammed into the partition from the other side. Ryan jumped back.
"FUCK!" Ryan yelled in surprise, his stomach's earlier unrest completely forgotten.
"Eyean, Mom says you can't say Fuck!" Angel yelled across the lot.
The zombie slammed into the glass again. Tracy came up beside with the boys. Another zombie came up to the glass. This one didn’t slam up like its partner. Its eyes slid over towards the door.
"Whoa!" Sty said. "Did you guys see that? It looked over towards the door!"
"Did we pull or push that door open?" Tracy asked as she started to grab the kids’ shoulders and herd them back to the car.
"Pull," Dizz said as he grabbed Angel's hand.
"Thought so. Kids, run for the car NOW!"
The kids bolting for the car triggered some subliminal remembrance in the zombie’s rudimentary brain. Chase and pursue. The hunt for food, the most basic of all animalistic instincts and zombie thought. Tracy was rooted to her spot as the zombie met her in the eye – and then it bolted for the door.
‘Great, speeder!’ Tracy thought as the zombie began its pursuit which triggered in her the second oldest response known to all living kind, the need to save one's own ass!
Tracy didn’t stop to check on the advance of her enemy but the smell as it escaped the now defunct fast food restaurant told her all she needed to know. This was going to be a lot closer than she had hoped.
Ron watched as Tracy's car passed by. "She must have been able to get away," he said to his dad. Tony nodded once.
"Meredith and that big son of a bitch BT will be fine," Tony said. "We'll make sure of it."
"Thanks Dad." ‘The old man is determined, I'll give him that,’ Ron thought.
Ron was within a minute or so away from the Route 3, Route 1 interchange. "Dad, can you get on the radio and see if they've passed yet?"
Tony did as he was asked. When no response was received, Ron's hope began to spiral downward. If he drove forward and they hadn't passed yet, he would not be able to lay a trap. If he waited and they were already gone , h e didn’t want to dwell on that thought.
As they drove up the on ramp, Tony saved him the trouble of making a difficult decision. "Is that a cop car?" he asked.
"I don’t even see a car, Dad, much less what kind,” Ron responded. “Oh wait, there it is. How the hell did you see that?"
"Vitamins," Tony answered.
Ron stopped the truck and opened his door so he could prop the barrel of his Winchester 308 on the windowsill. Tony got out and placed his Browning 30-30 on the hood.
"Wrong family to mess with," Tony said as he adjusted his scope for the outgoing projectile.
"Is that them?" Kyle asked Job, pointing to the truck parked on the ramp.
"Yeah dipshit, she traded her red Subaru in for a silver pickup," Job said.
"Really?"
"No, not really." Job didn’t like this at all. He was traveling well over a hundred miles an hour; there was no margin for error. He could not maneuver at this speed, and something about the way that truck was just waiting there was unsettling. "Probably nothing," Job said, doing his damnedest to keep his eyes on the road, on the silver truck, and look for the car he was chasing.
Kyle noticed it first. "They got guns, Job," he said as he gripped the dashboard roll handle. "Turn around man, I don’t feel good about this," he said in a near state of panic.
"I can't, by the time I slow down to a safe enough speed we'll be sitting ducks."
"Job, I don't want to die a virgin."
Job couldn’t help it. With everything that was going on, he had to a spare a second to look at his friend. "No way, what the hell are you talking about? You went out with Vickie Johannsen for almost a year."
"She was saving herself for marriage."
Job knew that was a lie. He had bedded Vickie on more than one occasion and most were while his friend was dating her. Kyle may have made a startling revelation, but Job felt no such compulsion.
"We'll get through this…" the live Job started to tell his friend. "…buddy," was what his incorporeal soul finished. Job exited the world of the living and into the plane of the dead so fast that he did not even realize there was a transition.