“But what, Edward?”
“It just seems to me that Laramie might be the kind of place that needs any vehicle it can get.”
“Well, every place is like that, isn’t it? But we’ll be willing to give one up maybe, that is if you can give us something in return.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have much. I’ve got some pay cards.”
“We don’t want your plastic pay things, Edward. No one real uses those things. But you do have access to something we need. You see, I’m not just part of the security forces around here. I’m also a business owner. I’m a thriving business owner. Too thriving. What I sell, people buy, but I don’t have as much to sell as I used to. And that’s where you come in, my very good friend. I think I could use someone who works for a place like the C-R-S as a, why don’t we call it a business partner?”
This wasn’t good, but Edward thought it couldn’t hurt too much to play along at the moment. He needed to get that truck, and the sooner the better.
“I’m listening. What kind of business?”
“I’m in the entertainment business, Edward. Did you see that place across the street when you came in?”
“Um, yeah. Bert called it the Arena.” He’d seen it, but he hadn’t been sure what it was supposed to be. From the outside it just looked like a big round building, about two stories high and taking up a whole city block.
“That’s what it is, all right. And in that Arena we keep people happy. They’ll pay the big bucks to go in and watch even when they don’t have the big bucks.”
“Some kind of sports thing?” Edward asked.
“Oh hell yeah, biggest and best sport in the world, Edward. Killing fucking zeds.”
Edward tried not to let any of his horror show on his face. “You know, I think I’ve heard of other places that do that.”
“But no other place is anywhere good as mine. You should see some of the setups I have. I have this giant saw I made, yes? And it spins around and around and drops down onto the zed. Great stuff, you’d think, yeah? Except the way I have it set up, it doesn’t cut all the way through the zed. It slices them all the way from groin to the base of their neck. Never touches the head, so they’re pretty much split in half but they’re still moving! It’s a classic!”
Edward felt the Dumbass Wanderer special trying to come up again, although this time he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop it. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand. What does this have to do with me?” He half expected Billy Horton to scream that he wanted Edward to be the next attraction in his show and jump at him from across the table. Edward was suddenly painfully aware of the grainy photo that most of America had seen. His only hope was that these people didn’t even have television, or at least were too busy watching their formerly living citizens get ripped apart to bother watching the news.
“Well, I’ll tell you something, Edward. There used to be a time when the fucking zeds were ankle deep around here. As I’m sure you saw on your long hike here, that’s not so much anymore. And if I want to continue offering fine quality entertainment, I need more zeds. And that’s something I hear maybe this C-R-S might just have.”
“I’m not so sure they would be so easy for me to get.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be putting your job on the line and all. I can get why you might be hesitant. But I pay top dollar. Usually I use real money, but I just know I could get some of that plastic monies you have.”
Edward wanted to reach across the table and punch this guy in the face, but this sounded like the kind of deal he could fake easily. He just needed to play along a bit longer. “And all I would need to do is bring you… zeds? Sounds like it would definitely be worth a risk or two, if you really have the kind of money you say you do.”
“Oh, I sure do, Edward, I sure do. I have to, in order to keep all those guys I got out there patrolling the wastelands.”
“They… patrol?”
“All over. As far out as I can send them. What do you say, Edward? I give you a vehicle and maybe you get me a pipeline of zeds?”
“Sure,” he said. “Absolutely.” Anything to get that truck. Anything to get the hell out of this hellhole before it was too late.
Chapter Thirty Three
Edward had feared for a minute as Billy Horton gave him the keys to a rusty old Ford pickup that it would be like the van, complete with controls and features he didn’t know how to operate. But it was a good old model, probably ugly-looking under the hood from all the jury-rigged parts, but it ran and that was all that mattered. He must have been slipping. He was starting to actually like the sight of Fords.
He gave Horton all the right assurances that he would be in contact soon and took the keys from the man, all the time trying not to act like he was in a hurry. He didn’t know how many men Horton had out there or even if they searched for their zombies anywhere near the van, but he felt now like he was running against a clock.
He sped down the highway as fast as the truck would take him, which unfortunately wasn’t that fast anymore. He ignored the way the truck shimmied horribly with every bump and pothole in the road and how it felt like it might shake apart if it went anything over forty-five. After what felt like too long he saw the van in the ditch, although instead of making him sigh with relief it made him wince. The dust and dirt hadn’t done much at all to keep it from being visible from the road. If anyone else had been along here recently, they had definitely seen it.
He pulled the truck right up next to the ditch and hopped out, leaving the engine running. The van looked exactly as he had left it, but he wasn’t reassured until he scrambled down into the ditch, opened the back door, and saw Liddie sitting there. The smell inside the van was horrible now, and not because of the pheromones. The zombie bowel issue had apparently finally hit her.
“It’s okay, Liddie,” he said. “When you wake back up I will completely deny that this ever happened. Now come on, we need to get out of here right now.” He held his hands out for her to grab so he could help her out, but she just stared at them. Although he didn’t like doing it, he tried giving her a little nudge with the pheromones. All respect for her aside, they didn’t have time to do this the right way. They could have minutes or they could have hours before any of Horton’s men found them, but he had no way of knowing for sure and didn’t plan on risking it.
He must have fumbled a little with his control of the pheromones, because she froze and looked around frantically. He tried again, and this time she came to him. He helped her out, taking just enough time to give her a strong, heartfelt hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Time to get the hell out of Dodge,” Edward said, then held her hand to lead her out of the ditch. He looked up, trying to find a hand hold that she could use too with the right cajoling from him, and instead saw the barrel of a rifle pointed right at him.
The man holding the gun stood in the back of the truck, and the shocked look on his face would have been priceless if not for the threatening way he held the weapon. “Don’t move, freak,” the man said. “Don’t you dare fucking move.”
He kept the rifle pointed at Edward with one hand as he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket with the other. He pressed a button and held it to his ear. “Billy, your guess paid off, but you are never in a million years going to believe the sick shit I just saw…No, he’s got a zed with him, had it hidden out in some abandoned van, but you need…Yeah, I can do that. But hurry up, though. I don’t want to hang around this perverted bastard any longer than I have to.”