Dext of the Dead (Book 4): We Are The Extinction Read online

  Chavez scoffed and let out a snarky, “Phst… You’re gonna make her shoot opposite? No way in hell that’s gonna work.”

  Boyd winked and said, “Military ch-chick like her? She already kn-knows how to shoot from b-both sides, b-but she ain’t got no c-c-confidence. G-gotta f-fix that. N-now, can you please sh-shut the f-fuck up?”

  Kylee exhaled heavily and fired a single round as Boyd used his own scope to spot for her. She missed and let us know, too, snapping, “Shit!”

  As the truck inched forward, Boyd told her, “Low r-right.”

  Kylee ejected her first shell casing and set up for another.

  Boom!

  Boyd called out, “B-better. Still low.”

  Another round ejected had Chavez bitching, “Waste of fuckin’ ammo, if you ask me…”

  I caught a chuckle when Boyd responded, “G-good thing n-no one asked you.”

  Boom!

  Kylee’s third round hit dead center in the face of the bernie leading the pack, sending shards of skull into the air and dropping it like someone flipped its off switch.

  Lilly exclaimed, “Nice shootin’, Kylee! There ya go!”

  Boyd nodded his satisfaction and told her, “Try a few more before we take our turns.” Then he called to Cutty, “G-good job up there, C-C-C-C-C-Cutty. Keep g-goin’!”

  We led them for miles, laughing and playing, taking potshots at them. We tested our aim by trying to shoot limbs off of them and eventually began letting them get closer and closer, just so we could try out more fancy shots. Chavez even got in on the action and took out two with one round. He puffed out his chest and challenged us, saying, “Hah! That was awesome!”

  The group had dwindled down to around six or seven when Cutty slammed the breaks. The sudden stop sent Don and Chalmers tumbling towards the front of the trailer since they were on their feet, but the rest of us simply slid backwards on our bellies a foot or two. That was when we saw one of the craziest sights we’d seen yet.

  A black Cadillac sped past us going in the opposite direction heading straight for the pack of bernies. This wasn’t your ordinary Cadillac, though—sleek, black, and shiny… chromed out… blacked-out window tint… and some guy was sitting on the Goddamn hood! The dude was dressed in black pants and wore a grey tank-top tee shirt covered with a sleeveless, leather vest. His hair was average length, and he was sporting some tattoos and piercings. He sorta looked like half biker, half gangster. He held a long blade in one hand that kinda looked like a machete, but more stylish.

  He cheered as they sped past, hollering, “Yeeeeeah! Now! Now, now, now!”

  The driver of the car slammed the breaks, sending this guy sliding off the hood and literally flying through the air at the pack of bernies. In mid-fall, he took a strong swipe at one of the ones on the outer edge of the group, slicing its head clean off at the shoulders, before landing in the sand on the side of the road. He slid a few feet and tumbled into a roll before popping to his feet and posing like a boss. “Told you I could do it, Nick! You owe me forty chips, bitch.”

  The bernies moved towards this crazy bastard slightly as his partner exited the vehicle, smiling proudly. “Not bad, faggot. Now gimme my kukri back.”

  The second man, Nick I assume, was dressed impeccably. He was in black as well, except his clothing was money—full suit and vest, but no jacket. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up over his forearms, and he carried a small sidearm in a holster strapped to his thigh. Again he demanded, “Gimme back my shit, assbreath. I’d rather not get eaten today. I got a hot date tonight.”

  The dead moved ever closer as these two guys bickered at one another. The first one tossed the blade at Nick, and it landed at his feet, stuck in the sand neatly. Nick bent down and picked it up before flourishing it comfortably. He said, “C’mon, man, be easy with it. Took me three days at the blackjack tables to work up the chips to buy this thing, and that prick Gino only had the one.”

  “Ma bad, dude,” the first one said sincerely.

  Nick drew his pistol and kicked the closest deadhead into the others, sending them clumsily sprawling to the asphalt. “Ten to one I can get four done before I have to take a shot. How ya like those odds, Seth-my-boy?”

  Seth gestured in a mockingly polite manner and said, “I’ll take that all day long.”

  Nick stepped into the fray as the dead got to their feet once more, swinging the blade easily through the meat of a bernie’s leg. It was crippled immediately. Smoothly, he continued the same motion, much like Cutty would, into the head of another with a solid thwack. “That’s two,” he shouted.

  The remaining three closed in, but Seth didn’t make a move. He watched his partner coolly from the sidelines as Nick kicked another back a few feet before pistol whipping it bluntly. Seth whistled and buffed his nails on his tee shirt, somewhat bored.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  The final three dropped where they stood, freezing everyone in place as Lilly tucked her pistol in her pants. Chavez and Boyd stood there, stunned, and Boyd stammered, “F-f-fuck m-me. Did you know she c-c-could do that?”

  He was ignored.

  Seth dramatically began a slow clap, which Nick joined in on as they looked in our direction for the first time. “And the jerky kill of the week goes to the li’l, badass, bald bitch in the truck!”

  Nick spat on the ground and snapped at Seth, “That was bullshit. If you think I’m paying you for that, you’re retarded.”

  Seth chuckled and told him, “I most certainly am not retarded, and you owe me another thirty chips.”

  Nick scoffed and retorted, “Umm… correction, buttlicker… it’s twenty chips, and I ain’t payin’ it—clearly interference.”

  Completely oblivious to the snapping head laying on the ground and the crippled crawler, these two nutjobs started play fighting and eventually had each other wrestled to the ground.

  Cutty appeared from around the side of the trailer and sunk his machete into the crawler, then finished off the severed head before stalking over to Seth and Nick. He pulled them both apart and yoked them to their feet by their collars before backing off a step.

  Seth and Nick chuckled at one another as they dusted off their clothes, capping off one of the most ridiculous scenes I’d ever witnessed.

  Formal introductions ensued, and it turned out these two guys lived in Vegas. They were definitely sketchy about why they were out there, but they seemed friendly enough. We told Seth that we wanted to head into Vegas, and he was for the most part agreeable. He did, however, inform us that one does not simply drive into Vegas these days and expect to just settle in. Nick went a step further and explained that just to get into the gates, we would be required to pay tribute.

  Chalmers asked him outright, “Pay? Pay with what?”

  Seth smirked and answered him, saying, “It varies from person to person. Nick and I have some business to attend to, but this was fun and all. Tell ya what… stay here while we handle this thing, and when we come back we’ll figure out a way to get you in. That little kid you got is badass. Not too sure why your women look like Nazis, but whatever, dude… That’s your business. You guys are perfect. We could use your big guy’s muscle, and it looks like you all can shoot. Gino and Fat Tony are gonna be stoked.”

  Chavez asked skeptically, “How do we know you’ll be back?”

  With a charming smile, Nick told him, “I give you my word. We’ll be back. Besides, we gotta pass back through this way to get home. A simple look at a map will tell you that.”

  Let’s be honest here. We weren’t really in a position to negotiate yet, so we nodded and told them we’d hang here until dusk. Seth added, “We won’t be more than an hour.”

  So, that’s it. We moved the dead off the road and watched the Cadillac speed off into the desert in the opposite direction. If they aren’t back by dusk, we’ll move on. In the meantime, we’ll just sit here and listen to Boyd and Chavez bitch at each other about nothing.

  How about Lilly,
though? That shit was crazy.

  Entry 136

  Seth was full of shit with his ‘less than an hour’ estimation, and the two appeared as a small dot on the horizon nearly three hours later. He offered a weak apology.

  Nick attempted to explain, saying, “We ran into a bit of a hitch, but nothing we couldn’t handle.”

  Kylee nudged me and covertly gestured with her eyes towards the Caddy. I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t remember seeing the massive dent in the rear quarter panel, nor could I remember there being bloody handprints all over the trunk. They were there now, though, and Kylee was all over it.

  She asked them casually, “What’s up with the car? You guys run into more bernies?”

  Nick pondered the question briefly before asking her, “Bernies? That what you call ’em?”

  Seth chuckled. He clearly got the joke. Nick shrugged it off and told us, “We call ’em jerks… or jerkies.”

  Chavez stretched languidly and spouted, “Yeah, that’s cute and all, but can we cut the shit, please? I’m sweatin’ like a whore in church over here…”

  Seth told us all, “Wow… he’s a charmer. Where’d you get this guy?”

  In his usual manner, Chavez interrupted with, “How ’bout I charm this foot in your ass?”

  Here’s where I realized Seth was a little off—not crazy or anything, just slightly out there. He told Chavez, “If you wanna put anything in my ass, you better buy me dinner first and give me the courtesy of a reach around. And the line starts behind Nick because he’s queer like that.”

  Nick and Seth chuckled at themselves before Nick quipped, “C’mon Seth, I thought I was your one and only.”

  They were just fuckin’ with Chavez, and he couldn’t stand it. He was getting all sorts of pissed off. He laid his gun down and squared up to Seth like he was gonna fight him. He told them both, “Enough talk, smartass. You wanna go?”

  Frankly, we would’ve stepped in and ended the banter if it was anybody but Chavez. In fact, we all looked at one another like, ‘You gonna say something, or what?’ but no one moved. I think we all wanted to see a good fistfight.

  Seth drew his pistol slowly and passed it back to Nick, saying, “Hold my shit real quick, Nick. I’m about to knock this bitch out. I’ll give you three-to-one odds he gets in one good punch.” He was smiling the whole time. I swear the dude was in a constant state of ‘fuck it.’

  Nick refused to take the pistol and told Seth, “Nah, man. I mean, three to one is good shit and all, but I’m already in the hole today. Let’s just chill out. We got business to discuss.”

  Chalmers quickly picked up Nick’s reasoning and told Chavez, “Yeah, that’s a good call. No need to be pissing on the welcome mat. Let’s just have a few words.”

  Shrugging the whole thing off, Seth holstered his piece and told Chavez, “Your call, man. I’m down for whatever. You got some balls, though. I’ll say that much.”

  Lilly chimed in, saying, “Unless there’s shootin’ goin’ on. He freezes up like a pussy when there’s shootin’.”

  You shoulda seen his jaw drop. I’m pretty sure I snorted when she said it, and the others winced a bit. Seth and Nick broke out laughing, with Nick saying, “Is that so?”

  Still snickering, Seth asked Lilly, “Where’d you learn to talk like that, kid… and where’d you learn to shoot like that, too?” He gestured to Kylee and told her, “Your daughter’s a rare breed, lady.”

  Lilly snapped, “She’s not my mother. My parents are dead.”

  Kylee looked like she’d been punched in the stomach. I’m not sure if it was because Lilly made it a point to deny her as her mother or if it was because she was reminded of the baby. Either way, I felt kinda bad for her.

  Seth said, “Shit, man. Sorry. Look… your name is Lilly, right? I didn’t mean anything by it, Lilly. My parents are dead, too. I just thought since you two had the same haircut and since she’s old enough to… Know what? Never mind. Let’s talk about something else.”

  Cutty agreed, saying, “Yeah, dat’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout. Le’s discuss Vegas.”

  Seth nodded and got down to business. “Medicine. You all got any medicine? Or booze? Both of those go for big chips. If you had enough of either one of those, we could make something happen.”

  Boyd hadn’t been around long enough to know anything about our inventory, so he remained quiet. As usual, he was idly staring off into the distance through his scope. Kylee, on the other hand, told them flatly, “No. We can’t spare any medicine, and getting shitfaced out here will get you killed, so no booze either.”

  Seth and Nick frowned.

  Lilly corrected her with, “I know about some medicine we don’t use.”

  This raised eyebrows throughout the group. Don told the Vegas boys, “Can you excuse us a minute?”

  Seth opened his arms with palms up as if to say, ‘Suit yourself.’

  We all hopped up into the trailer, with Cutty inquiring of Lilly, “Whatchu talkin’ ’bout, Lil?”

  She rummaged through our pile of bags and drug out Hook’s pack. She said, “We never use Hook’s medicine. He was the only one.”

  I felt a devilish grin flash across my own face. Cutty said to no one in particular, “I’ll be damned…”

  When she opened it, Don’s eyes bugged out. Boyd didn’t seem to care, though. Don said, “Drugs? You got drugs!”

  Lilly looked at him, puzzled, and said, “Yeah. This was Hook’s medicine. It’s really stinky, but he always looked real happy after he took it. I guess it works, huh?”

  Don said, “Hold up. Are we really suggesting a drug deal to get us in? You sure this is a good idea?”

  Everyone shrugged. I wasn’t pressed one bit. Whatever works, right?

  Kylee took the bag and said, “Fine. Let’s give it a try.”

  Don immediately put a hand on her shoulder and protested with, “No. Not you. I’m not risking you if this thing goes badly. Drug deals have a tendency to turn into a mess. I think Cutty should do it.”

  Cutty crossed his arms, but didn’t say anything as Kylee snapped, “First of all… I can handle it. I don’t need you protecting me all the time, Don.”

  He balked at the accusation and reminded her, “If I hadn’t bugged you to wear a vest, you’d have been dead back there with Hook. You might be capable, but you’re careless sometimes… and hot headed.”

  Kylee became infuriated. “You’re not my father! I did fine when I thought you were dead. And why Cutty, anyway? Why do you think Cutty should do this thing?”

  Don tried to formulate the sentence, then lowered his voice, saying, “I don’t know. It’s a drug deal, and he’s… you know… black.”

  Kylee looked utterly disgusted with him. I think we were all surprised to actually hear him say some shit like that. Cutty was cool, though. He told Don calmly, “I’m gon’ strongly suggest you rephrase.”

  Boyd shifted his eyes from one side to the other before snatching up the bag from Kylee and stalking to the rear of the trailer. He tossed the bag at Seth’s feet. “Will th-th-this c-cover it?”

  Seth and Nick looked down into the bag, then back to one another. Simultaneously they said, “Holy. Shit.”

  Boyd looked over his shoulder at us and smiled, giving the thumbs-up as Seth and Nick both picked out some of the weed and started sniffing at it. Nick was like, “Um… yeah… yes… This’ll do nicely.”

  As Nick tossed the bag into the now banged-up Caddy, Seth told us, “Follow us. We’ll be stopped at the checkpoint, and I’ll wave you through. Chavez, I think it’d be best if you don’t talk, at all—like, ever. Let us take the lead again once we’re past it, and then we’ll show you where to park that behemoth you’re drivin’.”

  We nodded our agreement.

  Nick called out to us, “One more thing. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Remember that.”

  Entry 137

  I think we were all thankful that Chavez kept his mouth shut for the remainder of the ride int
o Vegas proper. The checkpoint was daunting on its own, and no one needed the stress of trying to smooth over anything he might’ve screwed up with his mouth.

  Don was also uncharacteristically quiet. I don’t doubt he was seething over his argument with Kylee and that bullshit assumption he made about Cutty. No one said anything about it, and it was probably better that way.

  On the approach I noticed something that scared the shit outta me, but I didn’t mention it to anyone. There were footprints in the sand and not just a few. There were thousands! It looked as if a gigantic horde had passed through not too long ago. I didn’t care if everything looked under control or not. That many of the dead would pose a huge problem no matter where they were roaming, but for the moment I kept it to myself.

  There were bonfires on either side of the checkpoint, and the stop was manned by nearly forty men and women. The fires were stacked nearly eight feet high with corpses, and the smoke billowed in huge, thick clouds high into the sky above. It wasn’t hard to imagine that the bernies were keeping them busy. Food, namely us, must have been so hard to come by out there that the dead traveled in enormous herds. But the checkpoint was well armed, and the people hustling around looked capable enough.

  We stopped as instructed and watched as Seth had words with one of the men running the show. He was also greeted warmly by a few others, with fistbumps from the men and smiling hugs from the women. Looked like Seth and Nick carried some weight around there. Good thing we hooked up with them.

  We caught some sideways glances on the way through, but it was painless. They didn’t even speak to us, much less search through our stuff or anything. Within twenty minutes of the checkpoint, we finally saw it.

  Vegas lay in front of us, surrounded by enormous walls constructed of any materials that were available—anything from metal plates, wood, and vehicles, all the way to piles of dirt and stone. All were topped with rows of razor wire or sharpened pikes made from old fencing. Atop many of the pikes were severed heads, seemingly to act as a warning to the unauthorized. Trouble was that there’s no way to tell if those heads belonged to the dead or the recently living. Regardless, it didn’t feel very welcoming.