Doomsday Sheriff: Day 2: A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Adventure by Michael James Ploof

Author:Michael James Ploof [Ploof, Michael James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Traveling Bard Publishing
Published: 2018-07-15T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

A Rave New World

Max, Valentine, and John were taken to the local Kinney’s, which was guarded like the redneck version of Fort Knox. Guards stood at the doors in pairs, as well as on the roof and each corner of the building. The parking lot was full of RVs, and Max had a sneaking suspicion that few of the militia had ever owned the rigs. Generators hummed steadily, and floodlights lit the entire property. A large fence had even been constructed, complete with a razor wire top and all.

Inside, the isles remained the same, though it looked like every one of the lottery tickets had been scratched. They were led to the storeroom, where chairs were being placed beneath a swinging light. Max was shoved into the center seat, and Pike pulled another one forward, sitting in his own chair backward and straddling the backrest.

“What do you know, Sheriff?”

“What do I know?”

“Of the wider world. How’re the people holding up in the hills?”

“We were doing fine until the military came and took most of us,” said Max.

“Why not you all?”

“We were trying to lock down a hospital.”

“What happened?”

“We ended up having to burn it down. Alien worm nest and all that.”

“It’s a real mind-fucker, eh?” said Pike.

One of the four guards nodded with exasperation.

“A zombie apocalypse,” Pike continued, shaking his head. “Who would’a thunk it?”

“My deputy, Stefan,” said Max.

“That you?” Pike asked John.

“No, I’m just a dude who likes hockey.”

Pike glanced at Valentine.

“She’s my daughter,” said Max.

Pike nodded respectfully. “Then I’m doubly happy to have avenged her honor with Simon. Stupid ass, he was. Probably my least favorite cousin.”

“He was your cousin?” said Max, somewhat surprised.

Pike nodded. “We planned a family reunion for the day of the meteor shower, and low and behold, we all survived. There’s goddamned forty of us. Must have been the grace of God.”

“God had nothing to do with it. You were all shitfaced, that’s all,” said Max.

“What’s that?”

“We’ve learned that everyone who was drunk on Saturday survived. Seems the space worms don’t like the fire water. Go figure.”

“No shit…” said Pike, nodding to himself and slapping his pack of Marlboros against his palm. “That makes sense.”

“What are we doing here, Pike?,” said Max. “I got places to be, and I’ve got nothing to offer you. If you’re worried that I’ll report your little empire here to the army, you can rest assured I don’t give a shit.”

“And that is the conundrum,” said Pike. “I gotta trust you, but if there’s anything my drunken dick of a father taught me—”

“It’s that you can’t trust anyone,” said Max. “Heard it before. Not interested. How about a trade?”

“I’m listening,” said Pike.

“Well, I’m assuming, and this is a shot in the dark here, but I’m guessing that you’ve got some among you who weren’t drunk, and you’ve kept them locked up, hoping to find a way to turn them back. But you can’t, and they scream, and they scream, luring other screamers and howlers…sorry, trip-heads, to them.”

“Go on,” said Pike, shifting forward in his seat and discarding his cigarette like a burden.

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