Zombie Patrol (Walking Plague Trilogy 1)
Page 5“We were damned lucky to get out of there,” Joe said.
“No shit.”
“I mean, if you went through what I did, something big must be going on.”
Mendoza nodded, then looked like he was going to puke. He opened the car door. Put his shades on again and bent over. Retched. His stomach emptied quickly.
Joe tried to think straight. Whatever they’d found the other night was big. It was important, so important that he doubted anyone knew exactly how to respond. He knew very well that he and Mendoza could have been locked up, just to keep them quiet. Joe guessed rightly that the Agent in Black and his Clone had made the least conspicuous choice by letting them go. He also felt they were being followed. Was the car bugged?
Joe held his hand low and signaled for Mendoza to stay quiet. No one watching could have seen this. “Let’s try to eat,” he said, motioning for Mendoza to bring his small duffel bag and cell phone. “Let’s wash up, eat, and find a place to stay.”
* * *
AWOL.
An hour later, Lieutenant Commanders Joseph Carter and Michael Mendoza sped up the 605 Freeway. They’d changed into civilian clothing and hotwired a nearby car. Joe knew these actions were serious offenses, but he wasn’t thinking totally straight. He didn’t think the Agent in Black had caught on, but one could never be too careful.
“So, why are we doing this?” Mendoza asked again.
“I think we’re in trouble, either way. I don’t want to be locked up. We may never get out.”
“That thing from the sky. What the hell was it?”
“I don’t know, but I think it’s making us sick.”
“Sick,” Mendoza echoed.
“Where we going again?” Mike’s voice was weak.
“My brother’s.”
“And why, again? Sorry, hermano, I can’t think straight.”
“We agreed that we don’t want to be locked up. Something is happening.”
“That meteor.”
“Right.”
“We fucked up by touching it.”
“I suppose so.”
“Are we...infected or something?”
Joe paused. “I think so.” Finally, he exited the 5 Freeway. It took all of his concentration to maneuver through traffic. “I don’t think we’re contagious.”
“Why’s that?”
“Our interrogators didn’t wear masks.”
Chapter Five
I’d made my rounds at the observatory. Around this time of year, when night came early, Goths, troublemakers, and a few gang members always frequented the place—part of my job was to work with the police to keep these punks in line.
I was a little disappointed that Carla wasn’t on duty. She was a great cop. Smart, intuitive. Someday, she’d probably wind up as a detective. More than that, she was a little flirt. As I sautéed onions and garlic for my killer spaghetti, I wondered if she flashed that sexy smile for everyone or just for me. I hadn’t dated much since the divorce. Being a single dad came with more responsibilities than I’d ever imagined. But I wouldn’t trade raising Anna for anything.
I frowned a little. Anna was getting older. I knew she was making friends, mostly at the zoo. Some of those friends were boys. I blew a deep breath as I mixed spicy Italian sausage into the pan and checked the pot of water for the pasta. It was inevitable, I knew. Growing up. I thought about the hell I’d put my own parents through. At least I was savvy enough to keep Anna safe and in line. I hoped so.
Anyway, the sauce was simmering when I heard the knock at the door. Anna raced down the stairs of our Los Feliz home and beat me to the door. I leaned against the wall and watched as she threw the front door wide open for my brother and his friend.
Anna pulled him inside and gave him a big hug. Joe was wearing shades and staggered a little as he returned the hug. He looked hung over. That was rare, given the time of day. Evening. Anna sensed it as well, and withdrew.
Another guy held back in the entryway, waiting politely to be invited in. He was also wearing sunglasses. They must have had some party.
Joe smiled wanly. “Anna! You’re taller.”
Anna smiled up at his glasses. “Yep. Come on in, I want to hear everything.”
I crossed the living room and gave my brother a hug. “You look horrible,” I halfway joked. I glanced over his shoulder to his friend. “Oh, Mike, come on in.”
Mike obliged, acting oddly, stiffly. Anna led them both to the couch. She sat next to her uncle and took off his glasses. He winced. Mike courteously removed his own. That was when I knew something was wrong.
My brother and his Navy buddy’s eyes were a dark red. Not just bloodshot. I was thinking pink eye, but that wouldn’t explain the gaunt faces and chapped lips. Anna jabbered about everything: a stream of information for her beloved uncle that he didn’t seem to fully take in. His buddy, Mike, leaned into the couch and tried to look sociable.
I returned to my post in the hall. “You guys want a beer or something?”
“No thanks,” Joe answered quickly.
Since when did my brother turn down a beer? I frowned.
“Anna, could you check the sauce? Make sure it’s not burning. Stir it and turn it off.”
Anna’s energy contrasted their lethargy. “Sure! Want me to set the table? Uncle Joe, Dad made your favorite!” She didn’t wait for an answer. Just bounced into the kitchen.
Joe let down his guard. He leaned back, closed his eyes and drew his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose to soothe an obvious headache.
“You okay?” I asked. A stupid question.
“Man, I don’t feel all that great. Hate to say it, but we’re not hungry.”
Mike indicated his agreement.
“Helluva time to catch a bug, on leave,” I commented.
“Yeah. Listen, I hate to be a downer, but do you think we can just crash? I’m sure we’ll be better in the morning.”
I sighed, and accepted that sometimes things just didn’t turn out as planned, or imagined. I didn’t know at the time what an understatement that was. I’d been looking forward to blowing off some steam, having a few beers, talking football. Brother stuff.