The Doomsday Sheriff: The Novella Collection (Includes Books 1 - 3) Page 14

  He heard the banjo from Deliverance in his head and clenched his ass cheeks.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll figure out something,” he assured Valentine.

  “Sheriff?” said Marlboro Man.

  “I didn’t catch your name, sir,” said Max through the PA.

  “Name’s Pike.”

  “Well, Pike, I’ve got no beef with you or your men. You can have the entire damned town for all I care. But I’ve got business with the men who belong to these tracks, and I don’t have time to chat. So, if you’ll kindly unblock the way, I’ll be gone.”

  Marlboro Man blew smoke out his nose, squinting against Max’s headlights. “That ain’t how things work ‘round here, Sheriff. We here own this road now, and there’s a toll to be paid.”

  “Do you take Mastercard?” said Max, and Valentine slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Really? You’re going to be a smartass?”

  “Fuck this guy,” Max began, but then John came over the radio.

  “Got four men coming up on my six from the fields. Two on each side…”

  “What are we going to do?” said Valentine.

  Max glanced in the rearview, barely making out the men approaching in the moonlight. He guessed that the trucks a half mile back had at least eight men in them, and he didn’t put it past the Marlboro Man to cut them down if they tried to break through the blockade.

  They were up shit creek with a tennis racket for a paddle.

  “We’ll work out payment later,” said Marlboro Man, flicking his cigarette into the snowbank. “Right now, I need to make sure you’re not a danger to the rest of us.”

  “Sheriff…” said John over the radio. Other voices came through as well, those of men with guns and demands. In the rearview, Max saw John putting up his hands.

  “Time’s up, Sheriff,” said Marlboro Man.

  “Listen, Valentine, you’re my daughter for the next few hours, got it?”

  A man appeared in her window, and Max saw one in his as well. She nodded, raising her arms.

  “Tell your men to back off, and I’ll get out,” said Max through the PA.

  Pike waved his arm like a fly-by-night magician, and the men on each side of the doors backed up. Max opened the door and got out with empty hands held high. The dude by his door aimed the gun at his face, and Max took a steady breath, not liking how the skinny young man’s body twitched.

  “Don’t ever put your finger on the trigger, unless you plan on pulling it,” said Max.

  “Move!” said the kid, motioning with the rifle.

  Max knew that one on one, he would have had the punk right there, but he was hopelessly outnumbered, and so he played his best card—he kept cool.

  “Come forward, Sheriff, keep those hands up,” said Pike, lighting another cigarette.

  Pike seemed like a two-packs-a-day kind of guy. Max knew the type; they beat the shit out of their bodies with booze, tobacco, coke, and pills, and they drank Mountain Dew like it was going out of style, but they never gained any weight and ended up living well into their eighties. Meanwhile, the guy biking through the Adirondacks every weekend and running marathons died of prostate cancer at fifty.

  Nobody could say that God didn’t have a sense of humor.

  Max walked forward and stopped five feet away from Pike. He knew that at this distance, he could pull his sidearm and put a hole in the man’s head before the punk behind him could squeeze out a surprised fart, but that would only get Max killed.

  “You’re thinking you could kill me right now,” said Pike, unafraid and loving it. He was glowing. For men like Pike, the end of the world was the beginning of the new world, one where they made the rules and broke all the others.

  “And you probably could,” Pike admitted. “But you won’t. You’re a lawman, and you got no gripe with me, just like I got no gripe with you. Ya hear? Now be a good guest and let Simon there frisk you down.”

  Max submitted to the pat-down and allowed Simon to take his sidearm. John and Valentine were brought beside him and relieved of their weapons. Only Valentine complained.

  “You already checked there,” she told Simon.

  Max glanced over and saw Simon handing the weapons to another man, then gleefully going back for another grab of Valentine’s crotch. She whirled around and slammed a palm into his nose that jerked his head back and sent him staggering and falling on his ass. Valentine immediately turned back around and put her hands up.

  Rifles cocked in a chorus of metal, but Pike raised his hand and no bullets came.

  “Simon? Get your sorry ass up off the road!”

  “You fucking bitch!” Simon protested, leaping to his feet and moving toward Valentine’s back.

  “Simon!” Pike warned.

  That stopped him dead.

  “Get your ass over here,” said Pike.

  Max watched him go. Valentine sneered.

  Pike took a drag from his cigarette, clenched it in his teeth, and pointed a pistol at Simon as he approached.

  “What did I tell you last time?” Pike asked.

  Simon stopped and put up his hands. “Come on… I was just having a little fun.”

  “What did I tell you?” Pike pressed.

  “You said…” Simon looked like he was going to cry. “You said that next time you would put a hole in my—”

  Pike fired, and bits of brain and gore splattered on Max’s boots. The body fell to the snow, the bullet wound steaming, and Pike twirled his gun before holstering it.

  “This here’s a brave new world,” Pike bellowed through his megaphone. “In the old world, men who blatantly assaulted women were given a slap on the wrist, or else never reported, but in this new world, men who commit such crimes are put to death.”

  Valentine glanced at Max, visibly shaking.

  Pike turned to the men around the trucks. “All y’all motherfuckers hear that? There ain’t no place for that kind of behavior!”

  “We hear ya, Pa!” said one of the young bucktooth men in the back of his truck.

  “In this brave new world,” said Max, “what’s the penalty for murder?”

  “An eye for an eye,” said Pike. “But you can’t blame the executioner for the deed once sentence is cast. If you’re insinuatin’ that this here was a murder, I assure you that you are wrong. This hear was a public execution, as deemed by law.”

  “Whose law?” said Max.

  Pike grinned, showing off his seven good teeth. He walked closer to Max, pistol hanging easily at his side. Pike stopped and reached out to take Max’s badge, grinning when Max didn’t try to stop him. Rancid breath puffed over the badge and Pike rubbed it against his camo jacket.

  “My law,” he said, pinning the badge to his chest.

  “What do you want, Pike?” said Max.

  “I want what every man wants: peace, warmth, food, drink, a good woman at my side, and healthy kids.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” said John.

  Pike looked him over before looking Valentine up and down and finally returning to Max. “Why you chasin’ down them army boys?”

  “They’ve got my wife.”

  “Kidnapped her?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And you’re going to save her, or join them?”

  “Depends on their attitude,” said Max.

  Pike grinned. “You’re the real deal aren’t you, Sheriff? You got that look in your eye…you’ve killed before.”

  Max stared at him.

  “Yeah, you’ve watched the lights go out,” said Pike, leaning in closer. “You could probably rip my throat out right now with your bare hands, couldn’t you?”

  “I’d need a good reason,” said Max.

  Pike laughed long and hard, and his cronies joined in, but that only made him scowl at the cliché. He laid a dangerous glare over them all and turned his bloodshot gaze on Max. His breath smelled of cigarettes and whiskey, and his clothes stunk of death.

  “The sheriff of Franklin Cou
nty, New York’s got no reason to kill anyone. Doubt you’ve even drawn your gun on the clock. But you’ve seen war, haven’t you, brother?” Pike rolled up his sleeve, showing Max the USMC tattoo on his forearm.

  “What about it?” said Max. “If the old world is dead, so is the institution embroidered in your arm. You hint at brotherhood, but here I am, weaponless and under the barrel.”

  “King Pike,” came a voice over the radio clipped to Pike’s side.

  “What?”

  “This is the warden of the south. Just heard a trip-head out in the woods. I think there’s more than one.”

  “Don’t let them through,” said Pike before putting the radio back on his hip.

  “Trip-heads?” said Max.

  “The three-headed bastards that come from them eggs,” said Pike.

  “We call them howlers,” said John.

  Pike rolled the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue. He grabbed it suddenly and flicked it across the road.

  “Take them!” he said, turning back toward the truck.

  Max offered Valentine and John a rod of reassurance as they were handcuffed and led to the trucks.

  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.

  Max let the tension mount. “I can cure them…”

  “How?”

  “That’s my trade.”

  Pike smirked and nodded knowingly. “And round and round we go. What do you want in return?”

  “Just to get back on the road I was on. And our weapons returned. I help you, you help me, and we never meet again.”

  “That sounds like a hell of a plan,” said Pike. He nodded to one of his cronies. “Bring the sheriff.”

  “John and Valentine come with me,” said Max.

  “They’ll be fine right here,” said Pike. He lit up another cigarette and pointed at the two guards who would watch over John and Valentine. “Anything happens to these two, and you’ll be joining Simon.”

  “I’ll be back soon,” Max told his friends.

  He was put in a truck and driven to the local jailhouse. The place was almost as heavily guarded as Kinney’s, and the rednecks looked to have had fun with the patrol cars, spray-painting them with lewd artwork and writing Pike’s Army on the sides.

  “I hope you ain’t lying about being able to cure my wives,” said Pike as he pushed through the doors and lit yet another cigarette.

  “Your wives?”

  Pike grinned and gestured to the closest cell. A woman in dirty clothes sat in the corner, looking like she was in a trance. When she heard Max’s voice, she turned toward him and let out that godawful howl. In the other cells were five more women, some looking to be no older than fifteen.

  “So how about it, Sheriff. How you gonna cure ‘em?”

  “I need alcohol, preferably liquor.”

  Pike stared at him. “You’re serious, ain’t ya?”

  Max nodded.

  “Will vodka do?” said Pike, reaching in his pocket and withdrawing a flask.

  “That’ll do it. But if I’m going to administer it, then I’m going to need my hands.”

  Pike eyed him with mild suspicion. At length he nodded to one of the guards. The man uncuffed Max, and he rubbed his wrists before taking the flask.

  “Someone’s going to have to hold her down,” said Max.

  “Pete, Roger, Barry, get in there and restrain that zombie bitch,” said Pike.

  They all glanced at each other with shared apprehension, but they didn’t have the balls to argue, not after seeing what had happened to Simon. The three men filed into the cell with nightsticks in hand, and the screamer instantly shot up from the floor and lunged for the man in the middle. He took her around the waste and slammed her to the floor as the other two jumped on her and pinned her arms. Max wasted no time and hurried into the cell, unscrewing the top of the flask and shoving it in her mouth. The screamer coughed and gagged, her voice gurgling as she continued to try to wail. Then suddenly a screeching worm slithered out of her mouth and scurried across the floor. Max stepped on it, mashing it with his heel like it was a cigarette. She stopped thrashing, and her milky eyes rolled back in her head.

  “What the hell was that!” said Pike.

  “Space worm,” said Max nonchalantly.

  He and the guards continued the process with the rest of the woman, and soon they were all twitching and convulsing in their cells. Pike watched with interest as the first of the women started to come to. She looked no more than seventeen, and when her confused eyes found Pike, they widened with fear.

  “How is
it that these women are your wives?” asked Max.

  “It’s the law,” said Pike. “Used to be that I had to hide ‘em away. But now that I’m king, there’s no need to hide ‘em anymore. You hear that, ladies?”

  “And these girls. They want to be your wives?”

  Pike grinned. “You seem real interested in my goings-on. And here I thought you were interested only in getting out of town, saving your piece of ass.”

  “She’s my wife.”

  Pike nodded and spit on the floor. “That’s what I said.”

  “Help! Sheriff help us,” said the oldest of the girls.

  “Shut your pie hole, Nadine!” said Pike. “The sheriff was just leaving.” He nodded at Max. “After you, Sheriff.”

  Max knew that as soon as he turned around, Pike would shoot him in the head. Pike had gotten what he wanted out of Max, and there was no way he was going to let Valentine go—probably already had plans for the wedding.

  “This was just the first step,” said Max. “Your wives are going to need another treatment in a few hours.”

  “We can administer the booze, don’t you worry,” said Pike.

  “It’s not booze they need next.”

  “What is it then? What do they need?”

  It was Max’s turn to grin.

  “I’ll tell you that when me and my friends are back in our trucks and pointed west.”

  “You pulling my leg, Sheriff?”

  “Not at all. If you want to test it, go right ahead. But don’t blame me when your wives turn into something…shit, I can’t even begin to explain what happens to them. Ever seen Alien?”

  “The worms were driven out. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Sure,” said Max. “The worms were, but not their larvae.”

  Pike glanced over at the youngest girl, and she in turn looked to her stomach, horrified.

  “Tick-tock, Pike. What’s it going to be?” said Max.

  “If you’re lying to me, Sheriff…”

  “Let me guess, I’m a dead man.”

  Pike spit on the floor and shook his head. “Nah, dead’s too easy.”

  Chapter 11

  All Hail the King

  Max was brought back to the drugstore, where John and Valentine were let out of their handcuffs and freed. Pike’s men stayed close by as they all filed into the trucks: Valentine and Max in the Bronco, and John in the Hummer.