Free Wormwood Dawn (Episode I) by Edward Crae Page B

partners in death.
    “That was fucked up, man,” Drew said, finally recovering from his puking spree. “Jesus. What a fucking… ugh… what a… something. Fuck.”
    Dan was still speechless. All he could picture was Linda’s head exploding and her brains flying against the wall like fireworks. It would be something he would never forget, no matter how hard he tried.
    After a few minutes of silence, he caught his breath, turning to look at Drew. He was sitting on the top step with his head in his hands, breathing slowly and deeply.
    “Well, you heard the lady,” Dan said. “We can take anything we need.”
    “No shit,” Drew said through his hands. “I need to take a Valium… or, maybe a shit.”
    Dan went straight to the cupboards; wordlessly shoving cans into his open backpack. Drew joined him, going for the drawers and the tall pantry. In a few minutes, they were loaded up with all the canned and dry food they could carry. Dan draped his backpack over his shoulder and looked around. There were probably other things they could take. Gary had a shit ton of guns, but their backpacks were already full.
    “Let’s go throw these in the truck and search around some more,” Dan said.
    Drew nodded wordlessly, and the two went outside. They tossed their packs in the seat and headed back in; this time avoiding the living room. Dan knew that Gary kept his guns in his den—with the exception of the shorty shotgun Linda had just used to blow her brains out. Fortunately for them, the den was unlocked and Gary’s gun cabinet was open.
    “Jesus Christ,” Dan exclaimed as he opened the huge steel door.
    Drew went wide-eyed as he stared at the rack of rifles. “Now that’s a stash,” he said.
    There were rifles of all sorts; bolt action long rifles of various calibers, AR-15s, an assortment of handguns, and even a big Barrett M85 with an infrared scope. Dan pulled out the Barrett, holding it up like Gollum held the One Ring.
    “ Myyyyy prrrrrrrecioussssss!” he hissed.
    “Dude,” Drew laughed. “You’re such a fucking geek. Gimme that Glock.”
    Dan tossed him the Glock, and Drew sniffed it. “Smells like wrong house, mother fucker.”
    “Where the fuck did Gary get this?” Dan asked, amazed. He wasn’t sure if even Indiana allowed this kind of rifle. It wasn’t set up for hunting; it was a full-fledged military style, pistol-gripped piece of badassery.
    “He probably has a federal permit,” Drew said. “Looking at this house, it wouldn’t surprise me. But I’m not sure it would be required. My dad has an M16A2.”
    “5.56?”
    Drew grinned, nodding.
    “Alright, let’s stock up and get the fuck outta here,” Dan said. “We’ll check the workshop, and maybe come back in the morning to look through the stables.”
    “I bet there’s some horse shit in there,” Drew joked, stacking ammo boxes in his arms. “And maybe some horses.”
    Dan shook his head, laughing. “We don’t need horses.”

Chapter Eight
     
    They needed horses.
    It had rained heavily all night, and the entire road was flooded. The two points where the creek and the gravel road merged were overflowed and rushing quickly. Even in the pickup, there was no getting through. The backyard was even worse. The branch of the creek that ran through Dan’s property was flooded halfway up the slope to the deck. It looked like a river.
    It might as well be the freaking Nile.
    “Well,” Drew said. “We could canoe around.”
    Dan shrugged. “I guess we can wade over to Gary’s and grab the horses,” he replied. “We should check and make sure they’re alright anyway.”
    “Wade in this shit? Are you fucking nuts?”
    Dan nodded, grinning. “Yep. Let’s booze it up and go for a swim.”
     
    Boozing it up probably wasn’t a good idea, Dan realized. They were waist deep in the cold, rushing water, and had to hold their shotguns over their heads to keep them dry. They both knew it was unnecessary, but it was instinct.
    “I can’t