Free Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time by Richard Johnson Page B

just
complaining about not having any direction in your life?” Charlie nodded, and
Smokey continued. “And, Trent, what would have happened if we spent all that
money partying?”
    “I suppose we’d be dead. Not that it matters now. At least
we wouldn’t be dealing with this shit.”
    “It comes down to being prepared. A prudent person foresees
danger and takes precautions. The simpleton goes blindly on and suffers the
consequences. Proverbs 27:12.”
    “I didn’t realize you were a bible thumper,” Trent said.
    “I’m not,” Smokey said. “I got that from Armageddon Week on
the History Channel. You’d be surprised to know how much television I watch.”
    Charlie scoffed. “Not really.”
    A sudden hail of gunfire somewhere in the neighborhood
interrupted the conversation. “Sounds like M-16 bursts,” Trent said. “Must be
the National Guard.” The shots ended as quickly as they began.
    Moments later, Russ got a call through. “Everybody shut up
for a second.”
    The plague had gone biblical in proportion and there were
simply fewer people around to make calls, freeing the lines. None of that
mattered to the bleeding and anxious man cradling the phone.
    “Carol, it’s Russ.”
    There was a pause on the other end of the line before a
gravelly voice answered, “I told you to stop calling.” His ex sounded as rough
as Mike Ditka’s mustache, the result of twenty years of unfiltered Camels.
    “Hear me out,” Russ said. “I’m gonna keep this short and
sweet, just like you. I know I did a lot of shitty things over the years—”
    “If you need me to bail you out again, you can forget it.”
This bridge was torched long ago, if not napalmed.
    “It’s not that. I gotta get this off my chest now or I might
not get another chance. I’m sorry about that thing with the landlord’s wife,
calling the nine-hundred numbers, and your Momma’s jewelry. I love you and… and
I wanna see you in heaven. I’ll keep a spot for you, or vice versa. Kiss the
kids for me.” Russ paused for a second, confused. Then he flew into a rage.
“That bitch hung up on me. Un-fucking-believable. I take it all back!”
    He shattered his phone on the wall and then sank to the
ground while sobbing uncontrollably.
    Mike approached him after realizing no one else cared. “It’s
okay, man, you made your peace with her. That’s what’s important.”
    Russ paused his blubbering. “What in the fuck are you brats
looking at? Shouldn’t you make some calls?”
    The guys listened and feverishly dialed their own loved ones
to give warnings and say final goodbyes. Charlie eventually reached his
parents.
    “Stop worrying,” his dad said. “You know we’re in the
boondocks. Plus, the neighbors have set up a watch for suspicious activity and
the Johnsons from down the way have their four wheelers and shotguns out. You’d
think it was the Fourth of July the way they’re carrying on.”
    “Dad, you gotta be careful. This isn’t a joke.”
    “We’ll ride it out till this whole thing blows over.”
    “It’s not gonna blow over, this is for real. We’ve seen
things. We’ve done things…”
    His father sighed. “If so, we’re in a good place. I’ve got a
cupboard of dried goods and energy bars and your mom’s been canning fruits and
veggies for years. We’ve got a creek for water, and we can always harvest the
wildlife. Maybe you should try and get down here? We’re not really that far
away.”
    “That’s not possible. Jim tried to drive two miles, and I
doubt he made it. We might be stuck here for—”
    Like Russ’s call, the connection dropped.
    “Check it out, here come some soldiers,” Smokey said, and
everyone hurried to the window.
    Talk about a letdown.
    “They don’t have guns,” Rob noted and the realization came
like a kick to the groin. The soldiers looked to have been through a
meat-grinder and were now searching for victims of their own. There would be no
rescue.
    Russ stopped his sniveling and