Free The Age of Zombies: Sergeant Jones by B. Rockow Page B

came up empty. The Mexican farmhand never said a word about what went down that morning.
    But he had pictures.
    And a pictures is worth a thousand words.

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    Chapter Five
    Have a Bourbon Down at The Small Tavern
    Jones mustered a grunt and nod.
    Penny poured a shot of bourbon and cracked a cold PBR. She slid the drinks across the bar counter. Her fire red hair looked great, and her sharp green eyes sparkled. “Ain’t nothing a shot and a chaser can’t handle.”
    “That’s the truth,” Jones said. One calloused hand picked up the bourbon, the other wrapped around the cold beer. He threw back the shot and guzzled the beer. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d have to actually get my ass to a shrink.”
    Penny bent over the bar counter ever so slightly. She put on her devilish grin, the one that never failed to get a smile out of any guy. Her long, fiery red hair framed her breasts perfectly. “I charge a fair rate, I think.” Penny bent over just a little more. She sucked air into her lungs, causing her breasts to swell. They pressed tight together and bulged out. Cheap tricks, perhaps. But she could always count on them.
    They weren’t working on Jones. He normally loved Penny’s robust curves. He loved Vanessa, so although he always looked, he never touched. Vanessa admired Penny’s breasts just as much as he did, so she never made him feel guilty about it. But tonight they could’ve been bags of dirt for all he cared. Even after the events of the previous afternoon, he didn’t have the desire to pick up on Penny. He imagined inviting her to a motel tonight, and giving her the ride of her life. But he couldn’t. He just didn’t have it in him.
    He took another swig of his beer. “Ever have crazy fucking dreams?” he asked. “Like, next level nightmare shit?”
    Penny’s green eyes lit up. “This one time, three Marines showed up in my dream. They were ripped, ready, and naked.”
    Jones held up his hand and gestured for silence. “That sounds like a hellish nightmare,” he said. “Marines, I feel bad for you. But I’m sure you loved it, babe. No, I mean, I’m talking about a real nightmare. One that you couldn’t shake.”
    Penny straightened her posture and tended to some dirty beer glasses. “You know, can’t say that I have. It’s funny, Jones. In the eight years you’ve been coming into this bar, I’ve never known you to talk about your dreams.” She lifted a glass and gave it a huff and wiped it with a white rag. “Let alone your nightmares. Something must be bothering you. How about you dish it out.”
    “Another shot,” Jones said. Penny poured a double, and placed it in front of the Sergeant. Jones threw it back and slammed the shot glass on the counter. “Damn that’s good bourbon. Alright, so like I said, this dream was absolutely horrible. I mean, I haven’t been able to sleep since then.” Jones gulped his PBR. “I don’t even know where to begin, Penny. It’s such a big fucking mess.”
    “Let’s start from the top,” Penny said. “Just tell me the first thing you saw.”
    “I’m staring straight into the eyes of…” He cut himself short. He winced as he remembered the scene in his bedroom that afternoon.
    Penny was listening and kept on cleaning the beer glass in her hands. “At what?” she said. “I didn’t catch that last part.”
    Jones slid his shot glass back to Penny. She knew to fill it again. Penny wanted Jones drunk enough to tell the story of his nightmare completely unfettered. She poured the bourbon, and slid it back over to Jones. He moves his thumb around its rim. “So I’m in this room. It’s a familiar room, so at first I’m not fazed or anything. In fact, it looks like my bedroom. I smell something strange, but there’s nothing in the room that I can see, other than the bed, the dresser, the nightstand.”
    Penny was skeptical. The nightmare sounded like a cover for something Jones really saw. But she’d play along for now. “Alright,