Un2Dead (Book One of the Un2Series)
Chapter Eight

Wit pulled up to La Yarara and parked the El Camino in approximately the same spot as the night before. He and Gary exited the cab and turned to face Joey who was still seated in the truck bed.

“Well, this is where it all started. I parked here, hunted there, woke up in that dumpster over there, and eventually cheesed the windshield here. “

Wit pointed to each location as he described his route.

“Where do you want to start?”

Joey thought for a moment.

“Didn’t you say some guy helped you out of the dumpster? Maybe we should talk to him and see if he remembers anything.”

“He did ask me about a blonde as he pulled me up. Maybe he saw something else. He was eating at the bar when I walked in. I think he works in the kitchen as a cook or something.”

Joey grabbed the side of the truck bed and vaulted over the side. As he began to walk Wit snagged him by the back of his shirt.

“Joey, did you have your shoes on in the back of the El Camino? Tell me you didn’t have your shoes on in the back of the El Camino.”

“I had my shoes on in the back of the El Camino.”

“How many times do I have to tell you . . . . “

Joey quickly spun to face Wit, stopping him mid-sentence by means of an index finger across Wit’s lips.

“If you paid as much attention to blondes as you did to your precious truck you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Car,” Wit mumbled through Joey’s index finger.

“What?” Joey asked as he removed his hand.

“Car. I prefer to think of it as a car.”

“I’m with Joey. I say ‘truck’,” Gary added.

“It’s mine and I say ‘car’.”

Joey cleared his throat. “All those in favor of ‘truck’ raise your hand.” Two hands rose. “Those opposed? The motion carries. It’s a truck”

“But . . . . “

“Truck!”

“Let’s go replace the cook already,” Wit suggested, exasperated.

“Now we’re talkin’.” Gary started toward the restaurant.

“Car.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Wind chimes tinkled softly beside the kitchen entrance. The door was open allowing the evening breeze to pass through the old wooden screen door and into the kitchen. Tejano music played while the latte-colored cook kept time on pots hanging overhead using a wooden spoon. Wit rapped on the door frame causing more of a rattle than a knock.

“Hello. Hola. Excuse me!”

Wit got a bit louder with each greeting. The cook finally took notice, turned and walked to the door.

“Hey, Dumpster Man, what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could tell me if you saw anything last night.”

“I see lots of things. What do you mean?”

“That blonde I was with. Have you seen her before? What was she doing before I got here?”

“I never saw her before. I was sitting at the bar when she walked in. She took a seat and ordered a drink. Then she was looking at her phone. She was looking at pictures of you on her phone. “

Wit spun to face Joey and Gary, stunned. He turned back to face the cook.

“What do you mean pictures of me?”

“Pictures of you. One of you in front of a health club. One of you with a couple of pretty ladies. I think there was a picture of you getting into an old black truck.”

“Vintage black car.”

“No. It was a truck.”

“We told you it’s a truck,” Gary and Joey chimed in.

“Whatever. Wait. Me with two ladies? Do you remember what they looked like?”

“They were pretty. They weren’t very tall. They both looked like they were in their twenties. They looked like twins or something.”

Gary perked up at the mention of pretty twins. ”Twins! You never told me you know twins! You da’ man!” He raised his hand for a high five.

“Down, boy!” Joey said, quickly lowering Gary’s arm. ”I’m pretty sure the guy’s talking about Reese and Sunny.”

“Down, boy! Is that a dog crack? I hate when you do that!” Gary snapped.

“Joey, apologize to Gary,” Wit sighed.

“I’m sorry for the dog crack,” Joey said in a tone that suggested otherwise.

“I don’t believe I accept your ‘apology’.” Gary snubbed Joey, turning his back to him.

“Squirrel!” Joey yelled pointing over Gary’s shoulder. Gary spun to face the direction Joey was pointing. He shifted his head quickly to the left and right, stopped dead center and stood perfectly still, staring blankly forward.

“I hate you,” Gary muttered under his breath.

Wit stepped toward Joey and Gary placing his hands upon their shoulders.

“Ladies, can we save the antics for another time? Can we please focus? It is apparent that this wasn’t some random act. She knows who my family is. She knows where I work and what kind of car I drive.”

“Truck,” Gary, Joey and the cook replied in unison.

“Et tu, Brute?” Wit responded turning back to the cook.”Let’s get back to the matter at hand. Can you remember anything else about the blonde?”

“Nope. Shortly after you arrived, I finished my dinner and went back to the kitchen. The next time I saw you was when I found you dumpster napping.”

“Okay. Great. Mind if we poke around the dumpster a bit?”

“Hold on.” The cook disappeared into the kitchen and returned carrying two bags of garbage. Holding the screen door open with his hip he passed them to Wit. ”Don’t want to waste the trip.”

The threesome rounded the corner to the alcove that housed the dumpsters. Lifting the lid Wit peered into the first of two bins. He threw back the lid on the second bin causing it to strike the back wall of the alcove. The resulting noise was that of a cheaply made gong.

“Empty? He couldn’t have told us they were already empty? A lot of good this does us!”

Disgusted, Wit grabbed the pair of garbage bags and swung them toward the open trash bins. The first bag cleared the edge of the dumpster without a problem. The second slightly heavier bag clipped the corner, distributing half of its contents in the dumpster and half of them on the ground.

“Aw, man! This night just keeps getting better. Guys, give me a hand.”

The trio began collecting the bits and pieces of discarded tex-mex ingredients scattered about the alcove. Gary had a particularly hard time disposing of a bone from what had once been a good sized porterhouse, thinking it would be a nice treat for later. The area was clean except for an empty can of refried beans that lay at Wit’s feet. It rolled beneath the dumpster as Wit bent to pick it up. Wit sighed as he dropped to all fours. Turning his head sideways he scanned between the casters looking for the last piece of trash. From the darkness beneath the containers a metallic glint caught the corner of his eye. He flattened his torso against the pavement and reached for the can. It remained an inch or so away. Wit stretched a bit further and connected with the tip of his middle finger. A piercing sensation traveled from his fingertip through the back of his hand.

“Ouch! That son of a bitch is sharp!” Wit withdrew his hand and sat upright. “What the hell?”

Wit remained seated and examined what wasn’t a can at all.

”Joey, you need to see this.”

Wit raised his hand up over his head so Joey could see what he was holding. Stepping behind Wit he took hold of the object. Rotating it in his hands Joey could sense the quality of the piece. Handcrafted and highly polished, it was the most beautiful bracelet Joey had ever seen. It resembled a handcuff in that it hinged at its center. The clasp, although stylized, was unmistakably a serpent’s head. The inlaid lapis eyes seemed to glow within the sleek silver skull. A hint of crimson remained on the fang that had pricked Wit’s finger. Joey closed the bracelet by sliding the serpent’s tail into its mouth.

“Mother f . . . It’s the Ouroboros. I can’t believe this is somehow connected to that freak show!” Joey uttered in disbelief. He extended a hand to Wit and pulled him to his feet.” I thought all that crap was behind us. This is bad, really bad.”

“What’s an Ouroboros? Why is this bad?” Gary asked.

“Remember the story of how Wit got turned? That crazy Ribcage guy? He put that viper around his neck and went all zombie on our asses?”

“So you think the blonde is connected to him?”

“I think this is too much of a coincidence for her not to be.”

Wit stood staring at the bracelet in Joey’s hands. Joey and Gary’s conversation was nothing but white noise to him. He tried not to think about when he had turned, but it all came flooding back.