Inez took out her pistols-one at a time-and checked them, to make sure they were ready. She'd checked them before she went to bed, and she'd checked them after she got up, and even though nobody else had touched them, she checked them again. She'd seen too many good people go down from simple mistakes, because the fuck-up-fairy had bit them in the ass.
Deciding she was as ready as she could be, she reached out and plucked Larry's flashlight out of his shirt pocket. After checking it, too, she lowered herself onto the roof of the truck. As quietly as possible, she cat-footed over to the hole, and stopped to listen. Inez found herself unable to hear much over the zombies surrounding the truck, and the voices from behind her on the roof, where people were asking Larry questions. She couldn't do anything about the zombies, but she did manage to signal for quiet from behind her, and when she got it, she managed to make out various thuds, grunts, and squishy noises. Sitting back on her heals, she shook her head sadly. Dammit Kid, I told you that stupid couch was gonna get you killed,she thought to herself.
Inez started to climb to her feet and was startled by Bubba, who jumped down next to her, with a bang. Giving him a glare, she motioned for him to stay back and listened again at the hole. The noises had stopped. Taking a deep breath, she got up and carefully moved around the hole, without seeing anything. With a shrug of her shoulders, she aimed her pistol down the hole, and flicked on the light. There, not more than three feet in front of her, covered in bloody gore, was Pat, looking up at her. She was so startled she almost shot him.
"Would you get the damn light out of my eyes?" Pat asked, angrily.
Inez smiled in relief, and shone the light around the interior of the trailer. One of the first things she saw, was a very dead zombie, on the floor next to Pat's beloved couch, surrounded by empty brass. By now, the sun was over the horizon, and light was shining in through holes in the trailer roof, and wall. Lots of holes. As a matter of fact, she saw holes everywhere. The floor was wet from where a bullet had passed through a water jug, and there was fluid leaking from a #10 can of beans, also with a neat little round hole in it.
"Whoa, good shootin' Tex," Inez told him with at smile, "ya' got him."
"Oh hell yeah," Pat said disgustedly, "I got him all right." Pat paused to kick the zombie in the head, and Inez figured out what the squishy thumps were she'd heard. "Does this piece of shit look familiar? No? Well, maybe if I hadn't pistol whipped it quite so much. This is the one Jacob shot last night. It must have fallen through the hatch."
"I thought he'd killed it, Pat!" Bubba said, peeking over the edge at him.
"Yeah Bubba, he killed it. Look can we just get me out of here, please. When we went up onto the roof last night, we pulled the ladder up behind us. I'm stuck down here."
"I'll get it Pat," Bubba said, happy to get to help.
When Bubba was gone, Inez turned her attention back to the corpse, "Boy, if it was already dead, why'd you kill it again?"
"I don't know exactly what happened. It must have landed on the arm of my couch, or something, and when I laid down it fell over onto me. That's all I can think of."
"So you're not bit?" Inez asked.
"No ma'am. I didn't get bitten. It just scared the crap out of me."
"Hey, when I get out of here, I'm gonna stay on the top of the truck for a while, and get cleaned up some." Pat looked down for a second with his hands on his hips, and when he looked back up, there was a look there Inez hadn't ever seen before, "Inez, about that island, I really don't care where we go. I'd like somewhere where we won't be constantly surrounded by walking dead people, and I'd prefer for it not to be stupid-cold."
"I'll see what I can come up with," she told him, reassuringly.
"Thanks Inez. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna find my clean clothes. I'm afraid cleaning these would be more trouble than they're worth, and I'm not even going to try and clean my boxers."
Inez started to say something, but Pat gave her one of those raised eyebrow exasperated kind of looks that usually only teenagers can pull off. "Oh, got it. You really meant it when you said it scared the crap out of you," she said with a grin. Pat just closed his eyes and raised his hands, in surrender. "Ok Cowboy, there's baby wipes, clean water, paper towels, and trashbags down there somewhere. I'll try to keep everybody back from the edge, so you can have some privacy. Okay?"
"Oh, and while you're cleaning up, why don't you see if you can figure out how to get your friend there out of the truck, since we can't open the doors, to throw him out, with all of the zombies around here. We've got stuff that's got to go in here, when we load up, and we're gonna have to have people in here when we move out, too."
Pat stopped unbuttoning his shirt, and looked at the zombie in disgust.
"Sorry Pat. One thing's bothering me about the zombie though."
"What's that?" He asked her.
"Well, I'm pretty sure you're right about this being the one Jacob shot, and I know you dumped a full mag into it, right?" She paused until she got a nod, then grinning, "That's what I thought. I kind of noticed that, besides where Jacob shot it, there aren't any other holes in it." Inez stood up and moved away, without waiting for an answer. Behind her she hear she could hear Pat start kicking the dead zombie again, punctuating each kick with a curse.