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. They re probably like ants, sending out scouts.We don t want therest to know there s all sorts of food here. The men nodded and went outside, Shine first.Billy put the butt of the 30.06 deer rifle against his shoulder and slowly squeezed off a round.Thebullet went squarely through Mrs.Miller s left eye.The zombie flung out its arms and spun around.Shine raised his Remington pump at closerange and blew Mrs.Miller s head completely off.Shine and Billy dragged the body around the corner of the Diner and out of sight; then they came back in and shared a pull off Miguel Espinosa sflask of home brew.Martha hardly noticed.She kept listening to the radio and badgering Henry Roybal to keep close track of both the CB base station and the policescanner. Anything? she d say on her trips into the kitchen. Nothing, Henry would answer. Listen, Bobby Mack s probably way too busy to use his radio.Try not to worry. In the dining room, KHIP was playing Gordon Light-foot s Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Christ, said Shine, who picks the music? I wish to hell Henry had a jukebox. But he don t, said Bertie. We re just gonna have to make our own entertainment. He caressed the rifle lying across his lap.Then he looked uptoward Martha and held out his cup.Martha stared at him and started to turn away. Please? She thought about it a moment and then brought the pot over.His expression was earnest. Listen, Martha, if we all get out of this, think maybe we can start over? No. She resisted the impulse to start laughing hysterically. We can t start over what we never began in the first place. Something seemed to smolder in Bertie s eyes. I m really on my best behavior now. I know that, she said quietly. But I m being honest with you. Me too, he said. I really want you to be my girl. She shook her head. Final word? he said. dangerously, Martha thought.He sounds like he ll do anything.She nodded.Yes. Well, shoot, said Bertie. I guess the only thing left is to fuck you till you can t see straight.Or walk straight, neither. Try it, said Martha, and I ll kill you. file:///C|/.prehensive%20collection/Anthologies/Book%20of%20The%20Dead/Stephen%20King%20-%20Book%20of%20the%20Dead.htm[3/19/2010 4:15:02 PM] And I ll come back, said Bertie. And keep fucking you.Bet it doesn t do no good to kick a zombie in the nuts.What do you think? I think you re disgusting. Martha held the handle of the coffeepot tightly.The temptation to blister his face so that it looked like a basic zombievisage of torn and rotting flesh was nearly irresistible.She turned away. I ll wait, said Bertie toward her back. After you re done waitin for Bobby Mack, I ll still be good and hard. Without turning, she said, I can wait too. Not long enough for the Deputy Dawg. She whirled. What do you know? Bertie ostentatiously licked his lips.By six o clock it was getting dark.Henry Roybal came out of the kitchen and switched on the EAT sign. Think that s a real good idea? said Shine. You think zombies can read? They could when they were alive, said Billy. They re animals, said Henry flatly. Beasts.Probably color-blind too. Nobody pushed the issue.The neon on the roof fizzed and crackled.The glow on the snow outside the window cycled from red to green. Maybe we should make a break for it, said Miguel Espinosa. Head for New Mexico. Doubt there s anything different there, said Bertie. May as well stay where there s lots of food and booze. He winked at Martha. And a prettylady. I got a full tank of gas, said Billy to Miguel. How come you don t leave? Bertie said to Henry.The owner of the Diner answered without hesitation. My daddy stopped here in Fort Durham while he was on his way to California during theDust Bowl.He loved this place. He shrugged. I like it too.I been here for floods and droughts, blizzards and tornadoes.I m not going to bedriven off by a passel of flesh-eating sons of bitches. The radio intermittently delivered repeats of the afternoon messages.There seemed to be few developments.The warnings continued.Stay indoors.Lock the doors.Load the weapons.Aim for the head.Boots Bell finally added a new one.Save a round for yourself.The men in the Diner talked and drank.Bertie Hernandez mainly drank.By eight o clock he was chasing shots of tequila with mescal rather thanbeers.Shine Willis wasn t far behind him.At nine-oh-seven by the Hamm s clock beside the radio, Bertie hurled his glass against the far wall.It shattered below the mounted head of atwelve-point buck Henry s father had shot sometime around Pearl Harbor. I think, said Bertie, grinning horribly at Martha, it s time for some real entertainment. Miguel and Shine had moved into position to either side of her.Martha glanced at them, then back at Bertie.He stood up and played for a momentwith his Peterbilt belt buckle. What I propose, said Bertie, is to screw this little girl until my pecker comes out her asshole.Is there anybody here with an objection? I don t think I can let you do that, Bertie, said Henry Roybal. Didn t think so.You re a good man, Henry. Bertie drew the.357 magnum from its holster and shot Henry Roybal through the heart.The impactthrew the old man back against the kitchen doors.They flopped open as the body fell backward.The doors swung shut again, but now dappled withfile:///C|/.prehensive%20collection/Anthologies/Book%20of%20The%20Dead/Stephen%20King%20-%20Book%20of%20the%20Dead.htm[3/19/2010 4:15:02 PM] butterfly wings of blood. Anyone else? said Bertie, surveying the silent men.No one said anything.Not everyone looked wholly enthusiastic, but there were no objections voiced. Okay, then. Bertie set the pistol down on the table, then bent and grunted as he tugged his boots loose.His belt buckle followed.Martha bolted.She was not quick enough to elude Shine s grasp.She struggled, trying to knee him, bite him, crush his instep Miguel sluggedher across the back of the neck and she sagged toward the floor.She heard Bertie say, Let s see some pussy. She felt hands ripping her brown waitress dress down its buttoned front
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