Читать книгу Allied Zombies for Peace - Craig Nybo - Страница 25

Chapter 18

Someone yelped in pain thirty yards behind Dan and Chuck. Ziggy Poulson, who had served with Dan and Chuck in the 4th Infantry Division, the “Ivy Division,” 1st Battalion, 14th Infantry, lay on his side, clutching his shoulder. Runnels of blood seeped between his fingers, forming red tiger-stripes along the back of his hand. He sneered, but not in pain. Chuck recognized the almost legendary anger on Ziggy’s face. Chuck knew that if Ziggy could stand, someone would pay. Chuck and Dan ran to Ziggy’s side.

“You okay, Ziggy?” Chuck said, trying to pry Ziggy’s hand away from the wound.

“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.” Ziggy propped his weight up with one elbow and looked through the nexus of moving people, trotting soldiers, parade spectators. He caught a glimpse of the shooter, the hippie bastard with the American flag pants, lying on the ground. Ziggy tried to stand up, but Chuck pushed him back down. “You have to let me see how bad it is,” Chuck said.

“It’s just a chicken peck, man.”

“Just let us take a look,” Dan said.

Ziggy released his grip on the wound. Blood oozed from his shoulder. Chuck worked the buttons free and pulled Ziggy’s shirt back. The bullet had just grazed the skin. A couple of stitches and a week would do the trick. “You’re going to be okay. Looks like the bullet grazed you and went on its way.”

“That’s what I tried to tell you,” Ziggy said. He pushed himself up to his haunches. “Now let’s go get that little S.O.B.”

Dan rested a hand on Ziggy’s good shoulder. “Look, man, I know that kid hit you, but this isn’t Nam. Don’t do anything you will regret for the rest of your life.”

Ziggy fixed Dan with a stern look that barely caged his legendary anger. “I ain’t never done nothing that I regretted as long as I lived, and I ain’t going to regret what I’m about to do to that sorry S.O.B.” Ziggy pulled away from Dan and stalked off towards Schecky, who lay moaning on the tarmac, cradling his ruined hand against his chest. Dan and Chuck followed.

This is going to get worse, Dan thought, a lot worse. Just as he formed the words in his mind, a throng, perhaps a dozen strong, NRPL protestors peeled out of the crowd and blocked the way to Schecky. Arnold, Schecky’s friend, crossed his mighty arms over his chest. “I sure hope you ain’t planning on doing anything hurtful to my friend back there.” The others in Arnold’s posse sneered non-verbal threats, rocking from foot to foot, making fists and shooting acid glances at the growing cadre of angry veterans.

Ziggy acted first, opening his thin lips and issuing an animal cry that came from somewhere deep in his lineage, perhaps from 10,000 B.C. He sprinted the few feet between he and the throng of NRPL, forgetting the pain in his damaged shoulder. The first part of his body to make contact with the posse of NRPL was his fist against Arnold’s chin. Ziggy’s single smash in the jowl quickly blew out to a micro-fracas of swinging fists, slaps, jabs, and woofs. As Dan leapt into the fight, he thought to himself, this is going to get a whole lot worse. He was right.