Zombie Fallout 5: Alive in a Dead World (23 page)

Tracy grabbed her mug of coffee and walked to
the other end of the room so as to not disturb her son.

“They should have called in by now,” she
said, staring out the large picture window at the pond, which was
just beginning to reflect the morning light.

Ron was all ready to pull out the standard
responses. Maybe the radio is broken (likely possibility, knowing
his brother’s penchant for breaking things), or maybe the batteries
have died (possible, but not probable; Ron gave them enough
batteries to last a year even if Mike had left the damn thing on
all day, every day), or they were making such good time, they
didn’t think to let anyone else know (also another possibility,
considering Mike’s what-me-worry? attitude). But he was not so
selfish as to not let his loved ones know what was happening. Ron
didn’t even go with the standard, “Everything will be alright.” The
lie died on his lips before he could even say it.

Ron sat down at the living room table,
looking at the same view as Tracy, occasionally remembering to
drink his rapidly cooling coffee.

“Anything?” Travis asked, looking over at his
mother and uncle.

A small terse shake of Tracy’s head was all
the answer he needed.

“Any more of that?” A stretching and yawning
Cindy asked.

Tracy was pretty sure Cindy and Travis had
arm wrestled for the right to sleep in the chair by the radio the
night before. Cindy looked like she may have paced the entire night
away.

“I’ll go get you some,” Ron said as he got up
to head into the kitchen.

“He…they have to be alright,” Cindy said,
hugging herself.

“How’s Perla doing?” Tracy asked, wanting to
avoid that conversation completely.

“Someday she’ll be alright, but not today.”
Cindy answered, now realizing that maybe she didn’t want to dwell
on the fate of her fiancée just yet either. “The view is
beautiful,” Cindy told Ron as he handed her a cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” Ron said. “If you guys need
anything, please let me know. I’d like to get to work as soon as
possible before it gets dark.” Work involved designing, and
building all viable means of defense of the Talbot stronghold. Ron
wasn’t a betting man, but he was fairly certain Mike would be back
and he would be coming in hot. Meaning every zombie and vampire for
a thousand mile radius would be in chase. That was Mike; he never
got himself halfway into trouble, he always made sure to be fully
wedged tightly in its grip, and he planned on being as properly
prepared as possible.

“Hi Perla.” Cindy said as she wrapped her
arms around her friend.

“Anything?” Perla asked.

Only the resulting silence answered her.

“I’m going to help Uncle Ron,” Travis said,
removing the small blanket.

“Be careful, hon. Your dad used to tell me
all sorts of horror stories about your uncle and that machine he’s
using.”

“The back hoe?” Travis asked.

“Yeah, that thing. Just be careful.”

Travis looked like he wanted to tell his
mother that there were way worse things to be afraid of. But now
that he thought about it, being around his uncle using a
fifteen-ton machine had its own inherent dangers.

***

Ron was fueling the machine and getting ready
to check the hydraulics when Travis came out to the garage to meet
him.

“You need any help?” Travis asked.

Ron actually preferred to work alone because
he didn’t have the greatest track record running the big machine.
There were enough houses with their siding missing to attest to
that. But he could tell his nephew needed to keep busy doing
something.

“Sure, I can’t get into the tree line with
this beast and I need some holes dug about yay big,” Ron said,
roughly showing a box about a foot deep by a foot across.

“What are they for?”

“Explosives.”

“Sweet,” Travis said as he went over to the
wall and grabbed a pick and a shovel off the peg board. “I should
have stayed with them,” Travis said to his uncle, his back still to
him.

“They’re just late calling in. You don’t know
if anything is wrong,” Ron answered his nephew. It sounded flat
even as he said it.

“I’m faster than any of them, I’m as good a
shot as my dad. I could have kept them out of trouble,” Travis
sighed, turning to face his uncle, his seventeen-year-old features
strained from the stress.

“Alright, I’m not going to lie, ever since
your dad was a kid, he found some of the most unusual ways to get
into trouble. It’s like he has a trouble-homing beacon on so it
knows where to go. But somehow he always comes out smelling sweeter
than when he went in. Now, I don’t know what kind of mess he’s
gotten himself into this time, but there’s no reason at all to
think he’s not going to pull out of it like he always does.” Ron’s
words seemed to have a measurable effect on Travis. “Come on, we’ve
got a lot of work to do before they get back.” Ron wrapped his arm
around Travis’ shoulder and showed him exactly where to start
digging.

***

“Hi Tony, how you doing?” Tracy asked. She
was sitting at the table with the radio.

“I wish they’d hurry up and get back,” he
said, sitting down next to her. “This not knowing is horrible. If I
was twenty years younger, I’d be out there looking for them.”

“I saw you on that on-ramp. I think you could
handle yourself just fine.”

His eyes twinkled at her as he flashed a
smile and grabbed her hand. “How have you put up with him so long?”
Tony asked, half kidding, but also half serious. “That kid has more
kinks and quirks than piping done by the Three Stooges.”

“That’s a pretty old reference, Tony, and I
never liked that show growing up.”

“Butch…I mean Mike and I,” Tony started with
a faraway look in his eye, “used to sit and watch it every Saturday
morning. I’d seen them all, years before as a kid, but it was a way
for the two of us to be together to do some bonding. I’d always
wished that I had spent more time with my children as they were
growing up, but Mike got the least time of any of them. Maybe
that’s not such a bad thing, now that I think about it.” And then
he smiled.

“Well, at least I know where he gets his
humor from. They’ll be back, Tony.”

“You’re that sure?” Tony asked, looking her
in the eyes.

“I am,” she answered. “Do you want me to get
you some more coffee?” Tracy asked, getting up so as not to give
away her illusion of holding it together.

“I would,” Tony said, handing her his
cup.

As Tracy was leaving the room, she turned to
answer her father-in-law. “In spite of every flaw that man
possesses, and there are more than I care to count, he is a
wonderful father and husband with whom I cannot imagine spending
the rest of my time here on earth without. That is why I have put
up with him and why I know he will be back.”

Tears welled up in Tony’s eyes.

“I’ll be right back with the coffee,” Tracy
said, giving Tony some time to collect himself.

Chapter
Twelve – Mike Journal Entry 8

“Oh fuck!” Was the first thing out of my
mouth. In retrospect, I wish I had thought of something better. My
best friend had just been dealt a death sentence and the most
profound thing I could think to say was an expletive. My English
teacher was going to slap me upside the head if she ever found out.
And then I followed that initial bad opening statement with one
almost equally as lame. “Are you sure?”

BT rolled up his sleeve. A neat half moon
wound on his forearm wept blood. “And before you go asking if what
bit me was a zombie, you can match the wound up to that one’s
mouth,” BT said, pointing to a zombie that laid close to his
legs.

I wanted to tell him that most likely wasn’t
going to happen. The zombie in question appeared to have every
skeletal feature in its face and skull crushed, but even still, it
was easy to see that it was indeed a zombie and not some random
urbanite, gone cannibal. I sat down heavily next to BT. “How long
ago?”

BT looked over at me. “Couple of hours, I
think, lost track of time after I pulled that trigger for the
thousandth time. I was really hoping to avoid the part where
you
blow my head off.”

“Wait…what? I can’t do that, BT!” I
exclaimed, getting back on my feet.

“Listen, pencil-neck, you are not going to
let me become a zombie. I will purposefully hunt you and you alone
until I eat your skinny ass.”

“Great, you can join Eliza.” I meant it as a
jest, but as the reality of that statement hit, we both became
silent for a moment. I tightened my grip on my rifle.

“You have to, Mike. I won’t hold it against
you. I’ll talk to you when you get upstairs.”

We both stopped talking.

“This really is going to be an awkward
conversation,” I said to BT, referring to his statement about
running into me on the streets of Heaven.

“He has to let you in, doesn’t he?” BT asked.
“I mean you’ve done so much good.”

“That’s just it, BT, there’s nothing for him
to let in. Whatever corporeal part of me I housed is gone, and
that, my friend, was my golden ticket. Without it, I’m just another
bag of bones.”

“I would have brought more beer if I’d known
we were going to have a party,” BT said.

‘What?’ my stare asked.

“You know, the whole pity party thing.”

“Not hilarious. Come on, get up,” I said,
extending my hand.

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if you shot me
where I sit?” BT asked.

“Come on, man, let’s just see if there’s
anything we can do. Maybe the wound wasn’t deep enough to transfer
the parasite. The house I just left, the lady living there is a
nurse.”

“Mike, you’re stalling.”

“No shit!” I yelled at him. “How much of a
rush do you think I’m in to put a bullet in my friend?”

“Okay, fair enough,” BT said as he got up.
“You think a nurse in North Carolina is going to have any kind of
answer for me?”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t think the Dalai Lama
himself had an answer, but it bought me some time. Within a few
minutes, we were within sight of Mary’s home. Some of her dinner
guests had departed, but not enough of them. I’d say a good fifteen
to twenty were still hanging around for some leftovers or maybe a
doggie bag.

“How we going to get by them? I’ve got ten
rounds,” I told BT.

“I’m fully loaded,” BT answered.

“You’re holding a bat.”

“Yup. It hasn’t ran out of ammo yet.”

“Where’s your sword?”

“It got stuck,” he answered.

I had no desire to know how it had become so
imbedded in its victim that not even BT could dislodge it.

“No way, BT, we’ll figure out something
else.”

“By the time you think of something else,
I’ll be nibbling on your innards. Yo zombies, I’ve got something
for you!” BT yelled, standing up from our hiding spot behind a
small bush.

“I hate close combat, BT.”

“Don’t get anywhere near my swing; homie
don’t play that,” BT said with a wild glare in his eyes.

***

“Mom! Mom! I see the big man again and Mike!”
Josh shouted from his mother’s bedroom window. He had been keeping
a watch out ever since his play partner had left.

Mary and Gary came running in from the
kitchen.

“My God, he’s huge!” Mary exclaimed.

“What the hell is he doing?” Gary asked,
watching as BT roared and brought his bat up. Gary turned slightly
to his left and saw zombies running straight for BT. “They’ll kill
him.” And then Gary watched in alarm as Mike stepped up next to BT.
Gary ran out of the room into the living room to grab his
rifle.

Mary was too enthralled in the scene before
her to notice the departure.

“Mom, what are they doing?” Josh turned to
look up at his mother.

“You should stop watching,” she said
robotically, but she made no move to shield him from the view.

***

The first zombie reached BT and met a
blissful exit from this world, courtesy of a Louisville Slugger,
the preferred choice of zombie slayers nationwide. The zombie’s
skull conformed to wrap itself around the bat. Crushed bone giving
way to hard wood. I don’t know how I saw it, but the force of the
contact was so hard, I watched the zombie’s dental fillings fly
from its mouth. There were seven of them, apparently somebody liked
their sweets.

BT had pulled the bat back and was swinging
again before the first zombie could find its final resting place.
It was those damn twitching legs that I think about a lot when I
wake up in the middle of the night. BT’s next swing caught zombie
number two square in the mouth; and the shattering of its teeth
made me cringe. The third zombie that made it to BT was a young
woman, and BT didn’t hesitate a beat as he brought the meat of the
bat down on the top of her skull. The sheer force of the contact
brought her to her knees, and her brain ruptured around the
intrusive object.