Zombie Fallout 9 (10 page)

“We are his twelve apostles, and we will begin our own Garden of Eden!” I guess she was done as well, because she walked away.

BT looked over to me with the “What the fuck?” look. I shrugged. What the hell else could I add?

“Erin?”

“These are the people I'm with now.”

“You don't have to be.”

“It's where I
want
to be. Fannie saved me. I'd taken a half bottle of pills. Between that and the cold my heart had stopped. I'd killed myself, Michael. You don't go to a good place when you do that.” She shuddered as if in remembrance. “She pulled me from there, I can't imagine not going with her. She knows things. She knew where to find me, said she was looking for me. I consider that alone to be a miracle.”

I wasn't convinced, although what the hell Fannie and her troupe were doing there I can't honestly say.

“Are you coming!” Fannie shouted. It was not an order, though it sounded a lot like one. And it certainly was not a question.

Erin hugged me again. “I cannot thank you enough for helping us.”

“Yes you can. Come back with us.” If I had seen any hint in her eyes that she was being held against her will, I would have fought for her freedom, but I wasn't going to risk our lives then kidnap her. That made no sense, plus she seemed a happy, active participant to the group. “You know I'm not lying about the zombies, right?”

“I know that, but do you know for certain that Cuba isn't free of them?”

“How could I?”

“Fannie says God sends her messages.”

“Erin, please listen to me. Come back with us; you'll be safe there.”

“Are there zombies in Maine?”

“You know that answer.”

“I'll take my chances on the unknown and have faith.” She hugged us both again and walked away, turning once to wave. Fannie wrapped her arm around Erin's shoulder, and they kept moving. I waited until they were out of sight, one last desperate attempt to catch a glimmer of Erin's desire to be away from them. She never turned back around.

“What just happened, Mike?” BT had been watching as well. Ron had joined us.

“She's torched.”

“Fannie?” BT asked.

“Fannie is scorched earth. Erin has snapped. Paul's death broke something inside of her. She's not the first person to turn to religion in times of great need.”

“There's nothing wrong with turning to religion, but not with a blind eye.” BT said with a fair degree of wisdom.

“Now what?” Ron asked.

“Now we go the fuck home, I suppose.”

“Don't seem so depressed about it, little brother.”

“I'm not, just trying to wrap my head around what just happened. Of all the scenarios that played out in my head, this wasn't one of them. And that's not even taking into account the phantom phone call.”

“What?”

BT filled him in. I was still trying to come to terms with just letting my best friend's wife go with a religious cult to the God-friendly, zombie-free country of Cuba.

“Phantom, my ass.” Ron had gone to the shed after we watched Fannie and her flock leave. An entire wall was devoted to electronic equipment. Must have been some sort of way to communicate with other parks or something.

“Why lie about it?” I asked, turning the power knob just to make sure it worked. It crackled to life like only a piece of equipment with tubes can.

“Come in Talbot household, or I will use the force on you.” I used my best Darth Vader impression, which left a lot to be desired. Should have went with Rambo; at least that is passable.

“Uncle Mike?” It was Melissa, Ron's daughter. She was apparently tending the radio.

“Melissa, I am your uncle.” I kept continuing with my charade.

“You all right? You sound like you got a bad cold. Maybe you should gargle with some salt water.”

“Forget it. Everything all right up there?”

“Yeah, everything is good, although Meredith called me a be-otch, so I was just about to smack her arm, and then my mother came in and she shouted at us to behave like young women….”

I'd forgotten Melissa's proclivity to talk at ninety words a second and for stretches of ten minutes or more at a time. If I didn't sneak in our status soon, I could be here for the remainder of the day looking for an opening.

“Everything's fine. Heading home now!” I shouted and put the microphone down and backed away quickly.

Ron grabbed the microphone. “Love you!” he said real fast and did the same as I did.

We could still hear her talking. “…and then there was the cat. She went….” I walked out of the hut.

F
or all the
crap we'd gone through just to get to Erin and then semi-rescue her, we'd somehow been given a pass to get back home. The only part that was relatively disturbing was the large bloodstain and discarded bones of the man I'd previously set free. I could only hope I hadn't sent Erin off to the same fate. It was late by the time we got back to Ron's. I'd say after midnight, if I had to guess. We were halted by a spot light that I'm sure was baking my face and that authoritative voice of Arnold Schwarzenegger telling us to halt.

“It's Gary, right? It has to be Gary,” I said.

“It's us!” I said, getting out of the car, making sure my hands were high over my head, although Gary was more inclined to ask a bunch of questions before he shot, so I was somewhat safe.

“Where's the truck?” It was that same Arnold, halting, accented language, and it was amplified to ear shredding decibels.

“Don't ask.” Ron had got out as well.

“I did not say move.”

“You'd better shut off whatever the hell thing Mad Jack gave you. And that light, feel like I'm getting a sunburn.”

“You are no fun.” He said into the Arnold translator before we heard the squelch of the electronic equipment being switched off. His spotlight dimmed but had not completely shut down. I shielded my eyes when I saw lights had come on over at the house, so I could see. I noticed a figure on the deck peering our way. Looked about the size and shape of Tracy. I waved and got one in return.

“Where's Erin?” The words drifted over to us.

“I'm fine honey, thanks for asking!”

“Does a person normally wave when something is wrong?”

“Valid point.” BT headed toward the house.

“Don't agree with her; she's already always right.” I was about to follow him.

“How's it going, brother?” I looked up into the tree stand. Pretty much Gary's favorite hangout. He usually did some guarding up there. I think mostly he went so he could listen to his walkman and sing without anyone hassling him about it. He'd added on to the stand so it was more like a tree house. It had a roof and a small chair inside, a locked cabinet so he could put some food safely away from squirrels and enough batteries to last him the rest of the year. I'd been up there a couple of times. Told him he should expand it so it wasn't so cramped for two. That was when I realized he wanted to be alone. We all dealt in our own ways.

The entire house was awake and wanted to hear what had happened. I let Ron do it. I was happy to just sit back and relish in the moment. We were back and safe. Safe, yeah, what a fucked-up word, full of lies and deceit. If I knew then what I know now, I would have grabbed everyone and headed to Cuba with the church of Fannie-atics.

“You actually kept your word,” Tracy intoned as we laid in bed.

“I must be growing up.”

“Something is definitely growing.” she laughed. If this was a movie, this is where it would fade to black and you may or may not hear a sensual moan before cutting to another scene. Since I am not in the business of writing erotica, suffice to say it was a very tender night.

P
ayne stepped off the ship
. It was raining hard enough that small floods were forming along the sides of the road, the sewer system not able to keep up with the torrent of water. Although by looking at her, you would have thought it was a bright spring day, her long, red hair blowing back behind her. The rain not daring to touch her as it cascaded down. Charity and Sophia trailed behind as Payne walked upon the pier.

What started as a small spark soon turned the SS Crossbearer into a torch that sizzled hotly as rainwater hit it. The deck had been bathed in blood and discarded bodies. The vampires had eaten well; the crew having served their purpose of getting them across the ocean was given their just rewards for helping evil.

“So this is the New World?” Payne outstretched her arms. “It rains in this
New
England much like it did in the old.”

Charity wiped the corner of her mouth where a small pool of blood had collected. She sucked her coated finger deeply and sighed. “It has been a long time since we drank so deeply.”

Sophia was doing pirouettes fast enough that she was beginning to blur. She laughed wildly. “We will kill them all!” she said merrily.

“Yes, we will kill them all.” Payne said, much more levelly. “But there are things I wish to find out first.”

Charity grabbed Payne's hand and rested her head on the other woman's shoulder.

“What a glorious day!” Sophia had stopped spinning and was breathing heavily.

I
t was
two days after we got back from Massachusetts. I'd come downstairs, sort of oblivious to my surroundings. I know, shocker, right? I was in the midst of a fabulous morning ball-scratching session. Women won't understand that, but men get it. I bet it's sort of equivalent to a woman taking off a bra at the end of the day. There's a satisfaction that is difficult to explain, yet it is one of life's small to midsize pleasures. I stopped what I was doing immediately when I realized I wasn't alone. Although Tommy seemed to be completely unaware enough to my presence, I could have continued unhindered.

“Hey,” I said, trying not to look guilty of having my hand firmly entrenched in my crotch. See, this is why I didn't like to shake people's hands. There is no one that ever existed, poet, laureate, model, pilot, author, doesn't matter; within the last hour of you meeting them they have put their hand somewhere gross. I can just about guarantee it, and then they used to thrust that thing out and expect someone else to grasp hold. I can barely handle the disgusting things I do. What makes anyone think I want to add their list of stuff to that? If we ever do revert back to that old custom, just give that thought a go before you blindly reach out and grab that hand. Just imagine where it may have been very recently, and I bet you're right more times than you're wrong. I noticed that I had gone through my entire inner monologue, and Tommy had still not acknowledged my presence. I did think about resuming my unfinished nether region shake down but decided in the interest of civility to let it pass for now.

“You all right?” I asked, getting closer. Gotta admit I proceeded with caution. He seemed to be in another realm right now, and you know how the saying goes: “Don't wake a sleepwalker.” Who the hell knows what happens when you wake a territory traveler?

“They're here,” he said in a voice I don't think I'd ever heard come from him before.

“Who's here?” I had to ask, but I already knew.

“I thought we'd have more time.” He turned to look at me. There was a panic in his eyes. If a five-hundred-year-old vampire is concerned, then it's safe to say there's something to be worried about.

“Here as in
here
?” I moved to the window and looked out. I saw nothing, but that meant nothing. I looked up to Gary's tree house slash fort. A sting of concern raced along my veins and threaded through my heart until I saw him. He was doing a dance that no person should have to witness.

“Hey, man.” Trip had come up beside me. “Looks like he's doing Tai Chi.”

“I'm more inclined to think that's the Hustle,” I told him.

“Oh, I could see that. Do you think he broke into my stash?” Trip watched Gary intently.

“He doesn't do drugs.”

Trip looked at me like I'd been swearing at his mother. He walked away muttering something incoherently.

“Tommy, what's going on?”

“We should go outside.”

Within a few minutes, we were standing by the garden and a decent crop of tomatoes.

“They're coming, and I don't know if we should stay or leave,” he blurted out in a very uncharacteristic way.

“Start over, take a breath, and tell me what's going on in that head of yours.”

“They're on the East Coast; that much I know. I don't know specifically where. If I were to take a guess, I'd say Boston, but it could just as easily be Maryland. Pretty sure it's not Florida.”

“All right, I get the picture; they are in this country somewhere. Not necessarily here, right now, but I assume heading this way. Right?”

“I don't know. I don't know if it would be better to stay or go.”

“Go?”

“They know we're here or somewhere near.”

“Like a GPS?”

“Nothing quite that detailed. They'll be able to get close enough though.”

“And if we left?”

“They still might make their way here. To see where Eliza died.”

“We can't like psychically scrub the area clean or something?”

“Too much happened there between Azile's magic, the Shaman's powerful medicine, and Eliza's distress during her death. It's like a beacon to anyone who can read the signs.”

“So we could go across the country, and that might not change anything?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, that doesn't mean we can't make everyone else leave here.”

“Absolutely not!” Ron said furiously after we went back in and I explained what was happening.

“Ron, I'm not saying permanently, just for a little while.”

“And where would you like us to go?”

“Portland,” I told him.

“You want us to move two hours away?”

“I meant Oregon.” I was serious.

“This is my home.” He was getting angrier by the second.

“It's just a place. I promise I'll treat it decently while you're gone. No parties.”

“I'm not leaving, Mike. Let them come.”

“You say that now, Ron, and I get it, but these aren't just some bad people or some nearly brainless zombies. These are cunning, wicked, and evil vampires who care nothing of our lives. I sometimes wish I'd never come here.”

“Don't you say that. Don't you ever say that. Family is the most important thing. Now, even more.”

“If I hadn't come, neither would Eliza or now these three.”

“Mike, it doesn't matter now. You're here. We'll deal with this like we've dealt with everything else, as a
family
.”

Tommy sat heavily in a chair, his head hanging. “This is all my fault. I'm the one that lead Eliza right to you. I just … I just didn't know that she was using me to find you. I thought I was protecting all of you when really I was putting you in harm's way.”

“She would have found us on her own, Tommy. You know that. You saved us.”

“That's what I'm talking about, Mike.” Ron started. “You're not the only Talbot. She would have got here eventually whether you came or not. You just happened to be next on her list.”

I hadn't seen it that way. I guess that's the problem with being a narcissist, you think the world revolves around you.

“So where's safer, Mike? Do we send all the non-Talbots away?” Ron asked.

“Hold on, things have changed. Eliza was obviously out for our blood. But the three coming, I don't think so. We don't share the same violent history. According to Tommy, it's just mostly him, me, a missing Azile, and a dead Shaman they're going to want to see. The rest of you could ride this out somewhere else, and we'll see how this part plays out.”

“You make it sound like they're on a sightseeing tour. Is that a realistic expectation?”

I was about to answer. “Not asking you, Mike. I'm talking to him.”

Tommy looked up. “I don't know their intentions. They're curious, that's for sure, or they wouldn't have crossed an ocean. But I don't know if it's going to be words or blood that sates that inquisition.”

“Inquisition? That's the word you use there? Could you be a little less manipulative?” I asked him. I was angry. It was one thing that I was in danger. There was no need for anyone else to be.

He shrugged.

“Ron, what about the kids? Shouldn't we at least get them someplace else?” I asked. This had merit. If the vamps swept in here and killed us all, which was easily one of the top three outcomes, then no one would be spared.

“And who goes to protect them?”

That made sense, too. Dying by vampire was no better than dying by zombie.

W
e had a meeting that night
. Tommy laid out the graveness of the situation. There was a fair amount of heated exchanges. The idea of splitting our group obviously was met with hostility, though most agreed it was something that had to be done. If we destroyed the threat, then we would reunite and all would be well in the world, of course, until it wasn't. But that would be a fight for another day. The idea of the family splitting to me was a hedging of the bets. If we lost,
if
didn't seem so far-fetched, seemed more like
when
, but again something for another day. So, if we lost, the Talbot name at least would go on.

If I had it my way, only Tommy and I would have stayed at Ron's house, as the vampires were only concerned with us. Better we were the sacrificial lambs rather than place so many on the chopping block, as it were. Ron stayed, Nancy was taking the kids, all the kids, Gary stayed, as did Mad Jack, who apparently was working on a vampire repellant. I have no idea what that was, maybe a cross launcher. Is that sacrilegious? I asked him how that would affect Tommy and me. He got vague and quiet, quickly. I did not take that as a good sign. Trip stayed. Said he couldn't leave because he lost his Grateful Dead button collection somewhere in the house and wouldn't leave it behind. Stephanie was going to go. Steve, my sister's husband, stayed, though he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Of us all, he'd seen the least action. He looked a lot like a fresh recruit, shipped into a hot zone, green and all. I obviously stayed, and no amount of cajoling, threatening, or yelling could persuade Tracy to leave. Henry and his new favorite friend, Riley, stayed behind as well, though I wished they would leave. The good part was the psychotic Ben-Ben and the cat went, though I would have to fear for my kids now that there was a feline in their midst.

Now that we knew who was staying and who was going, the problem was
where
they were going. Probably should have figured that out first; seems we'd put the cart before the horse. Now we just had to scope out a place to make sure that where we sent our loved ones wasn't some sort of death trap. A lot of suggestions were thrown out. We scratched anything off the list more than fifteen minutes away. Partly because we honestly had no idea how long this exile was going to be, and we would need to resupply them periodically. Plus, we would all need the assurance of being able to check in on each other repeatedly. We would both have radios, and should a problem arise in their encampment, help could be dispatched immediately.

We settled on checking out Belfast, the next town over. It was close enough, and it offered brick buildings, at least downtown. Although calling the center of Belfast downtown would give you the false impression it was a big city. Big compared to Searsport, but Belfast proper would hardly take up a city block in New York City. Not that it would want to, mind you, just using a comparison. I actually sat this little expedition out. I had a gnawing pit in my stomach that if I left, that would be the time they struck. Luckily, most of my predictions were founded on misconceptions. Travis and BT kept an eye on Steve, Lyndsey, and Gary as they set about their expedition. Although, it was Gary that ended up the hero of the day. It's his story though, so I'll let him recount it.