by Mark Tufo
Dejectedly he turned to me and said. “Yeah I popped off about five or six rounds, I’ve only got about four rounds left myself.”
We could hear more screaming. Most of it was coming from the clubhouse, but the majority of it was coming from Durgan himself. The language he was using was making me blush. I wanted to take Brendon and back away so we could first off get out of harm’s way and secondly to go get more ammo and preferably a better gun for him. I looked up just high enough to see over the trunk and was welcomed by an angry assault of hornets, well, more like MK-46 7.62 rounds but you get the general idea. One of Durgan’s flunkies had us pinned.
I tried not to let my apprehension show in my voice. “Umm, I think moving out of here isn’t going to be an option,” I told Brendon.
“I kinda figured,” he replied cynically.
We were pinned, low on ammo and the damn cavalry was nowhere in sight.
“Where the hell is Jed?” I asked of no one in particular.
“Oh, no!” Brendon said, as I watched his face fall.
“What? What’s the matter?” I asked. Unless the zombies were taking this opportune time to attack, I couldn’t understand what had him in such a funk. I then followed his line of sight.
“OH NO, you have got to be kidding me!” I yelled. I think I said something that more resembled Durgan’s vernacular than my own, but it got lost in the translation.
Coming towards us was Tommy. He was advancing as stealthily as a 250-pound hulking kid can. Needless to say he sounded like a bull in a china shop during an earthquake with cowbells strapped to its back, am I making myself clear enough?
“Is that a…a bow and arrow?” I asked incredulously. I knew what it was, it just wasn’t registering. We had been vacationing in Estes Park, oh man, had to have been ten years ago, back when Justin was the ripe old age of nine. We had gone into a sporting goods store and Justin had fallen in love with a kid’s bow and arrow set. It was the type with the practice arrow tips. It was a safe ‘toy’ unless of course you played William Tell. When we got back to the cabin and Tracy saw what I had bought him she ripped me a new one. It sucked that I had to wipe two holes for a couple of weeks, but Justin was stoked. Was that too graphic? Sorry.
Anyway back to my backfill story, like any kid he played with it for a good two weeks before he became sick of it. I think there were two arrows left that weren’t either broken or lost. I had put it up in the garage almost a decade ago and hadn’t thought about it since. How Tommy found it and why he was coming to ‘help’ us was a different story.
I so desperately wanted to yell out to him to stop and go home, but I didn’t want to bring undue attention to him either. But how the hell they didn’t see him coming was beyond my comprehension. I was already mourning his passing in my head; I was going to miss the kid. He was like a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark and desolate world. He got to within ten feet of our location. I was frantically gesturing for him to come and hide with us. I even rose a little to get him when the angry hornets came back. He just looked over at us and was smiling, Butterfinger mess spread all over his face. He then pulled the drawstring back so far on that little bow I thought it was going to snap in half. He let go, the arrow flew. I knew without a doubt in my mind that arrow was going to hit home. It was divine intervention, pure and simple. I heard the telltale thud of impact. Whoever that arrow had hit hadn’t even had time to cry out in surprise.
“Hey Mr. T!” Tommy yelled, waving happily. “Do you think they have any Twinkies in there?” He gestured toward the clubhouse.
I stood up slowly, still half-crouching and waiting for someone else to pepper my location. When no one did I turned back to Tommy. I didn’t know whether to kick his ass or kiss it. I know he wouldn’t have understood either gesture. So I just held out my arms wide. He rushed forward for the offered hug and nearly toppled me over which would have completed the mission the raiders had attempted. I so wanted to yell at him, but that huge grin and the fact that he had saved our lives, well that factored into my decision not to.
“Yeah, there’s Twinkies. Come on.” I put my arm around him and led him past the worst of the carnage so we could rummage through the food.
Little Turtle residents were now scrambling in the aftermath to help the wounded or offer solace to the dying. I wasn’t a medic or a priest, so I stayed with Tommy while the whirlwind of activity swirled around me.
Jed came in a few minutes later to assess the situation. “Good work Talbot,” he said as he slapped me on the back. “I heard what you did. Most of these snot nosed ‘hard asses,’” he sneered as he said that, “were running in the other direction. I’m glad you’ve got some mettle in you, we wouldn’t have made it through the night, much less anything further.”
I slightly nodded my head in acknowledgment. But then pointed to Tommy, who was gleefully stuffing two Twinkies in his face simultaneously, crumbs littered the floor at his feet. “He’s the real hero, Jed, he took out a machine gunner with a bow and arrow.”
“Holy cow!” Jed whooped. He shook Tommy’s hand and was a little taken aback by the stickiness of the crème filled Twinkie center that cemented the shake. “You’re a hero, boy,” Jed finished as he wiped his hand on his pants.
“Fank you!” Tommy said, spitting blonde orts, smiling with his teeth all sugar coated and gummed up.
“Let’s get you home Tommy. I’m sure Mrs. T is worried about you,” I said.
“Youf toof,”he finished.
“Yeah probably a little worried about me too,” I concluded.
Jed called out to us while we were leaving. “Emergency meeting in about an hour, I’d like to get this area cleaned up a little first.”
I waved over my back letting him know I had heard, I wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight anyway.
Tracy almost ripped the front door from its hinges when we came back up the walkway. Brendon had already come home to tell them where Tommy was and that we were all right.
“Are you crazy? What were you thinking? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you just get your Yoo-Hoo? Where did you find that damned bow and arrow?” She was rapid firing questions so fast I couldn’t even keep up.
Tommy’s eyes at first furrowed and then began to water. It was safe to assume he wasn’t liking Tracy berating him.
“Don’t worry, kid,” I said as an aside. “She’ll peter out in a minute.” It was funny watching this waif of a woman tongue-lash a person more than twice her size.
The glistening in Tommy’s eyes broke Tracy’s anguish. She immediately rushed forward, giving Tommy a big hug, getting swallowed up in his arms.
“What, no hug for me?” I asked dejectedly.
She pulled away from Tommy and directed the full force of her assault at me. “How could you? You’re a grown man you should have known better. What were you thinking? Oh that’s right, you weren’t thinking at all, were you.”
I was backpedaling as fast as I could to avoid the finger of doom she kept thrusting at me.
Tommy’s words of encouragement did little to help me. “Don’t worry Mr. T, she’ll peter out in a minute!” he yelled as he began to dig into his pockets for another sugary snack.
When Tracy finally looked like she wasn’t going to thrust her finger through my sternum, I pulled Justin aside.
“Justin, how do you know Tommy?” I asked. There were questions that needed answering. Whether Justin was going to be able to answer them was a different story.
“He’s just the retar…” He saw the scowl forming on my face, so he amended his words. “He’s just the door greeter, and I mean, you already know he’s a little slow.”
“Yeah I figured that part out but there’s something more to him too,” I said.
Now it was Justin’s turn to look perplexed. Good, now I wouldn’t be alone.
“Did you go and get him when the zombies started attacking the Wal-Mart?” I asked
“Even if I had thought to, I didn’t, Dad. My section, Gardening, is at the
complete other end of the building. We barely made it as it was, and to be honest I don’t think I’ve ever said more than hi to him. Although he gives me a damn sticker every time he sees me. He loves those stickers,” Justin said with a smile. “And come to think of it Dad, Tommy was already on the roof when we got there, he’s the one that unlocked it for us.”
“Would he have access to the roof?” I asked.
Justin looked at me incredulously, “Dad I’m not even sure if he knew there was a roof.”
There was more than meets the eye when it came to Tommy, and hopefully I’d have enough time to figure it out. I had a few minutes before Jed’s emergency gathering and I just wanted to ask Tommy a thing or two. Tommy was in the midst of quaffing down some M&M’s. (I didn’t even remember liberating those from the store.)
“Hey Tommy, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.
He looked up and a bunch of the M&M’s rolled to the floor. Tommy looked like he was having an internal battle with himself whether he should pick them up. Henry took care of the matter before it began to weigh too heavily on him. He pulled his gaze off Henry, maybe just a little miffed the dog had eaten his candy, but then Tommy gave Henry a big kiss on the forehead as an offering of apology for having had a bad thought. Henry in return licked his face, which Tommy delighted in, but personally I think the lick had more to do with the smattering of Twinkie all over Tommy’s face.
“Tommy,” I said again, hoping to reel back his attention.
“Hey Mr. T,” Tommy answered. “Oh right! Yeah, you can talk to me for a minute.
I figured no sense in beating around the bush so I asked him straight out. “Tommy, how did you get on the Wal-Mart roof the other night?”
He was thinking hard. I almost believed I could hear the wheels creaking in his noggin. And then when he came out with the answer it was like it was no big deal, something he had been dealing with his entire life. “The Voice told me.”
Goose bumps ran up and down my arms. “The voice?” I asked hoping for some elaboration.
“Yeah, you know, The Voice the one that tells you to do things,” he explained, digging into his bag of candy, thrilled when he pulled out a blue M&M.
The way he said it gave me the impression that he thought everyone had a guiding voice.
“Did you hear this same voice earlier tonight when you came to help me and Brendon?”
“Oh yeah, I was going to get my Yoo-Hoo and I stopped with the refrigerator door open. Are you mad because I left the door open? I forgot about it once before. The Voice told me where to look for the bow and then the arrows and that I had to come help you quick ‘cause you were in a lot of trouble.” My mouth must have been hanging open because he just kept going. “So you’re not mad about the fridge door being open?”
I snapped back to reality. “The door? No I’m not mad about the door. You saved my life, and Brendon’s too. I don’t care if a few Popsicles melt.”
Tommy’s expression became one of alarm. “Not the Popsicles!” he said as he started to rise, I believe to go shut the fridge door.
I grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry, Tommy. The Popsicles are in the freezer,” I said, doing my best to calm his nerves.
His face relaxed. “Oh okay, I only left the fridge door open,” he finished.
“Back to the voices,” I started, realizing he was once again paying at least some attention to me as he dug around in the bag looking for some more blue M&M’s.
“Voice,” he muttered.
“Huh?” came my reply.
“You said ‘voices,’ there’s only one, don’t you know that?” he said, but not in a condescending way.
“Well I do now,” I told him. Tommy just looked at me funny. I absolutely was intrigued, my ‘need to know’ meter was through the roof at this point. “Does the voice sound like God?” I asked conspiratorially.
“No,” he answered as he shook his head. His eyebrows creased as if to say I was nuts.
“Jesus?”
He shook his head again.
“The archangel Michael?”
“Who?” he asked, a look of disfavor crossing his face as he pulled a green one out of the bag.
Well if that wasn’t the voice then there was no real reason to explain who Michael was. “Tommy, who does the voice belong to?” I asked.
Tommy leaned in real close and whispered in my ear, making sure no one else heard.
I sat back in my chair hard when he told me. I was searching his face for any signs of deception or amusement. I found neither. The voice Tommy heard in his head belonged to Ryan Seacrest. ‘Oh that’s rich,’ I thought to myself. I had just moments earlier been locked in a life-or-death gun battle and I now found myself on the verge of laughing hysterically. I knew the voice wasn’t actually Ryan Seacrest’s, but that didn’t stop Tommy from believing in it wholesale. Something was going on. I couldn’t wait to see what Ryan had in store for Tommy next, as long as it didn’t get the kid hurt. I gave him a big hug which he reciprocated in spades, and went to get something to eat before the meeting, shaking my head and muttering “Ryan fucking Seacrest” all the way to the kitchen.
CHAPTER 11
Journal Entry - 11
The mood at the meeting was, in a word, depressed. We had lost eight of our small community and none of them were Mrs. Deneaux, I thought sourly. There had been five raiders, four were killed, one wounded and subsequently captured. You guessed it, my old pal Durgan had lived.
“Okay,” Jed began. “So now the question is, what do we do with the prisoner.”
“Kill him! Shoot him! Put him outside the gates!” came an assortment of angry replies from the group.
Jed was trying his best to restore order, but the crowd (mob) wanted nothing to do with it. Eight of their own had been killed and they wanted good old-fashioned Western justice.
“Talbot, this is the second run-in you’ve had with this guy. What’s your opinion?” Jed opted to turn the discussion over to me.
‘Thanks so much, Jed, for dumping this mess on me,’ I thought sourly as I stood up. “Jed, Durgan is dangerous and probably insane, but there isn’t anywhere here that we could lock him up. Even if we did we would have to spread our already thin resources to guard him. I’m also not much for cold-blooded murder, so I guess I haven’t solved anything,” I sat down dejectedly.
Jed scowled at me as if to say ‘Thanks for nothing.’
I shrugged. I wasn’t getting paid the big bucks to make the difficult decisions.
“Well then, we’re just going to have to set up a court system. I know that man killed our friends and neighbors,
but I will not condone a lynch mob.”
“What gives you the right? He killed my best friend!” More than one resident yelled their agreement with Don Griffin, the man that had shouted out. “We know the outcome of the trial already, let’s just skip the formalities.” The yells of agreement were louder and contained more voices; it appeared to me that Jed was quickly losing ground and his tenuous hold on power.
I don’t know why I stood again, part of me thinks it’s because my whole life I’ve bucked the system. Society says go ‘right’ I go ‘left.’ I’ve always been a rebel even if only in my mind.
“LISTEN!” I shouted. I waited a few seconds for the murmurs to die down. “You know Jed and I don’t always see eye to eye.” That received some laughs, most people remembering an easier life when the biggest problem was the correct time to put out the trash. “But he’s right - THIS TIME,” I emphasized. “I would like nothing more than to kill Durgan but not like this, not in cold blood. Mr. Griffin?” I asked. “Could you, even now, as mad as you are, walk up to that man and kill him?” I didn’t want him to have enough time to ponder the question. He was still pissed so I hastened on. “Of course you can’t, you’re not a murderer. I know it’s cliché but do you want to step down to the level of that man?” I spat out the last word. It tasted funny on my tongue even as I was saying it. “Jed’s right,”
I said with less vehemence. “We have to hold onto our civility or we just become a pack of rabid dogs.” The crowd wasn’t overly enthused with my speech but the dissension had died down and I think if put to a vote even Don Griffin would acquiesce.
Jed thanked me with a slight nod. “All right, we will meet tomorrow to discuss who will preside over the trial, who will defend the accused, who will prosecute and who will sit on the jury.” There was still some grumbling in the audience but it didn’t look like Jed was going to have his power usurped tonight. Jed continued. “Okay, now we have the more pressing concern of having to figure out how to defend against invaders. I honestly thought that zombies would be our only threat, for that I take full responsibility. I had the misconceived notion that any survivors would be thrilled at the prospect of joining our small society, not destroying it. If five armed men can cause this much destruction, we have to come up with another plan.”
“How about putting their severed heads on pikes outside the gates,” Griffin griped. Apparently he wasn’t quite done. Jed did the best thing he could. He ignored the comment.
“Listen folks, I made a mistake,” Jed said dejectedly. “We are going to have to be more vigilant, and more vigilance means more guards.”
That did not sit well with the natives. “We already spend most of our day doing guard duty, what’s the sense of living if all we’re doing is defending against dying?” said one of the gentlemen I had seen around the complex walking his Bassett Hound during better times. There were other irritable words but Basset Hound man had pretty much hit the nail on the head.
Jed put his hands up in a placating manner before he began. “This is just temporary, I’ve already been talking to Alex and he has come up with plans for guard towers, and thanks to Talbot we now have the equipment and supplies to build them. They will be about fifteen feet tall, with a retractable ladder, armor plating and lights. Because of their height, the guards on duty will be able to cover a wider range. This will mean less guards in the foreseeable future. We have also had ideas about heightening the wall but materials are going to be a factor. So if anyone can think of something, I’m all ears.”
