by Mark Tufo
Henry seemed satisfied as he lay back down. Meredith scooted Henry over so she and Ryan could get in. BT walked back over to the other truck and started dragging stuff out to put in the back of Ron's truck bed. Dizz and Sty kept a vigilant look out for the zombies.
"Do you think they stopped following us?" Dizz asked Sty.
"Maybe they never even started," Sty told him, neither one taking his eyes from the on ramp. When monsters were real, it was worth paying attention. This wasn’t algebra, attention deficit disorder wasn’t going to be a problem.
"I think I see one!" Dizz yelled.
Ron came over. "Just the one?" he asked.
"Yeah, it's a shuffler!" Sty said.
"Shuffler, huh? I like that. Alright, one slow one shouldn’t be too big of an issue. Let me know if any of his faster friends try to crash the party."
"Don’t you think that's kind of weird?" Dizz asked his friend.
"What?" Sty asked as he threw a stone at the oncoming zombie, not even coming relatively close.
"I mean just the one zombie and a slow one at that."
"Probably not even from the same bunch," Sty said, humming another rock in the general direction of the zombie.
"Maybe you’re right," Dizz said, turning to see how the rest of the group was doing.
Sty bent over, looking for a suitable rock to throw at their guest. As he stood back up, Dizz and Sty’s looks of astonishment mirrored each other’s almost perfectly.
Sty's 'shuffler' was now in full on sprint mode, while Dizz watched dozens of zombies swarm onto the freeway from the west bound side.
"Zombies!" they screamed in unison.
Tony gently placed Angel in the shotgun seat. Thankfully she was still fast asleep, although that was likely to change in the next few moments. Tony got out with his rifle. "If I didn’t know any better," he said to BT, "I would think they were trying to ambush us."
"I think your 'knowing' is just fine. Ron, it's your call, but I'd really like to rid the world of a few of these maggot breeders," BT said with some vehemence.
Ron did a quick mental count of the assaulters, distance and firearms available. "Let's do it," he said calmly.
"Dizz, tell me when that zombie behind us gets to within a hundred yards," BT said as he shouldered his assault rifle and let loose a volley towards the oncoming horde.
"Dizz, Sty, get in the car," Tracy said. They didn’t need much encouragement. Dizz immediately turned to follow the progress of the zombie that he now realized was only the diversionary tactic.
Fifteen or so zombies had made their way up the embankment on the far side of the highway, but none of them made it past the median. The one that had staged the diversion actually made it the closest only to have his goal wiped out from under him as he met a chunk of high speed lead with his head. It really was never much of a contest as his skin split first, met immediately by the eighth of an inch of tissue that did little more than lubricate the projectile with blood as it passed through this small layer. Next came the fragmenting of the much thicker skull. Bone shattered like a hollowed out Easter egg under the foot of a petulant child who had not received a Nintendo 3DS for the rising of Christ's day. The bullet, much flattened from its impact with the brain casing, still slid easily through the black-gray diseased matter that had once entertained thoughts of becoming a restaurant owner and asking Alicia Barker to marry him. As the projectile came into contact with the rear of the zombie's head, it significantly slowed from its initial impact and gathered some inertia as it sought to fight its way out of the dark enclosure and back into the sunlight. The mushroomed bullet broke through the back of his skull leaving a hole roughly the size of a baseball. Any thought he might have still harbored of leading anything resembling life crashed to the ground in shattered bits of past memories, pains and joys.
"Well that was gross," BT said, shouldering his rifle. Ryan agreed adamantly.
"And a little disturbing," Ron added. "They are showing the ability to deceive and to employ tactics. Does this somehow tie back to Eliza, or is it just a natural progression of the zombies?" Ron asked the group. Nobody answered. There was no answer anyone could conclusively give.
"Just what the world needs, smart zombies," Tracy said. "Hell, we've already got men, that seems like overkill."
Ron arched an eyebrow. Meredith went over and high-fived her aunt.
"Cute, real cute," BT said. "Can we get the hell out of here now?"
"Yeah, I agree. Let's get home," Ron said
"BT, what do you want to do?" Tracy asked.
"What? NO!" Ron said. "We are heading home."
"Ron, I'm not," Tracy said softly. "My boys, all of my boys are still out there. I can’t go sit this out."
"We got unbelievably lucky here," Ron sputtered.
"Well, I wouldn't call it luck," Tony said as he rubbed his fingernails on his chest. "Skill is what I'd call it," he added, trying to throw some levity into the next few difficult minutes he knew were coming.
"Tracy, you don’t even need to ask," BT answered her original question, "By your crazy ass husband's side is where I want to live or die."
Tracy nodded her thanks.
Henry was looking for some assistance down from the truck seat. Meredith helped him down. "Dad," Meredith started.
"Not a chance!" he said vehemently.
"I started out to do something," Meredith said.
"Yeah, and it damn near got you killed!" he shouted. Meredith flinched, but didn’t back down.
"I have to do this," Meredith told her father.
Tracy wanted to try to convince Meredith to stay with her father. Enough people were already in harm's way, one less would be better. But she could also see the determination that Meredith held. This war was going to be won by the ones that took it 'to' the enemy and not 'from' the enemy.
"I don't think I can handle another good bye," Ron said, turning away from his daughter if only in a vain attempt to hide his tears.
"Dad, I'll be back," Meredith croaked out past her own eye leakage.
"You'd better be," he said. Meredith came over to hug him fiercely. She then circled the truck to give her grandfather a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Water flowed freely from all involved.
"Wow, Talbot men sure do cry a lot," BT said as he got into the car. It was not lost on Tracy as he discreetly pulled his sleeve up to wipe his face.
"BT, you hold to our original deal," Ron said, pointing a finger at the big man.
"Always," BT answered, quickly putting on his sunglasses.
"Missed a spot," Tracy said with a smile as she wiped a tear away on his cheek.
"Damn you woman," BT said.
"I won’t tell anyone," Tracy told him.
"I saw it too and I'm not promising anything," Meredith said smugly.
"Wonderful, what could I have possibly done in a past life that I deserved to be in a car for a cross country trip with TWO Talbot women? Did I shoot the Dalai Lama or something?" He asked the heavens.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – Alex and Paul
Marta was shivering uncontrollably even under the small mountain of blankets that Alex, Paul and Erin had gathered for her. Alex was pacing around the bed as Erin administered a cool damp paper towel to Marta’s forehead.
Erin directed her statement more to Paul but it was meant for Alex also. "She's burning up."
"What did she mean 'worse' Tommy?" Paul asked Alex. "Tommy's on our side, right?"
Alex looked over to Paul, his eyes tortured with pain.
"Is she being used like Justin was?" Paul asked hesitantly.
"The creepy kid?" April asked as she brought more wet towels for Erin.
"That can’t be it," Alex pleaded. "We know Tommy. The kid is always smiling.”
"My husband used to say 'Never trust anybody who smiles all the time, they’re up to something,'" Mrs. Deneaux said, throwing her two and half cents into the fray.
"Guess your husband never had to worry about you then," Paul sai
d meanly.
"Paul!" Erin said.
"No, he's quite right," Mrs. Deneaux said, nodding towards Paul. "I always thought of smiling as frivolous behavior and my husband appreciated that right up until he decided to sleep with his secretary."
"Alright, way too much information," Joann finished. "I think we need to start figuring out what to do. I can feel the heat coming off of Marta from here. We should probably get her some antibiotics or something. And if Tommy is in her head and if, I'm stressing IF, he is on the other team now, are we in danger?"
"Well, I think we're always in danger," Mad Jack said.
"No existential crap please," Joann moaned.
"Sorry," MJ said, "I just thought it was worth saying."
"You know what I meant, all of you," Joann said. "How much more danger are we in now than we were twenty minutes ago?" That question hung somberly over their heads. Alex and Paul both had family that they were trying to get home to. The rest had thrown their lot in with them thinking they would be safer being away from a zombie homing beacon. Now that fundamental premise was being questioned.
"Go then!" Alex shouted. "It's what you’re all thinking, we've already done it once, what's another time? Your soul can only get stained so many times before one transgression becomes indistinguishable from the next!"
"Nobody said that," Paul said, trying to diffuse the situation.
"No one needed to say it Paul," Alex answered, his earlier anger ratcheted down a notch.
"I was thinking it," Mrs. Deneaux said. Paul shot her a fierce glance. She didn’t so much as flinch. "Oh, you can't be that naïve Mr. Ginner. Altruism is a wonderful trait, it truly is, but it is for the misguided. Why should one risk their own life for that of another with no promise of significant gain for the action?"
"Real humanitarian you are," MJ spoke up.
"Pah," Mrs. Deneaux spat, waving her arm at him.
"How much time do we have?" April asked as she looked towards the front door.
"That's the ten thousand dollar question, now isn’t it?" Paul responded distractedly.
"No matter what decisions we come to," Joann stated, "I think we need to get Marta some medicine first. Who's in?"
"Me," MJ replied, raising his hand, “but only if we stop at a Radio Shack too."
"Me too," April said, looking over lustfully at MJ who for the moment was not paying her any attention.
"I'm in," Paul stated.
"Paul," Erin said. Implicit in that one word was the question, 'Why do you feel the need to risk your life and leave me here?'
Paul shrugged his shoulders as if to say, 'Look who's going, someone has to watch out for them and it might as well be me.' Paul laughed a little; sometimes being married was a trip. They had just had an entire conversation, mostly unspoken.
"I will go too," Alex said dejectedly.
"No, you will stay here my friend, by your wife's side," Paul said, placing his arm around Alex' shoulder. "It'll be fine," he added hollowly.
"You really believe that?" Alex asked, calling him out on his statement.
"I have to," Paul answered him. "What's the alternative?"
"Fair enough, but hurry up or I'm going to throw Deneaux outside on her ass," Alex said with a small smile.
"What's the cut-off point?" Paul asked, looking at a non-existent watch.
"I'm going to lock the door on our way out," MJ said.
"That would be wise," Alex told him.
"That means you'll be locked in," MJ said as if he was talking to a five year old.
"I think he gets it," Paul said, grabbing MJ before Alex had the chance to lose his cool again.
"I just wanted him to be aware of that,” Alex heard MJ say as Paul led him away.
Mrs. Deneaux walked over to the far side of the store to the recliner section, and with a loudly audible sigh sat down in an oversized EZ Boy.
"I think her fever's breaking," Erin said excitedly as she pressed her palm to Marta's head.
Marta's eyes fluttered open as she uttered one word. "Demonio."
Alex made the sign of the Holy Trinity. Erin looked questioningly over towards him. "Demon," he offered in translation.
"Got it,” Erin answered with a shiver. Marta's eyes closed as a more restful sleep ensued.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – Ron - Searsport
As soon as Ron got home with his dad, Nancy took the kids to get them settled in. Their initial fears of being in a new place were put quickly at ease by Nancy as she got them cleaned up, fed and showed them where they could sleep. For now she set up a bunch of sleeping bags and pillows in the family room in the basement. She had a hunch that, at least at first, they would feel much more comfortable if they were all within arm's reach no matter how much testosterone the three boys pretended to throw around.
"They going to be alright?" a wiped out Ron asked his wife as she came up the stairs.
"As all right as any kids can be when they lose their parents," Nancy answered him solemnly. “I had hoped Meredith would come home with you," Nancy commiserated as she placed her hand on Ron's arm.
"Me too," Ron said, using his other hand to try and wipe the exhaustion from his features. Ron related all of the events that had transpired throughout the day. As he wrapped up, he thought that he most likely should have glossed over a few of the stickier details. Nancy was looking a little less hale than she had been a few minutes before. “The old man is a rock," Ron said, referring to his father.
"You've got more of him in you than you know. I'm going to check on the kids." Nancy needed desperately to take her mind off of just how close to a disastrous end her daughter had come. She was still mourning for one of them. She could not compound those feelings; her soul was already feeling threadbare.
All was quiet as Ron sat on his couch reflecting back on the day. His hands nervously twitched. He did not notice.
"Eagle's Nest, Eagle's Nest, this is Valkyrie," Mike said through the airwaves.
"What is wrong with you?" Gary asked, "It's Mount Olympus. You can’t just go making stuff up.”
"How many people do you think he has checking in?" Mike asked his brother.
‘More than you know,’ Ron thought as he got up to talk on the handset.
"That's not the point," Gary said a little peevishly. "If you're not going to follow protocol…”
"Protocol?" Mike cut his brother off, "Are you kidding me? Chariots of Fire my ass, I still haven’t forgiven you for ratting me out. You know that moose wasn't my fault.”
"Maybe if you had driven a little better…" Gary needled his brother.
"You're blaming my driving skills now! Maybe if I wasn't so distracted by your attempt at singing, or whatever you call that…”
"Boys!" Ron shouted through the microphone. "Am I going to have to put you two in a time out?”
"He could probably use it!" Gary shouted. A loud crashing sound immediately followed.
"I've got your time out right here!" Mike shouted to the most likely retreating back of his brother, but over the headset it was deafening.
"Mike! I've already got a headache. It's been a hell of a day,” Ron yelled.
Mike immediately turned all business, "Everything all right?" Mike held his breath waiting for a response. "Tracy make it back?" Fear was coiled in that question like a compressed spring.
Ron took a breath, he hated lying this big to his brother. Oh, there were times when it was necessary like on the Risk board when he would tell a mistruth about how many turns they would stay allies, but this was of a much higher magnitude, life and death to be exact.
"Ron?" Mike asked, fear threatening to overcome all of his senses rendering him useless.
"She's fine, Mike.” ‘Not so much a lie there,' Ron thought.
"Whew,” Mike said in relief. “Can I talk to her?"
"She's sleeping, they had a close call on the way back.” Ron had learned from his earlier revelation to his wife that it was best to limit the amount of details. “She's fine, Mi
ke,” Ron reiterated to stop the next barrage of questions. “As are the kids.”
Ron could picture his younger brother wiping the dampness from his eyes as he collected himself.
"Dad, everything alright?" Travis asked on the other end. Ron's vision must have been spot on.
"Good,” Mike choked out. “Just relieved. Your mom is safe.”
‘Dammit.’ Ron thought. ‘Didn’t actually say that.’
"It's a little early for a call in Mike. What's going on?" Ron asked. He didn’t get a sense that there was any urgency to the call but this was not a time in history where assumptions should ever be taken.
"Well, I was calling to check on Tracy and to let you know that we're heading south a little quicker than we thought,” Mike told him.
"What's changed?" Ron asked, intrigued.
"We've got reason to believe that Alex, and possibly Paul if they are still together, are now the objects of Eliza's attention.”
"What? Did she send you a text?" Ron asked sarcastically.
"Just about,” Mike answered back seriously.
