Zombie Fallout 9

Home > Horror > Zombie Fallout 9 > Page 9
Zombie Fallout 9 Page 9

by Mark Tufo


  “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.

  We 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.

  Gary’s Save

  “We were driving—”

  “That train, high on cocaine?” Trip asked, now excited. “I’ve done that.”

  I shuddered thinking about the world I’d been lost in with a man named Jack Walker. If I really tried, I could almost pretend it had all been a dream. Of course, I knew better, but it was still better to make believe it never happened, because if it could happen, even once, that meant it could happen again, and that was unacceptable. I’d seen nightmares there I’d never be able to forget. Had Trip been high driving that train? Better to not find out. The world was already terrifying enough without having to heap on to that particular memory.

  “No train, now don’t blurt out again. This is a good story,” Gary admonished him.

  “It’d be better if someone were high.” And with that, he pulled out a bowl. Not much of a shock there. At least it made him quiet for the majority of the story, until he started snoring, that is.

  “Mike, can you control your friends?” Gary pleaded.

  I shrugged. Getting Trip to do something was like trying to hold sand.

  “Yeah, Ponch,” Trip said during an exhalation. “Your brother is trying to tell us something, and your friends are being total narcs.”

  I thought BT was going to get up and pitch him off the deck. He stayed calm, showed more restraint with him than he ever did with me. I was going to have to ask him about that.

  Gary waited for a second, specifically looking at Trip to see if the man had anything more to say, before he continued. When he was satisfied, he went on.

  “So we’re in Belfast, and BT says, ‘How about a bank?’ I didn’t think that was a good idea because the whole front of it is glass, and unless they stayed in the vault, they wouldn’t be safe. But he’s huge, so I decided it would be better to go and check it out, and then he could realize that he’d made a mistake on his own.”

  “Gee, thanks,” BT told him.

  “You’re welcome. So we go to the bank, and the windows are gone and the place has been robbed.”

  I could only dwell on the stupidity of the people that steal money during an apocalypse. Food is a much more valuable commodity. Maybe it happened early on, and those poor ignorant fools thought the mess would all blow over and they’d be richer for it. Opportunistic maybe, asshats definitely.

  “Funny thing is, there was blue everywhere.”

  “Dye packs,” BT interjected. “Dumb asses must have got coated in it.”

  “There were two blue zombies out front, dead,” Travis added.

  “Talk about insult to injury,” I said. Poor bastards take stuff that’s not worth the paper it’s printed on anymore. End up looking like smurfs, get attacked by zombies, then turn into zombies themselves, and are summarily killed, probably for the money they had on them. That’s a bad day, right there.

  “We still went in.” Gary was giving the evil eye to everyone that was talking out of turn, including me. “Safe was open, some of the deposit boxes had been pried open. I decided it wasn’t a suitable location and ordered the troops out.”

  Ordered? BT mouthed.

  I placed my index finger up to my lips.

  “Travis wanted to go to the pizza place on High Street. I had to let him know that was not an appropriate place, either. I’ll give him credit, though, because I started to think about what was across from it.”

  “The post office,” I said without realizing I’d said it aloud.

  “You make me shut up, and then you start?” BT looked at me.

  “Yeah, the post office, Mike. Were you there?” Gary looked a little perturbed.

  “Sorry, just thinking.”

  “Did you know most people think silently?”

  “Sorry, sorry. Continue.” Tracy whacked me.

  “The building looked like it could still be open for business.”

  The post office, except for the safe, was a more secure location than the bank. It had three entry points: The front door was heavy wood with a small window; the rear was a metal security door. The only problematic one was the side door, which was made of heavy glass. That could be fixed, though.

  “I led the way because that’s what commanders do,” Gary said proudly.

  “I had to make him take his earphones off,” BT mumbled.

  “That’s when it happened!” Gary said, excitedly standing up. “We were attacked by a vicious horde of zombies!”

  Nancy gasped.

  BT leaned in to me and whispered in my ear. “It was two zombies, and they were in stasis. One of them was old enough he might have died of natural causes before he became a zombie.”

  “You should have seen it! I saved everyone. I pushed Travis back and then shot them before they could get us. It was close. I was afraid for everyone’s life but my own, because I am almost a ninja.”

  I had to suppress a smile. I loved my brother, and who was I to question his embellishment. We all see the world through our own filtered glasses, and this is the way he viewed his heroics. He did kill two zombies, no one was hurt, and he found a decent location for a Talbot hideout. In my book, that does make him a hero. Maybe not to the epic proportions he sees it, but that’s all right.

  “Mike, I think one of the zombies was Mike Two.” Gary said sadly.

  “Dammit.” Mike Two was about my age. Worked the counter there. From New York originally, but I didn’t hold that against him. I’d met him a few times when I’d come home to visit. Always really nice, and never seemed to mind when I was shipping things back to Colorado that I had no right to. There are just things that you could get on the East Coast that you couldn’t get in Colorado. More than once he’d let me know the best wrapping method to make sure bottles would make the arduous journey. Something about illegal beer just made it taste so much sweeter! He had a quick wit, and we seemed to share the same interests. In another world, I’m sure I would have been inviting him over to the house for barbecues. The reason he got the “two” moniker is because, when I’d met him and told him my name, he’d said his name was Mike, too. For some reason, well okay, I know the reason, I was on vacation and smoking some leafy substance. I assumed his last name was Tooh or something, so it just kind of stuck.

  “We put them in a car down the road.” Travis said. That was about as good a burial as we could offer: entombment by automobile.

  “I had my men clean the place up. We aired it out and made sure there were no other surprises. I now deem this place safe for Talbot inhabitation.”

  “Thank you, General Gary.” Ron said, ribbing his brother.

  Gary didn’t seem to catch it. If anything, his chest puffed out more. When my brother Glenn, Gary’s twin, had died, something inside of Gary had as well. I was always happy to see my brother push back the misery that I knew crept up on him from time to time. I’ve read that the death of a twin can cause irreparable damage to the survivor as if half of them had died and they can no longer function without the other. Gary found his ways, through music and the characters he desired to portray. If one of them was Gambo or General Gary, more power to him.

  “Well, I guess we should start delivering people and supplies.”

  “Everyone but you, Mike.” Ron said.

  “What?”

  “If you go, there’ll be a tornado or something like a killer shark will come out of the harbor and—”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, we get it.”

  “I’m just saying. Wherever you go, a storm tends to follow.”

  “Didn’t I say I understood?” I walked out of the room, letting them get to the tasks of getting everything ready to go. Ron had been messing around, but I’ve got to admit his words hurt more than he knew. Was I the fucking lightning rod for this tempest? Had I placed everything and everyone I loved under a black cloud?

  How different would everything have turned out if I’d just let Justin blow Eliza’s head off?

  “I know that look, Mike.” It was Tracy.

  “Huh?”

  “That look. You’ve got your bottom lip poofed out, your eyebrows are furrowed, and you have a thousand-yard stare. I’ve seen that before. You’re trying to make yourself go insane.”

  “How do you do that? The only emotion I’ve ever been able to read off of you is when you’re angry.”

  “Women are smarter.”

  “Well, I mean, I know that. I guess I just didn’t realize how much more.”

  “So, what’s going on? I saw the way you left the room after Ron was ribbing you.” She sat down; I, on the other hand, was pacing.

  “Is this all my fault?”

  She laughed quickly, and maybe involuntarily, it had come so quick. “The zombie apocalypse? I don’t think so. That’s a little self-centered, even for you, Mike.”

  “Ha-ha, real funny. Maybe you and Ron should work on your routine. Not the zombies, the rest of it?”

  “Eliza? How could you know that five hundred years ago, you were going to have an asshole relative? Although, given your family history, I guess that’s a given.”

  “Are you really here to help?”

  “Sorry. It’s just so easy when you’re all downcast like this, and I’ll be honest, I don’t like this version of my husband.”

  “I’m stretched thin here. Justin is slipping into depression. Half of the family has to move away, and the half that is staying might be in more danger than we’ve ever been in before. I’d say I have good reason to be somewhat downcast.”

 

‹ Prev