by Mark Tufo
“What’d you grow up in a barn?” came Denmark’s voice.
I had heard the rebuke from my mother enough to know he wanted me to either go in or out and shut the door in either case. My intention was to continue on out and pull in some cold fresh air into my lungs in hopes to store it against the stove's blistering heat.
“Michael?” Denmark asked when I didn’t move.
Tracy turned to look due to Denmark’s tone. I was a man frozen, but not by cold. “Talbot?” she queried. I could formulate no response.
Finally I turned. “Boys.” And that was all it took. Brendon and Travis grabbed their gear and followed me out onto the balcony. It was the smell that had clued me in. I couldn’t see a damn thing below me. It was a new moon, and even if that wasn’t the case the thick cloud cover still would have blanketed any potential light. Between the smell and the shuffling, we once again found ourselves in the midst of the enemy. It didn’t quite smell or feel like the mother lode, but we wouldn’t be able to tell until the morning.
“Sweet Jesus,” Denmark said as he came to the railing.
“Den, don’t you use that kind of language,” Maggie shot from behind him.
“Haven’t seen a one of them in nearly a week, I figured it was over,” Denmark remarked.
I felt terrible. I knew without a shadow of a doubt we were the reason they were here. I don’t know how I knew it but I did. BT was busy moving some of the ammo cans into place. Jen was loading and then checking her loaded weapon over and over again like a looped tape.
Tommy stood next to me. I was going to have to ask him how he kept doing that. “He’s coming Mr. T.” He might as well have sliced through the thin skin up my spine, cutting through the small layer of connective tissues and nerves and then pulled the bloody pieces apart to drop ice into the wound. I managed to not convulse at his words but not by much. Tommy hugged me tight although I didn’t relish the attention. The last time Tommy hugged something this fiercely was when Bear had sacrificed himself for us. The ice on my spine turned to salt, and my throat constricted. “I’m sorry Mr. T,” Tommy wailed.
I wanted to assure him everything was going to be alright, but all that kept going through my head was, ‘Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.’ You get the point. I was collecting my thoughts when Jen asked me where she should set up.
“Uh.” My mind was addled. “Uh, maybe take Tommy back into the room and get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day and nothing’s going to happen tonight.” ‘Unless I die,’ I wanted to add.
“Tommy’s still in the room.” Jen answered.
“Wha…” I turned to look. Tommy was still seated in the far corner of the room. Maggie was busy wiping chocolate off his face.
He peered up and over her shoulder when he felt I was looking at him; his expression told me the encounter had been real. ‘Oh fuck.’
I told myself over and over again that long night that I was still alive. But who was kidding whom. I was a dead man walking. Had Tommy cursed me with a self-fulfilling prophecy? Would I now seek out death? Or had he blessed me with the opportunity to tell the ones I loved how I felt? Now remember, I am a former Marine raised by a former Marine, marching into death was my business. Telling people I loved how I felt about them scared the shit out of me.
“Jen, you’ve been doing a great job. That gun is loaded,” I told her. Damn it, okay I’ll get better with the next one.
I could feel her confusion at my words as she answered me. “Thanks, I think?”
“Hey BT, how you doing man?”
“What do you want Talbot? Can’t you see I’m busy?” BT was busy stacking ammo cans of varying calibers all around the top balcony of the motel. The Battle of Motel 6 might not become nearly as famous as the Alamo, but I would bet we would fire as many shots.
“I just wanted to tell you BT, thank you for saving my life back there in Bennett.”
Without looking back at me as he placed another fifty pound can down. “Didn’t so much do it for you as I did it for myself.” Now he stopped to look at me to find out my reaction. “I told you before Talbot, you have this uncanny knack for getting out of jams and I want to be there when you do.”
“Thanks, I think?” I answered him. “All the same I wanted to make sure you knew I appreciated what you had done.”
“You’re welcome,” he said as he lugged a few more ammo cans away.
I was walking around like a wraith, the hustle and bustle of the living barely disturbing me. “Brendon, you got a sec?”
“Mike, I got all the ammo, besides I wouldn’t go down there now for a .50 cal machine gun.”
“No, no, take a break for a sec and walk with me.” We walked to the far end of the building. The air seemed marginally cleaner here. “Listen, if something were to happen to me, you need to remember who your first allegiance is to.”
“Is this about Bennett, Mike? I got the message loud and clear.”
“Yes and no Brendon. There is no one that is going to protect our backs but ourselves. Our first duty is to our family, I just need to know that you’re willing to make that step no matter how much it pains you. That you will forego all others for the ultimate safety of Nicole and the rest of the family.”
“Mike, you’re talking crazy. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Nicole is safe, and the rest of the family.”
“That’s all I needed to know. No matter what happens tomorrow I just wanted to tell you that it has been an honor fighting next to you. I knew men with twice the training that only fought half as well as you.” I couldn’t be sure but I just about felt his chest swelling with pride.
I was half way back down the walkway when he said his “Thank You” followed by “That was weird.”
I went back into Denmark’s room. The only occupants were Justin and Henry. Justin was parked a mere foot and a half away from the stove. If I hadn’t known better, I thought he might be trying to burn something out of himself. Shit, maybe he was. I could see him shivering as I approached.
“He’s close, Dad.”
“Who’s close, son?” I asked him
Justin looked up at me. His tortured eyes said it all. “Eliza said she has a surprise for you. She says that you left somebody behind at Little Turtle that she has found to be very, very useful.”
My throat closed, not because of the forewarning omen, but because of the grip this evil, oily presence had on my son. I kept flashing back to him as a wide-eyed kid who loved to fish. He had even gone so far as to fill our bathtub up once and put all our expensive fish in it. Fury had pumped through my veins when I came across the small splashes of water that led to the bathroom. The accumulation of those fish had cost me over a thousand dollars. The door nearly came off its hinges when I barged through. Justin smiled up at me, his two front teeth missing, and repeated the phrase I had taught him: “Catch and release, Dad. Catch and release.” Like a super soaker to a match, the anger melted into laughter. I lost a few fish to the stress of the endeavor but that seemed like a small price to pay for the parental wisdom I gained. We went camping the next weekend next to a stream. Didn’t catch anything; best time ever.
“How you doing son?” I asked. We both knew what I meant, wasn’t really a secret between us.
“Slippin’ Dad. When I think about it, I can hold it off, but when I’m tired or sleeping or even in a bad mood she starts to needle away in my head.”
“You need to fight it with everything that you are, Justin. I wish I knew what you were fighting. It’s a lot easier to take out an enemy that you can see. Justin, I need to know if you’re a danger to them.”
“Dad, we both know the answer to that. Sometimes I think it would be so much better if you just left me on the side of the road. But I’m so scared. She said she would exact her revenge personally if I left you.”
“Can Tommy help?”
He shook his head in the negative. “Tommy figured out some way to get around her influence but he holds no sway over me. Every time I g
et within ten feet of him it’s like someone is rabbit punching me in the kidneys. I think he feels the same way. I’ve seen him try and hide his grimaces.”
I had no answer. Cialis couldn’t cure this impotence. I couldn’t track down a doctor in the world that would know what to do. Shaman maybe? I’m sure I could find a tribe of Black Feet around here somewhere.
“Dad, I’ll do what’s right if it comes to that.”
I couldn’t catch my breath. I wouldn’t even acknowledge what he had implied. I told him I loved him as I stumbled out of the room. I nearly did a header over the railing before Tracy grabbed my arm. She had been watching my encounter with Justin. I knew that she had been keeping a close eye on us since my accusation.
“You alright, Talbot? You look like shit.”
“Goes hand in hand with how I feel.”
“What did you and Justin talk about?” she asked innocently enough.
I looked at her with as little facial expression as I could pull off. My muscles rippled underneath trying in vain to not display the stark terror that bristled through them.
“I was ah…asking him if he would be able to shoot tomorrow.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t play poker, Talbot, you’d be living in a refrigerator box.”
“Nothing wrong with that, it’s easy to heat them.” My piss poor attempt at humor didn’t bring me far from the edge of my despair.
When Tracy felt I was no longer in danger of toppling over the railing she headed into the room to see if I had upset Justin. Didn’t that beat all. Travis was next on my list, only because he was closest. “Hey Trav,” I started off innocently enough.
His eyes glistened in what murky light was available to us. Most would have thought it tears of fear. It wasn’t. I’d seen it before in Iraq. It was bloodlust. We had hours to go before we started the dance of death and Travis was burning through adrenaline like a funny car through ethanol. “What’s up Dad?” he asked, his stare never coming off the unseen enemy below us.
“You know I love you right?”
He nearly tore his gaze away to see what my major malfunction was, but even my seeming jaunt into femininity couldn’t pull him away from the projected task at hand. “Dad,” he fairly squirmed as he said it. It was good to see that under that steely-eyed mask was still the kid who I had been tossing the football around with recently.
“I just want you to know son, no matter what happens, it’s… look at me.” He turned. “It’s important to remember it’s not about the killing.” By the stare in his eyes I could tell that he was not grasping the meaning of my words. “Trav, it’s not about the killing, it’s about the living. We kill so that we may live.”
“Dad, that’s what I’m doing,” he said in that perfect teenage tone that implied he was master of all he surveyed. “That’s what we’re all doing.”
“It’s a fine line we walk, son. I take absolutely no joy in these kills.” His gaze dipped. “As soon as we take enjoyment in the killing of others, no matter what the state of them, we have already lost.”
“Lost what, Dad?”
“Our humanity. We fight and we kill to protect ourselves and those we love because there is no stronger bond than family. When all else goes to shit, we are all that we have to rely on.”
“Like it has?”
“Like it has,” I agreed. “We’re it. We are our last line of defense. I would die a thousand deaths before I so much as thought one of you might get hurt. That is a heavy burden to carry. Someday when you have a family of your own it will be your burden to carry. We kill these monsters because we have too, not because we want to. It’s a fine distinction, Travis and I just don’t want you to get lost along the way.” I tousled his hair (which pissed him off), told him I loved him and walked away before he saw the glistening in my eyes that had more to do with my inner feelings. Like any teenager, I figure he grasped about 10% of what I was shooting for. It would be many long years (which I earnestly hoped he had) of deep reflection of this day. He would come to his own conclusion. I either made my point or I did not. With my death it would be something he would dwell on constantly. If my death kept him from losing himself in the battle then it would be worth it.
I had just finished masking the majority of my leaky duct works when I came across Nicole. She was hovering close to Brendon without making it look too obvious that was what she was doing. “Hey sweetie. How’s my favorite daughter?” It was an old joke between us.
“Hey Dad.” Her smile put a glimmer of light in my blackened heart. Nicole was as intuitive as they come and saw no real reason to mince words. “Dad, I’ve seen you making your rounds, what gives?”
“Just giving the pre-battle pep talk.” I lied badly. She didn’t buy it.
“Dad?!” she fairly demanded. I thought she might even stomp her foot like she used to do when she was five and didn’t get her way.
A parent’s first instinct is to protect their children and that was my first inclination. I was going to blow off Nicole’s concerns and gloss it over with frivolities. She would have seen through it for sure but it would have gotten me out from under her questioning stare. I decided to temper the truth. This time she let me get away with it. “I just don’t have a good feeling about tomorrow, Coley.” I hugged her fiercely.
“It’ll be alright Dad,” she said, halfway between a statement and a question. I am supposed to be the rock upon which my kids can crash their concerns against. But this rock was feeling a little spongy at the moment.
Brendon saved the day. “Hey Mike, we’re all set, I’m gonna turn in before the fireworks begin. You coming Coley?” he asked.
“Thanks Brendon.” My dual recognition of his work and pulling Nicole away was not lost on him.
Nicole looked long and hard at me, trying her best to ascertain the underlying truth beneath my veiled words before she turned and followed her betrothed. “Good night Dad,” she called back. “I love you.”
I croaked out an “I love you too,” thankful for the darkness in the night that hid the waterworks. I had thought I had completely escaped with my manhood unscathed, but I was wrong.
“Alright, Talbot, out with it.” Tracy had come up behind me and had startled the hell out of me.
Nothing but the truth was going to appease her, and my mind was entirely too befuddled to come up with anything even fairly convincing. “Tommy hugged me,” I told her. It sounded kind of pathetic when I put it that way.
“And?”
“And what?”
“What’s the rest of it? Tommy gave you a hug, he does that all the time.”
“He… he told me he was sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Talbot what aren’t you telling me? One of the most lovable kids in the world gives you a hug and then apologizes. I don’t see why that is making you walk around all long faced and telling everyone what a great job they’re doing and that you love them.” I watched as the light of recognition came on in Tracy’s awareness and then she did something I never figured, she laughed. “Oh that’s it! You think you’re going to die tomorrow! That’s hilarious!”
“But… but Tommy hugged me.”
Her laugh stopped mid-stream. Her index finger of doom lashed out. “Listen Talbot!” I was all ears. “You are not dying tomorrow or the next day for that matter or any time soon, I won’t allow it! You cannot leave me alone in this nightmare!” Her index finger turned into a loose fist as she hollowly punched me in the chest, her forgotten laugh approaching a sob. “I won’t allow it!” she screamed. I was too stunned to even reply. Work that was nearly completed started again as people scrambled to look busy before Tracy could turn her angst on them. She spun on her heels and headed back to the room. The zombies waited patiently below, rocking slowly back and forth.
CHAPTER 19 Journal Entry Seventeen
The morning brought sunlight, and that was the end of the good news. Two hundred, maybe two hundred and fifty zombies stirred below and more were coming. We could see them ap
proaching across frozen fields, from the highway and from God (if he cared) knows where. Let’s see, I could use pert phrases like a moth to a flame, or maybe like a lawyer to a car accident or maybe just the truth, like a zombie to a brain buffet. We could hear some of the zombies that had broken through into the rooms below and the lobby.
A large sheet of glass shattered as Tommy came up to the railing. “That’s the Kit-Kat machine, Mr. T. Whew, pretty glad I got them all out last night.” He was grinning as he hefted up a pillowcase stuffed to the brim with the delicacies.
Our encounter last night didn’t seem to be on his radar at all. Was he purposefully suppressing it or had I made too much out of it? Questions, questions and no fucking answers, isn’t that the way of the world?
BT opened fire. The bloodbath had begun. Travis had waited as long as he could. The Mossberg thundered through the air followed shortly thereafter by the high concussion rounds of Denmark’s AK-47. The smell of iron rich blood as it poured down storm drains nearly masked the stench of the dead. Body parts littered the ground, blown clean off under the strain of trying to capture a high-speed lead projectile. Rotten half-digested stomach contents spilled out of lacerated intestines. Zombies were becoming mired in the detritus of body parts. More than one zombie fell over entangled in its own bowels. The smell of shit, believe it or not, was entirely more welcome than the gangrenous odor of the dead. Denmark’s rapid rate of fire and seemingly endless supply of ammunition had nearly halved the opposing force. Jen and Brendon had by now joined in to the chorus of destruction. Heads blew out their contents. Bone and brain pattered down like the world’s most macabre hailstorm. The parking lot became bathed in hues of reds and browns. The light snow that fell did little to hide the destruction. It more than anything else highlighted the contrast between its purity and the stained contents of the zombies.
