When The Light Goes Out

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When The Light Goes Out Page 11

by Jack Thompson


  "..The big bad wolf.."

  It had been a bad time then. The two of us had wandered into a bad neighborhood. No, I hadn't witnessed anyone die. I wasn't that lucky, so to speak. I wasn't one who ever really saw such things. However I did see a rather violent beating.

  "..The big bad wolf.."

  I swore to never wander too far from my parents ever again once we got back. My brother seconded that thought, agreeing it was for the best. He didn't admit it, because he was my big brother, but he was scared too. I could tell. But he tried to be strong for me.

  "..Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?.." That didn't stop me from being afraid. "..Dodo.. Dodo.. Dodo.."

  Very afraid. It had taken forever for me to admit it though. Forever to ask, 'mommy, is that mean man going to come after me next?' "..I'm afraid of the big bad wolf.."

  My brother had picked me up that night. Pint sized me, and told me the story of Little Red Riding Hood. A version where, after finding out what the wolf was planning, Little Red opened up a giant can of whoopass on the creature.

  "..The big bad wolf.." Those words exactly. "..The big bad wolf.."

  'A giant can of whoopass,' he said. With the biggest grin you could imagine on his face. "..I'm afraid of the big bad wolf.."

  Try to imagine the pride in his eyes when I said 'whoopass' in front of my parents at breakfast the next day. Dad nearly choked on his morning OJ. "..Dodo.. Dodo.. Dodo.."

  I stopped being afraid after that.

  "..I can't be afraid of the big bad wolf.."

  Well, not being afraid altogether. Horror movies still made me go crying to mommy. My brother hiding under my bed, ready to reach out and grab my ankles got me to nearly wet my pants several more times before I got over that one. I still had various phobias.

  "..The big bad wolf.."

  But I tried to be strong. I fought as hard as I could for years to get over the little things. There was nothing wrong with being scared sometimes, I knew that. But one couldn't take a fear of the dark with them to high school.

  "..The big bad wolf.." To college.

  "..I can't be afraid of the big bad wolf.."

  So I more or less made myself mellow out. I didn't let myself be scared. Or at least I tried not to let myself be. Sometimes, it even worked. It worked really well. "..Dodo.. Dodo.. Dodo.."

  I got over some of my phobias. Like my fear of pigeons which really does have a long story attached to it. Not a long story that's easily summarized into three sentences. I mean a long, complicated, rather confusing (not to mention embarrassing) story.

  "..I'm not afraid of the big bad wolf.."

  I wasn't afraid anymore. At least no more afraid then the average Joe was. Everyone had something that could make them jump. Or hide under the blankets. But I felt a bit normal about my own fears.

  "..The big bad wolf.."

  I kept the song with me just in case though. "..The big bad wolf.."

  In case I got too scared to function. "..I'm not afraid of the big bad wolf.."

  Like how I felt walking through the dark storage room, bat in hand, ready to bust heads. Even though I wasn't trained to. Even thought I didn't want to. I sang the song, softly to the dark. Hoping that it would scare the monsters as much as the mere thought of the monsters scared me.

  "..Because.."

  A wall, I realized with a start and a stop to singing, was in front of me. I'd made it across the room without incident. I ran a single hand over the wall, finding the light switch quickly. I flipped it with the half angry, half confused question "Why is everything so inconvenient around this damned store?" I mean, the light switch for the front room was in the back. For the storage room it was in the back.

  What next?

  On the ceiling.

  "Don't tempt them, Excel.." I whispered, glancing quickly around the room. Then more slowly. Then one last time until I was sure there was nothing dangerous. The zombie had probably already been in the back before we even got inside. Blaz hadn't noticed him because he wasn't reanimated yet.

  "ExExcel?"

  "All's clear back here boys!" I called back to the frightened voice. Smiling quietly to myself. Silently thanking my brother for keeping me safe. It had to have been him that prevented karma from kicking me in the ass one last time. Who else would have done it? The fact that I'd remained safe going in didn't stop me from rushing to the exit though. I wanted to be back among the people regardless.

  I didn't know how to translate the looks I got. Some were gracious, some told me outright that I was a god-damned idiot, and I was lucky I survived. Which was entirely true. At any moment something could have jumped out and tried to eat my face, but nothing had. So I was lucky. Damned lucky.

  I got clapped on the back despite this. "Good work."

  "More courage then me right there." "We're proud of you kid."

  I grinned a bit at this, mostly the fact that a group of boys were willing to say it then anything else. Most of the time I'd just receive a borderline rude comment for my efforts, and that would be that. It would be the end of the story, and I'd just go on living my life. They'd go on living theirs. But whatever. It wasn't really the time to think about such things, there was a grown man glaring death at me. But I couldn't figure out what I'd done to upset Dustin. I'd been careful. I laughed out loud at that one, gaining several odd looks from the boys who chuckled nervously alongside me.

  Who was I kidding?

  I hadn't been careful at all.

  What I did was downright self destructive, if you really thought about it. Not important.

  There were bigger fish to fry.

  "You seem displeased Mr. Dustin."

  Unfortunately the 'mister' crack didn't gain a grin this time. "You think?"

  "Sometimes."

  "Apparently you weren't a minute ago." "Ouch. Burn."

  "Shut up, Ian." "Sorry."

  "Did I worry you Dustin?"

  "You think?"

  I grinned at the fact that he was beginning to sound more, and more angry. I shouldn't have been pleased about it, but I was in a way. Showed I was still mostly normal. Still able to make a grown man want to strangle me. Unpleasant as it may have been.

  "Ooh, I think Dustin's mad at me."

  "What's with the attitude all'ova sudden?!" Blaz demanded, blue eyes shinning at me. "Ye run off for a coupl'a minutes and suddenly yer the master of the universe, eh?" He stepped forward, and hit me with his cane, once in the leg. Drawing forth a wince, and a glare.

  "I'm going to the couches."

  "No you're not!" I almost couldn't believe when Dustin shouted it at me, reaching forward to grab my arm. "Yes, I sort of am."

  "No, you sort of aren't. Don't make me have this argument with you, Excel. You're an adult, I don't even have this argument with my kid anymore." "Point, get to it."

  "My point is you're not going, and that's final."

  "I thought your point before was that I was an adult." "Wha"

  "As an adult, I've made the decision that I'm going over to the couches." I ripped my arm from his grip, turned on my heel, and left after that one. Not looking back, only a bit upset. I'd just gone about saving their lives, and he was mad at me. I didn't get it, hadn't I done well? Shouldn't he have been thanking me or something?

  "I'm goin' to 'ave to get a wrist tether for the brat, eh?" Was the comment that I heard from Blaz somewhere in the distance. "Used to use 'em on me own brats when they'd wander off on their own..." But the story faded away after that, and I was glad.

  "I'd like to see him get a wrist tether on me.." I found myself whispering. As a way to rebel, to make myself feel better, I didn't know. But Blaz was right, I did have an attitude all of a sudden. Realizing this made me feel just a bit guilty, and I sighed. A glance over my shoulder showed that Dustin was actually following me, so I stopped walking.

  I was only slightly afraid that he'd yell. "Excel"

  "I'm a brat, I know." "You're stressed."

  "I was rude."

 
"Yes. Yes you were. You were very rude." I almost rolled my eyes when Dustin agreed with me, but I didn't interrupt him. "You were rude. And you were careless. And you could have gotten yourself, and all of us killed."

  "We would have died anyway" "But I shouldn't have gotten mad." "What?"

  "What you did was brave, Excel. I'll give you that. Not many people would have been very willing to just walk in there like that." I didn't bother bursting his bubble with the fact that I would have wet my pants had anything moved back there with me.

  "But you don't need to be brave." I felt a speech coming on.

  "Sometimes it's good. It's okay to be brave. I'll never tell you that it's a bad thing. Never. But when you're doing something just because someone wants you to.. How do I explain this?" The man thoughtfully tapped his chin. I couldn't help but notice he was in need of a shave. "It's dangerous when you do it just because. Some people aren't cut out to be that type of hero. Some people can rush into burning buildings, and dark possibly zombie infested rooms. Some are heroes in other, less dangerous ways."

  "You think I'm the other less dangerous kind, eh?" I cut him off then. Knowing where the conversation was going. It was oddly similar to the "Don't do drugs" speech I got in elementary school. And middle school. And one time in high school before they stopped caring. He was going to tell me that I didn't need to be like everyone else, and that I didn't need to please everyone, and I was going to agree because that's all you really can do while in that position. He wouldn't believe me and would carry on with the speech anyway.

  Unless of course I could get him off track. Like I was trying to do.

  "Are you a fighter, Excel?" "No, not really."

  "Were you trained to fight an army of the flesh eating undead?" "Were you?"

  "Don't avoid the question." "No."

  "You were brave before, and I am grateful for that. But Cathy had a gun, she could have gone, shot the guy, and been done with it. No one would have been at risk." "But she didn't go for him, did she?"

  "What?"

  "Now, I'm not knocking Cathy here. I'm actually kind of fond of the lady. But for all we knew there were a hundred other zombies going to bust out the moment that guy got through the door. If that had been the case, we all would have been screwed. Royal. No getting out of it. Cathy didn't move fast enough."

  "But she"

  "No buts. Go for the worst case scenario." "Worst case scenario, you die."

  "Bite off."

  "Don't mind if I do."

  I was really trying to curb my attitude when suddenly, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I didn't mean to be so obvious, but my head snapped in the direction. Dustin followed the movement, and got taken to the ground when something lunged at him. His speech honestly gave me half a mind to stand there, and watch his throat get ripped out, but I couldn't do that.

  No.

  I reached down, grabbed the young girl by the shoulders, and yanked her off of the man as violently as I could. I heard her arm pop out of the socket, and if that doesn't say something, I'm not entirely sure what will. I winced, but pulled until she was out of the way regardless checking on Dustin as I yanked him (though more gently) to his feet as well.

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah. Fine." His words were clipped as he was pulling his knives from his pockets. I wasn't very sure where, or when I'd dropped the bat.

  And I still didn't entirely understand why a father was walking around with weapons, but it wasn't the time to ask. "Cathy!" I shouted as loudly as I could. "We could use you!"

  Then again, there really wasn't anything wrong walking around with weapons. A father needs to protect himself just as much as the next person, if not more. Especially with a zombie lunging at him. With this in mind, I stepped out of the way so I wouldn't get hit during the exchange.

  The knives looked rather nasty. Probably made for a messy kill.

  Unfortunately Dustin couldn't get close enough to the thrashing woman to cut her anywhere effective. Her arms, yes. Her legs, occasionally. But he wouldn't risk going for her throat, or her head. I didn't blame him either. I wouldn't have wanted to get that close to her mouth either.

  "Cathy!" I called out a second time, just a little more frantic then before. She didn't seem to be hearing me. She wasn't responding. She wasn't coming. I was afraid that we were going to have to take care of the zombie that Dustin was going to have to take care of the zombie by himself.

  That was of course until she froze, made a little choking noise, and fell promptly to the floor. Dustin stared.

  I stared.

  Blaz's cane wasn't just a cane. It was a sword.

  He was stashing a damned sword in his cane.

  I made a mental note to stay on his good side.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "A sword?" I sputtered, staring at the grinning old man in awe. He'd been hitting me with a damned cane sword, and I went about wondering why it hurt so damned badly. Maybe I

  was just an idiot. A dense, dense fool. Forgivably dense, perhaps. But dense all the same. "You've been packing a sword?!" I demanded to know this time.

  "Oh.." Blue eyes twinkled again as the blade disappeared into the body of the cane. The two pieces met seamlessly, I could barely tell there was more than one piece to begin with. "I don't know what yer talkin' about kiddo." I just stared at the man. "Don't give me that look kid, I've got me own secrets, just like anyone else in this place."

  I suppose he was right, there. But I also didn't quite care at that moment. All I knew was that the old man had a damned sword, and I wanted to know why he hadn't bothered to tell anyone. Didn't have the chance maybe? Couldn't find a convenient way to bring it up; which was actually the most plausible situation if you wanted my honest opinion.

  How does one go about saying "Yeah, I'm soandso, this cane is actually a sword. So how about them Yankees?" One doesn't, that's right.

  "Couldn't have spared the information at all?" "Nope."

  "And why not?"

  "Would that have made ye happy, young 'un? Would ye have been pleased to be told I had me sword in this 'ere cane?" "Very pleased, yes."

  "That's why I didn't tell ye!"

  I was almost mad that I hadn't seen the comment coming in the first place. I glared at the man's cackling, appeased only a little at the fact that Dustin was glaring a bit as well. He was obviously shaken up over his near death experience, and probably not very pleased at the old man's rebellion.

  Perhaps more upset then he was of my own.

  "Don't give me that face now." Blaz said, cracking a lopsided grin at the two of us. "I'm done with me fun now, ye can go back to being normal so to speak." "I resent that."

  "As do I."

  Was Dustin agreeing with me? I simply couldn't believe it. The man was agreeing with me and my complaints. Hell had most assuredly frozen over in those moments, as I whipped around the face the man. Gaining little more than a glance before he went back to glaring at the Irish man himself.

  "Blaz." Dustins voice was the embodiment of respect, however clipped his words were. He stared straight at the man with a look in his eyes that made me sure he wasn't actually seeing him. "With all due respect to you, these are dangerous times. You can't keep secrets like tha"

  "I'll keep me secrets however I choose to. I'm not taking any orders from ye. Not now, not ever. I'm much older then yerself, if ye haven't yet noticed this fact young 'un. I've fought in me share of wars. Protected me share of people. Raised me kids. Got meself an education. Not by listening to some selfassured child. So ye can just go shut yer yap about it."

  I stared.

  I hadn't seen that one coming either. Damn, unpredictable, stubborn old mule.

  The man turned and walked away, blue eyes shining with something that wasn't amusement for once. He honestly looked insulted, and Dustin honestly looked guilty. One assumed he'd been raised to speak to his elders much differently than he had. I could understand how it must have made him feel to disobey that upbringing.
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br />   I myself had been raised to cherish life. Yet I seemed to constantly find myself taking it from people. Given, life as a mindless zombie wasn't much of one. Perhaps it wasn't technically one at all. But nevertheless, who was I to decide to take it from them?

  No.

  Bad, Excel.

  You're not going into that jag now. You're not.

  No.

  I tried to smile reassuringly at Dustin, but it didn't seem to work too well. He didn't glare at me, no, but he certainly didn't seem to cheer up all that much. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could really do about it. I couldn't magically make him happy. I couldn't take away the shame, the guilt. Try to relieve it sure, but otherwise, nothing.

  "Dustin.." I sighed at the look he gave me. "Come on man, cheer up. Just a little."

  "He's right." The look in his eyes made me feel a bit guilty too. "He shouldn't take orders from me. He has so much more life experience. I am just some selfassured brat. It was presumptuous for me to speak to him in such a manner."

 

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