by Mark Tufo
When we finally managed to emerge into the daylight, it only improved our vision of hell on earth. We were firmly entrenched within the innards of the dead. Heavy gunfire was coming from the area we needed to get to. The good fight was still being waged but the outcome had been decided the moment someone thought to use 600 ton trucks to attack the camp. Doc was garbed in cammies. The dim watted light of an idea came to mind.
"Doc, sorry but you need to take point. And put your pistol away."
"Mike, I don't like being left in the dark. I'll defer to you because you have military training, but it seems to me we could use all the fire power we can muster right now."
"Doc we've got to time this right, for now, you are our prisoner. In another half mile or so we are going to have to play it the other way."
"Makes sense, but I don't like it."
"That's about the way of most of my plans."
I was thankful that the zombies were heading in the same direction as we were. It made getting to our destination worlds easier. Within ten minutes we were just outside the kill zone. The Marines had set up a final perimeter around the base housing and were not planning on taking any extra ammunition into the afterlife. Zombies were piled six or seven feet high in a miasma of parts, some were still moving but most weren't. We were going to have to find another egress. Even if we thought (which I wasn't) about scaling that assemblage of strewn bodies, there was no guarantee we wouldn't meet the same fate of those we had scaled. We would just be another throng of attackers to a machine gun emplacement.
The zombies had been temporarily thwarted by their extra-dead comrades. It would only be a small lull. Already, the wall of decaying flesh jiggled like an over-tall Jenga tower with two of its base beams removed. I was stuck. This was not how I had envisioned our return, held at bay by our own while completely ignored by the zombies.
"Mike?" Doc asked nervously.
"Thinking, Doc."
"Anything yet?"
"You'll be the second to know."
"No plan then?" he asked.
I knew he was nervous and so was I, but he wasn't helping.
'Hey Mr. … Dad,' ran through my head so clearly I turned a complete 360 looking for Tommy.
"Tommy, you shouldn't be out here." I yelled. I was concerned for his safety and I thought he might be doing another Rambo stunt like he had back at Little Turtle with the kids' bow and arrow set.
'I'm not out there, I'm in here.'
"Where's here Tommy? I'm going to need a little more information than that."
'In the apartment, where are you?'
"Tommy, you're right here, I can hear you, how is this happening?" I was more than a little confused. Which in itself isn't all that difficult a thing to do.
'We're family now Mr. Dad.'
"Holy crap! You can talk to me in my head? How long have you known?" I asked in amazement.
'As soon as you adopted me, geez don't you know anything?'
I wanted to ask him how in the hell would I know. This kind of thing usually didn't happen to me or any other person for that matter. Sarcasm aside, I asked him if I actually needed to speak or could I think the thoughts. My next concern was how much into my rancid mind could he read. I sometimes didn't like the things that popped in occasionally for an extended visit. I really didn't need anyone else privy to that. I'd check that out later if there was a time in the future.
I screamed in my head, I didn't really know what constituted a conversational tone when communicating telepathically
'TOMMY!!!' I waited as patiently as I could, nothing happened. I barely believed in the paranormal and now I was trying to use it for my own devices. 'TOMMY!!!' I screamed again. My brain hurt from the pressure I was exerting on it as I attempted to project my thoughts outward. Do you remember when you were a kid and had seen Star Wars for the first time? Then you went home after the movie and tried to move everything in sight with the Force? Please tell me I'm not the only one. This was like that, I had no real clue as to what I was trying, I was just trying.
'TOMM..'
'There you are Mr. Dad, why you shouting?'
'I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET A HOLD OF YOU,' I said excitedly with my thoughts.
'Use your inside brain voice Mr. Dad.'
'SORry IS ThiS BETter?'
'Sort of, sorry it took so long to respond. I was eating a Pop-Tart.'
Now granted this was all new to me, but it seems like you should still be able to mind-speak with someone while you were eating. I don't know, maybe this was as natural to him as normal talking and he just applied the same rules. Don't talk with your mouth full. Wrong time for a tangent thought.
'NEEd a little HELP TommY. JUstIN and I are outside the perimeter.'
'Wow you guys are close. Mrs. T's… Mom's been worried sick.' Tommy's mind-voice got significantly lower in volume. I thought something might be interfering with our signal until I realized he was whispering to me. 'She said if anything happened to Justin or you she was going to go back and smash your Jeep up with a baseball bat.'
I knew it was an idle threat but it still struck deep. 'Woo, she's pissed huh?'
'Not anymore, I just told her that you guys were safe.'
'That's the problem Tommy.' I was getting better with my volume control. 'We can't get back into the barracks without risking getting shot from the Marines. We're outside by the south entrance.'
I could hear Tommy huffing and puffing. How was that possible?
'Okay Mr. Dad, me and Travis are going up to the Marines by where you are at now, and are going to tell them you are out there.'
'Awesome, thanks Tommy, so now what?'
'He says if you really are out there.' His brain voice lowered again. 'I don't think he believes me.' And then came back to normal. 'He says you have about two minutes before the zombies break through again and then all bets are off. What does that mean Dad T?'
'It means we have to climb over this barricade, shit! Sorry.'
'S'okay.'
'Tommy, you tell him that I'm coming over first and then Justin, we are in normal clothes, then we'll be followed by Doc Baker and his family, you got it?'
'All set, he said he'll believe it when he sees it.'
'Thanks kid, save me a Pop-Tart.'
'Ham or meatball?'
Neither sounded appetizing if I ever got hungry again and that didn't look like it was going to happen anytime soon. I peered at the macabre fence in front of me.
"Alright we're set." I said to the group forgetting to realize that they had not been privy to one iota of my previous conversation.
"Set for what, Mike?" Doc asked.
"We're going over." I told him.
"Over the smooshies?" Rachael asked alarmingly, using Porkchop's descriptor.
That all too apt name rang clearly in my mind as I nearly fell over as my foot slid out from under me. I had stepped on a head that had received its fair share of lead. It completely crushed in on itself as I used it for a stepping stone. Only Justin's quick reflexes kept me from going face first in what appeared to be the eviscerated mid-section of a seventy year old man.
Justin grimaced as he pulled me back. "That was close."
I had a smart assed comment lined up, something about 'your mom's meatloaf' but just the thought of opening my mouth to utter words was not a good idea. Jets of saliva were shooting up from the back of my throat, better to coat the walls of my esophagus as I trained to be a super-model.
Gore covered my boots and I wasn't six inches off the ground yet, becoming a zombie was looking better and better. "Come on Talbot." I yelled, mostly to psyche myself up. It didn't work so well. Every time I stepped up a foot, I sank half that distance down into a stew of human parts. At this current rate I would be up to my eyeballs in shit. Wow, now there's a cliché I never thought I'd actually experience.
"Dad."
I was halfway up the pile. "I know, clocks ticking. Tick fucking tock!" I scrambled the remainder of the way up, thankful that my
earlier prediction did not come true. I was only about shin level sunk in. Tommy was about a hundred yards away, waving. I returned the gesture. Even from this far away I could see the 'Well I'll be damned' expression on the Marines' faces within the machine gun nest. The gunner waved a more exaggerated 'Hurry your ass up' gesture.
"Let's go." I said turning back to our small party. The only one who had a more difficult time scaling the dead than me was Elizabeth and that was mainly due to the fact that she had carried Rachael up. Self-esteem took a minor hit. I was going to try and not beat myself up over it.
We had covered about half the distance to a zone of relative safety when the zombies began to breach the wall made of their own. Guns blazed on full auto. A car could have been made every minute with all the brass that was hitting the ground. Yes I know there are no brass cars, and that it wouldn't have any tires and seats. I was just trying to give you an idea of how many bullets were being fired.
Doc's kids were almost as thrilled to see Tommy as I was. He hugged them all and ushered them upstairs. I leaned against the wall of a home that I would be leaving soon. Even through all the gunfire I was able to finally catch a breath and relax. It was a momentary respite to be sure but as any military person can attest, you take five whenever and wherever you can.
"I'm going up to see Mom." Justin yelled, he was a foot away and I almost didn't hear him.
"I'll be up in a minute, I just need a moment." I told him.
"You did good, Dad." his throat probably flaying from the volume he had to use to make himself heard.
"You too." I mouthed, and patted him on the shoulder.
I watched as a few speeders halved the distance, but for the most part this was a stalemate. That would change. I'd witnessed that fact first hand. Ammo would run low, guns would jam and misfire, soldiers would fatigue, zombies would break through and eat everything. I'd seen this movie and the sequel, both sucked. I was still a few vials of zombie repellant short, and I was damned well positive that no humans were going to yet try and circumvent this perimeter, not when your ally was a zombie. I couldn't very well ask Doc for the ones I had given him.
The foray had been mostly victorious but I had also come up short. I was still alive to fight another day which counts for something. I tapped on the ammo-feeder's shoulder until he finally looked up. I made the universal sign for 'have a smoke?' You know the two finger 'v' shape up to your mouth and then away. He must have talked to my wife, because he gave me the 'You're fucking nuts' eye roll but then he looked down to his breast pocket where I saw the tell tale bulge of a cigarette box. I reached over, careful to stay out of his line of sight. I was thankful that the lighter was in the pack because I don't think he would have looked up again. I was bummed that they were menthols. I hate menthols. Gotta tell you though, that might have been the best cigarette I ever had in my entire life. I finished it up. Placed the pack back in his pocket and whistled my way up the stairs. I figured at this point and at this pace I had an hour or so left of functioning sanity.
Tracy looked relieved to see me mostly intact, although something in my gaze gave her pause to reconsider just how well I was. True to his word, Tommy handed me a meatball and raspberry Pop-Tart. Climbing the zombie wall again was looking better and better.
Normally this would be about the time Tracy would give me shit about risking my life and the life of her son. But we had saved the Bakers, so that was something on the plus side and she could sense that my soul was pulled as taut as it was going to go before it snapped. What happens at that point? Can one soldier on with a broken soul? What would be the point? I was wrung out, like a dishtowel that had seen better days. The dead were winning. Shit, they had damn near won already.
"Want a beer?" BT asked.
Like a finger to a soap bubble my pessimism popped. Guys sometimes know how to get right to the heart of the matter and skirt around all the bullshit.
"Is it cold?"
"Does it matter?" He threw a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon my way. Damn near dropped it.
Normally I wouldn't touch PBR with zombie-encrusted fingers, but this one beer must have been poured from the kegs of the gods. It was a sweet nectar which quenched more than just the dismalness of this existence. Three large gulps later, I was the proud owner of a mild pleasant buzz. I'm a cheap date, so sue me.
"So what's the plan?" BT asked drinking his own beer. I noticed it was a Molson Canadian.
"Fork it over." I said motioning with my hand.
"What are you talking about?" He replied innocently.
"You get a Molson and I get a PBR? I was the one out there running around like an idiot. I think I deserve something a little better than this." I said tossing the can lightly at him.
"I just figured that was the beer you drank. I mean you seem so 'low rent.'" He laughed, finishing off his own beer in case I came over to get it. "Sorry man that was the last one." He said swishing the bottle around to show me.
"No it's not, BT. You have a whole 6 pack in a cooler behind the couch, did you forget already?" Tommy asked him.
BT gave the meanest look he could muster towards Tommy and then smiled. "Must have slipped my mind."
"Must have." Tommy echoed.
"Yeah must have." I repeated. "Now give me one."
I sat on the couch; this one I was going to savor.
"What now Mike?" Doc asked nervously as he paced the room.
"We wait." I said as I wrapped my lips around the neck of the bottle.
Much fidgeting ensued. I was curious to see who would W.T.F. me first. Tracy edged out the Doc, BT knew better than to waste the effort.
"Mike?" She said questioningly.
"It's the end game." I started. "We're in check. Eliza has us pinned and she has all the powerful pieces left on the board. We can't leave. First off the Marines aren't going to stop shooting until they are out of bullets and once that happens that means that the zombies will be coming."
"What about the pendants the doctor was talking about?" Tracy asked.
"Don't have enough." I said taking another drink off a rapidly draining bottle. Doc looked slightly guilty that his entire family possessed this treasure and mine didn't, especially since I was the one who outfitted them all. "Don't worry Doc, I'm not going to ask for them back."
Tracy looked pissed that I wasn't going to do just that. "So we're just waiting here to die. I just can't accept that!" She yelled.
"Want a beer?" Tommy asked her.
She was going to flip out or calm down. We all watched as she teetered on top of that fence. I was thankful that she toppled to the calmer side, no sense in leaving the planet all in a huff.
"We're not dead yet." As I held up the beer to see if there was anything left in there worth drinking, I commented with "another dead soldier" and threw the empty away in the trash. One of these days I'd think before I spoke.
The zombies advanced very little over the course of the day as the brave Marines threw everything they had at them. I didn't even want to know what kind of damage a Mach-19 (fully automatic grenade launcher) was doing to the enemy. Bugs and birds would feast here for generations. Their kind would sing songs and create poems about 'The Time of Plenty'. Gettysburg was a mild skirmish compared to what raged outside.
I walked to the window when I could tell that the time of Eliza was fast approaching. "She must be getting impatient." I said aloud.
Doc had not sat down since we got here. Now he joined Travis and me as we gazed out the window at a yet unseen enemy. "How can you tell?" he asked.
"Feel the ground vibrating?"
"Yes I just thought it was Henry and Buddha trading off."
Even the twin devastations of Henry's and Buddha's flatulence could not compete with what was coming. By the feel of it at least two, maybe three of the Terexes were heading this way.
"Oh Dad." Justin said lamentedly as he grabbed his head.
Tommy had gone over to rub his back. He was performing the motion but his hand was a good
3 inches away from making contact.
"Shit, have you had your shot today?" I asked him.
"Completely spaced it out." he said miserably.
Doc went to the pack and gave him the shot. Within seconds Justin's demeanor changed.
"Any chance you have one of those for me?" Tommy asked.
Doc was unaware of the bipolar connection that Eliza and Tommy shared and answered in that manner.
"Afraid not Tommy, I don't think that you would like the side effects if this was administered to someone without the infection."
Tommy dejectedly sat back down. If the pain and pressure of Eliza's coming was affecting him, he was doing his best not to show it. Within a couple of minutes two of the formidable Terexes came into view. Whoever was driving them was oblivious to the fact that they were crushing zombies by the score. Mind you, I was in no rush to warn them of the harm they were doing but it was still only akin to scraping shit out of a port-a-pottie with a toothpick.
They were sitting about a half mile away and even at this distance they looked huge.
"What are they doing Dad?" Travis asked.
"She's sucking the spirit out of the Marines." Tommy said in an uncharacteristically sad tone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - JOURNAL ENTRY 16 -
It was an hour after dusk when the heavier of the ammunition dried up. There was the chatter of small arms fire and some pistols but anything resembling a stalwart defense had finally given way. Zombies mindlessly poured over their own dead. I'll give them this, not a one of those Marines ran. They stood their ground and fixed bayonets or pulled out their K-Bar knives. I thought just the spirit of those men as they fought to defend us and themselves could stem the tide. For a few minutes it did. But then one by one they fell to overwhelming odds. A knife can only go so far. I turned away as the sergeant below our window was torn limb from limb as hungry zombies devoured every morsel of him.
