End of the Road (9 page)

Melissa, my beautiful wife, had the maternal
instincts that all great mothers possess. She defended her child at
the cost of her own life. I ran out to help, but I was too late. I
heard the screams but I never actually saw her get bit. I made it
in time to decapitate the son of a bitch that bit my wife, but it
didn’t matter anymore. My angel would pass through the stages of
hell on her way to death and then, eventually, to undeath. I was
with her when she died and I told her how much I loved her. When
she came back, I held her down as she tried to bite me and muttered
a final “I’m sorry.” After I had my children leave the room, I put
a bullet in Melissa’s skull.

That day took the last of my strength. I was
pretty much useless for the next few days. I couldn’t cope with the
fact that I had to shoot the woman I had loved since the moment I
saw her. Melody needed a strong father to tell her that it wasn’t
her fault and help her deal with her pain. My son, Jake, needed
someone to show him how a man keeps things together in impossible
situations. I failed at both roles. That pretty much brings you up
to speed on our situation.

“Dad, I’m making a run. We’re low on
food.”

“Take your sister and make sure you pack
enough weapons.”

“Melody hasn’t said anything since she threw
her phone at the wall three days ago. I don’t think she’ll go on a
food run right now. I’ll be fine by myself.”

“Take Lucian then. He’s been getting pretty
wound up.”

Lucian was the family dog. He was an
Australian Shepherd that we got as a puppy from a ranch a few years
ago. He was a perfect guard dog because he would bark out warnings
if he saw zombies approaching and attack if he saw anything on its
way to threaten my family. The dog just got so hyperactive when we
had to stay inside for long periods of time. I was tired of him
running around the house.

Jake put Lucian on his leash and got in the
family’s Ford Taurus with a bat, a machete, a Glock, and enough
ammo to put down an entire block’s worth of zombies. I felt bad
sending my son out there alone, but the outside world just hurt too
damn much for me to do anything about it. After I heard Jake pull
out of the driveway and head towards the local Wal-Mart, I decided
it was time to go talk to Melody. I ate a quick lunch and then
prepared myself. I didn’t expect much; I just hoped I could get her
talking again.

“Melody?”

No answer. I opened the door and let myself
in. Melody was quietly sobbing on her bed with her arms hugging her
knees. I saw her iPhone in several pieces in the corner of the
room. It looked like she threw it against the wall and then
proceeded to beat the hell out of the thing.

“Mind if I sit down?”

No response. I sat on the end of her
bed.

“Look, honey. It wasn’t your fault. What
happened to your mom is on me. I should have scouted the area
better. I’ll be more careful in the future and we…”

Words can be such bastards sometimes.
Sometimes if you just start talking, emotion will hit you and the
words just freeze up. Not this time. I needed to be a father.

“…
We won’t lose anyone
again. I’ll keep you and Jake safe even if I have to go down
fighting.”

I was looking at the floor so I didn’t see
when she looked up. She put her arms around my neck.

“Dad, I can’t lose you too. Not after…”

She broke down and started crying. I
returned the hug.

“It’s ok sweetie. Everything is going to
be…”

My sentence was cut short by a loud barking
from outside. Lucian was warning me that something bad was about to
happen. I grabbed a baseball bat on the way down the stairs and
then ran out the front door. Jake was on the ground next to several
bags of spilled groceries. A zombie had grabbed on to his shoes and
was trying to reach up for the bite. Jake’s frantic kicking kept
the gnashing mouth at bay, but his gun was a few inches out of the
reach of his hand. I ran to him and kicked the zombie square in the
jaw and followed it up with a crushing blow from the baseball bat.
Brains splattered everywhere and the zombie finally loosened his
grip on my son’s shoes.

“Jake, are you alright? Did he bite
you?”

“No. I’m fine, Dad. He just… caught me off
guard. It won’t happen again.”

I saw that the zombies had heard the noise
we made in the streets and they were all slowly making their way
towards us.

“Get the groceries and get in the
house.”

Jake looked at me like I was insane.

“You’re coming too, right?”

It was time to be a father.

“Do what I said. Get in the house and lock
the door. I’m going to clean up this mess.”

“Dad, you’re being insane. You’re an
exterminator, not a ninja.”

I grinned at him.

“Well I don’t really care at this point.
Pests. Pestilence. What’s the difference really?”

Jake gathered up the groceries and, for once
in his life, did what I asked. Shortly after he made it inside, I
saw my sniper rifle peek out of a gap in the boards on the front
window. Jake was going to have my back and, from the noise I heard
coming from my dog, so was Lucian. I had just been promoted to
zombie exterminator and it was time to punch in. I could already
feel my adrenaline pumping.

The first zombie to make it to our driveway
was our old mailman. He was still in uniform and everything. A
machete stab through his face was my way of saying “Return to
Sender.” The next one to make it to my yard was my old neighbor,
Bill. Before all of this, we constantly fought over the property
line. I guess nothing had really changed because he was still
willing to kill me in my front yard. Lucian bit his leg. I sheathed
my machete in my belt and took a wild swing with the baseball bat
at this head. I hate to admit it, but the crunching noise was
pretty satisfying. I followed it up with a powerful swing that sent
his head sailing into the air.

I pulled the Glock from my belt and started
firing off rounds into the approaching horde. Neighbors,
acquaintances, and people I had never met before. All went down
with a bullet to the brain. Jake shot a few of the stragglers as I
dealt with the approaching main group. Once we had thinned out the
herd, I grabbed my machete and went in swinging and chopping like a
maniac.

After about half an hour, the street went
silent. I had won. I had reclaimed my neighborhood for my family. I
turned and waved at the window with a triumphant grin. It was then
that I felt teeth tearing into my ankle. I let out a horrible
scream and tried to grab for my gun, but I couldn’t function under
the pain. The zombie followed it up with a second bite to my calf.
I was ready to give up and die but the zombie fell over on the
ground and started leaking blood through a hole that appeared right
between his eyes. The door flew open and Jake and Melody ran to me.
Melody was crying hysterically.

“That was some nice shooting, Jake.”

“We need to chop off your leg, Dad. Now. We
can still get you through this.”

“Couple of problems with that, son. We only
have machetes and they won’t get through the bone. If you did,
somehow, get my leg off in time, I would die from the blood
loss.”

“What do I do then?”

Jake was trying his best to hold back his
tears. My son, an eighteen-year old kid trying to be a man for his
dad and his sister. I can’t even begin to describe how proud I was
that he was my son.

“Well maybe you could help me figure
something out.”

“What’s that?”

“I know it wasn’t a home run, but did Bill’s
head fly far enough for at least a ground rule double?”

Jake smirked and tried to hold back his
laughter. Melody’s eyebrows arched down in a frown.

“Baseball jokes, Dad? Not funny. We need to
figure out how to make you better.”

“Jake needs to shoot me in the head.”

“Not gonna happen, Dad.”

“It’s the only option at this point. I can
feel the disease spreading up my leg. It won’t be long. I have some
things to say to both of you before all that though.”

Jake looked like he had wanted this talk
from me for a long time. He was ready to step up and be the man.
Melody still looked pissed off, but watching her be angry at me was
so much easier than watching her cry.

“Jake, your shooting just now was amazing.
Some of the best sniping I’ve ever seen. You took out dozens of
zombies. I need you to keep Lucian with you whenever you make runs.
He’s the most useful dog this apocalypse has ever seen. Keep your
sister safe.”

I thought for a moment longer while Jake
gave me a serious nod.

“One more thing, Jake. That shot that took
down the…”

The pain was horrible. How I was able to
finish talking to my children is beyond me. It must have been all
the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I could feel the
sickness had made it up to my stomach.

“That shot that took down the zombie that
bit me was the best shot I’ve ever seen in my life. Right between
the eyes on a moving target. Amazing.”

“That last one wasn’t me.”

Tears started rolling down Melody’s cheeks
again. I looked at her and realized that she also had one of my
rifles in her hands.

“I did it, Dad. I wasn’t going to let them
take you like I let them take our mom.”

“Come here, Melody.”

I mustered the strength to reach up and hug
her as she sobbed.

“Baby that was amazing.
Your mom would be so proud of you.
I’m
so proud of you. You gave me the
greatest gift any parent can receive from their child, a chance to
say goodbye at the end of the road.”

She pulled away from the hug and looked at
me very seriously.

“Dad, I need you to know something.”

“What’s that?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Melody. I love you both…
more than I can say.”

“Can you do something for me?”

“Yes.”

“When you get to heaven, please tell mom
that I love her too.”

Jake put his hands on Melody’s shoulder and
she backed away. He took careful aim and put a bullet right between
my eyes. The last thing I saw in this life was my two kids… and I
couldn’t have wished for a better way to leave.

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Chapter 9

The Last Hours of Brandon
Kratz

By James Rozoff

The trail of corpses will lead them here.
They’ll find their killer, they always do. But the reign of terror
made it worthwhile, a few days of carnage that had the entire
country glued to their television sets wondering how long it would
last. And though it will all end at the cabin up ahead, the world
will not soon forget the name of Brandon Kratz.

The cabin cannot be too far now, I know
these woods too well to be mistaken.

They will find their man, but they’ll never
find the answers they’re looking for. They’ll never understand how
a seemingly loving family man could have killed his wife and
children and fed them to the neighbor’s dogs. They’ll never
understand how a person who looked so normal could be capable of
such evil. Sure, there’s the rambling manifesto they found on
Facebook, but that will serve more to disturb than enlighten.
They’ll talk to the neighbors and relatives, who will tell them
what a friendly and helpful person Brandon Kratz had always been.
But these answers are not the ones that will help them sleep
soundly at night. These are answers that only serve the festering
doubt and fear that will linger in their minds and hearts.

What they want is to think that there is
something that separates unfeeling, uncaring killers from the rest
of society, some distinction that they can make and so separate the
horror from their own lives. But they will find no answers because
there are none, at least not the kind that bring comfort. Many
murderers have given their explanations for what they have done,
but the average person is unwilling to accept the truth of such
explanations. They want rational reasons and are unwilling to cross
into the territory of insanity, which is where all the real answers
lie. They like to believe in a rational world, but they are too
cowardly to embrace the truth that the world is the better part
irrational.

I continue on my way towards my final
destination, keeping to the woods and shadows in case the
helicopters come. There is a determination in my stride, and I will
myself to confidence regarding the direction I take. There really
is no point in doubting myself now.

Would you like my truth? I have done what I
did because I am God to myself. Perhaps you feel the same way too:
frankly, I don’t care. I only know that there is no reason not to
take what I want, do what I want. I see no reason to care about a
world that is outside of myself. What good is it if it is not there
for my pleasure? I don’t care about you, nor would I ask you to
care about me.

Ah, but you do care, don’t you? You and
everybody in Southern California are very concerned about me,
concerned that I am out there, somewhere, unchained by the laws of
society. You will not rest soundly until Brandon Kratz is captured
or dead. Have no fear, you will get your wish soon enough.

I estimate I have about a fifteen minute
walk yet. The going is slower than I anticipated. But I cannot come
up short now, not when I am so close to the end.

The life of a serial killer is brief but
thrilling. I am like a force of nature that tears through a
neighborhood, a city, the countryside. Like an approaching tornado,
a community forgets about their normal lives and activities. I am
the one concern. I am the center of the universe, mine and theirs.
And for a brief time, I am the only thing that exists, the only
thing that matters. Ayn Rand grasped merely a portion of the truth.
If self-interest is the highest good, why stop at pursuing my own
ends, why not bend all others to my own desires? Why not have the
universe exist for me?