Zombie Fallout 9 (11 page)

“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—”

“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.”

She stood and came over to me. “I get it, Mike. I do.” She caressed the side of my face and leaned in for a kiss, which I hungrily gave her. “But you don't have time to feel like this. These events were going to play out one way or the other. Who's to say what would have happened to those here had you not come? Their defenses were haphazard and weak at best. You've shown them hope in the face of overwhelming adversity, and they thank you for that. You are directly responsible for most of the lives in this place, not least of all, your family.” She began to count them off. “Me, your daughter and future grandbaby, Justin, Travis, that dog of yours, my mom, BT, Trip—”

I stopped her. “I get it.”

“Do you? All of them, every single one of them … us. We'd be gone.” She touched her hand to her heart. “We'd be dead now if not for you, Mike, for your heart and commitment, for your willingness to do whatever it takes to get us through. That's why we follow you. That's why we would do anything and everything you ask. We know it, and others can see it. The storm doesn't follow you; you are the storm. Nothing can stand in your way.”

I let her words sink in. “Wow those were some pretty powerful words. Now when you say you'll do anything….”

“I knew it. I knew when I said it that was where your focus would go.”

I wrapped her up in a hug.

“BT, though, isn't he too mean to die?”

“Possibly. I threw him in there to make you feel better.” Her head was nestled against my chest, and I loved the warmth that spread out from the contact.

T
he transition happened around me
. It went fairly smoothly. Half the group moved out, and supplies were sent their way. I took, maybe, my first healthy downtime in six months. I sat on the deck and just pretty much zoned out. Spent a lot of time looking at trees, and I have to be honest, it felt pretty damn good. Worry, which had been a constant gnawing in my gut, took a siesta, and for the first time in years, way before the zombies had come, I found an inner peace. Anger, anxiety, and a half dozen other negative emotions were laid to rest. I'd love to say permanently. Who wouldn't? But even the temporary situation was unparalleled, and I was basking in it. Nothing happened that day, that week, hell, that month. More than once, we'd talked about reuniting the two halves to make a whole.

All it took to nix that idea was a look over to Tommy, who oftentimes joined me on the deck. Although, whereas I looked like I was on a beach in the Bahamas, he seemed to be sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon on some sketchy ground. He would stand quickly for no reason and scan the tree line, sometimes sitting back down, sometimes walking around the entire deck seeking, searching. Most times, I could not tell if he was using his two eyes or the third. That makes more sense if you are into mysticism. He'd say a few words, I think Latin, and then abruptly leave. We had a few zombie encounters; that was to be expected considering that we now were in two places with constant traveling in between. We were sure to garner attention with all the extra activity and noise.

On one such trip, I was allowed to go. Tracy wanted to see her mom, and we both wanted to see Nicole, who was about to pop. Can't tell you how nerve-wracking that was. Having a baby was stressful enough, but due to current circumstances, this was going to be a natural birth, without the option of having a hospital as a safety net should something go wrong. And trust me, I'd read enough about it to know it was possible for plenty of things to go amiss, including the mother bleeding out and dying right on the table. I did not think I could handle something like that. I would become hollow inside. I was happy that Nancy had taken some mid-wife classes, once upon a time. She'd never used the knowledge in real life, but she was about to be baptized under fire, so to speak.