Joseph Talluto - Taking It Back

“I didn’t think they would believe it, but they had no way of knowing they weren’t alone. Out here they were cut off and the preacher wouldn’t let them leave. He then told them that the day to get to heaven was here and he would help them along.”

The old man brushed an errant tear that had strayed down his cheek. “He led them here and gave them pills and prayed over them as they died as families. This town died from lack of hope. They had no hope.” The man’s reedy voice faded off.

I found it ironic that had the town just waited, we would have proven this preacher wrong on all counts.

“What happened to the preacher?” I was curious to see if the man had moved on or followed his own teachings.

The old man’s voice hardened. “I found him going through people’s homes, taking what he thought would be valuable. I gave him his reward.”

I didn’t ask what that was, already guessing the answer. I backed away from the old man and signaled Tommy and Charlie to head back to the truck. We trotted back to the vehicle and spun around as we heard a shot behind us. The old man’s body lay crumpled in the grass, his blood showing bright red on the brown landscape.

As I got into the vehicle, Charlie spoke up. “You knew he was going to shoot himself, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “He had nothing left to live for. Not even revenge.”

“Is what happened to this town why you keep going, why you keep trying to find people?” Charlie pressed, asking a more personal question than he had ever asked before.

I nodded again. “Think about it. If you figured there was nothing left to live for and the rest of your life was going to be a struggle just to survive, wouldn’t you trade that for a promise of salvation? If this life was over anyway, what would be the point? We’ll never have the lives we once had, but we can at least live. That’s our revenge against the dead. That’s how we drive back the nightmare. We make what we have left worth fighting for.”

Tommy spoke through the back window. “We gonna go back and see if there is anything worth bringing back to the community?”

I shook my head. “That place is dead. Worse than if it had been overrun by zombies. The soul of that town is dead. I don’t want anything from it.”

Charlie nodded and hit the gas, sending us on our way to Verona, the next town on the map. As I looked in the rear view mirror, I could have sworn for an instant I saw hundreds of people in the tracks behind us, watching us leave. When I blinked, they were gone. Ghosts, indeed.

We traveled down the rails, keeping an eye out for anything unusual, although finding something more unusual than the last town we visited would be a stretch. We plowed ahead and in short order came to the outskirts of Verona. It was easy to see the differences. Verona, while a small town, was ringed by a six-foot tall earthen hill, the dirt and clay being used from the ditch that was directly in front of the hill, making it a twelve-foot obstacle to any roaming dead. The hill had an opening for the railway, and I assumed others would be found where roads entered the town. Across the opening was a wooden door made from four by fours, hung on a frame that was set into the hill. I could see the door swung outward, so it would be doubly hard to break it down. The rail bed fell away into the ditch, so any attacking horde would only be able to hit the door one, maybe two at a time.

“Stop here,” I said to Charlie as we pulled closer. Put your rifle down and sit in the back of the bed,” I called over my shoulder to Tommy.

“What’s going on?” Tommy asked.

“Protocol.” “We have to wait for them to notice us and decide if they want to talk to us. If we stand around holding weapons, they might decide to shoot first. I’m not willing to get into a firefight without better cover than the windshield of this truck.”

Tommy grunted, but put his gun down and sat back where he could be seen. Charlie and I waited in the cab and after about ten minutes, two men with rifles crested the hill and waved us towards the gate. We pulled forward slowly and the gate opened as we passed through. On the other side, another man with a shotgun signaled us to stop. I could feel Charlie tensing beside me and I shook my hand at him, trying to calm him down. The gate closed behind us and I hoped everything was going to go well.

We were surrounded by at least ten men, all armed in some fashion. I tried to remain pokerfaced, but after a minute of silence, I was starting to inch my own hand towards my SIG, with my other hand getting ready to open the door. Beyond the armed men, I began to see a growing crowd of onlookers, curious as to who the newcomers were. No one was smiling and I was getting curious as to what the deal was.

A heavyset man in a brown jacket made his way through the crowd and stood in front of the truck. He stared at Charlie and me for a second then gestured for me to step outside.

I got out of the truck and stood a couple of feet from it. I was already calculating who I was going to shoot first if things went south and it was going to be the sorry looking bastard to my right who was standing too close pointing a rifle at my head. I glanced up at Tommy who gave me a slight nod. His rifle was likely near his hands and would be in action at the first sign of trouble.

The man in the brown jacket spoke. “Howdy. I’m Bob Larkin. Who might you fellas be?”

“I’m John Talon and these are my companions Charlie James and Tommy Carter. We’ve come from Coal City to see if any towns on this line were still alive. Obviously, you are,” I said, looking pointedly at the man holding his gun on me.

Bob nodded. “How’s Coal City doing? I haven’t heard from the sheriff in a while?”

“It lives, and Tom Harlan is fine.” I still didn’t take my eyes off the man next to me.

“Good enough. Put your gun up, Ed, these men are fine. Sheriff Harlan and I spoke over the radio this morning and he said to expect you three. He told me you three were bonified deader killers and we should be glad to know you. Just by appearances, I figured he ain’t too far off the mark.” Tensions suddenly erased and trigger fingers eased up.

I had to smile. ‘Deader’ was a new one to me, but it fit. Didn’t really matter what we called them, they were the enemy and that was it.

Bob Larkin and I spoke while the rest of the town was dismissed. The town basically had barricaded themselves when the first wave of ‘deaders’ came over the horizon and started attacking people. Bob, who was the head of the town council as well as being an insurance salesman, decided the best thing to do was to build a wall around the town, using what they had in abundance, which was dirt. The wall and ditch were very effective and I had to agree, since we were using the same approach in Leport.

Bob told me that essentially people here had gotten on with their lives. They were used to the fact that electricity might not be coming back for a while and if they wanted to make a life they are pretty much going to have to work together. Bob was happy to hear about Coal City making it through the invasion and after about an hour, I was ready to get moving.

I climbed aboard the truck and Charlie, Tommy and myself were rolling through Verona. We waved to the people we saw and they smiled and waved back, the news about us having traveled through the small town faster than modern communication could ever have hoped to achieve. Bob and I set up a communication network, using the rail line as the means of transporting news and items of trade. Bob said one of his friends was putting the finishing touches on a pedal-powered rail car, which would be used for the trade effort. I had some serious doubts about that, but kept them to myself.