Kirk Allmond - What Zombies Fear - A Father's Quest

One of the things that has developed over time is the instinctual understanding of how the others on our team work. I didn’t have to issue direct orders to them, and really I didn’t like to. They were my partners, not my subordinates. Bookbinder would have a fit about that, but I just wasn’t in a position to give orders to them.

Every time I glanced over at Sanders he was staring right at me. His aura bounced quickly between purple and black. Not black like zombies; which is more of an ‘empty’ or ‘lack’ of aura, but black that blocked out what was behind it. It really weirded me out. He was shifting from foot to foot, and reaching behind his back every few seconds. I spent most of my time looking at the people I was talking to. I really did need to focus on them some too, they’d remember this speech and these moments afterward for a while to come, and I didn’t want to give them the opinion that I was disingenuous.

I shook hands with a man about five feet away from Sanders, he clapped me on the back as he told me his name was George Spencer, and that he was a high school gym teacher. He thanked me for saving his family as we shook. I think those words of thanks set Sanders off. His aura went deep black and he reached behind his back and pulled out what can only be described as a hand cannon, a Desert Eagle .50 caliber pistol that looked absolutely massive in his hand. Looking at the barrel, the hole at the end looked to be the size of a quarter.

Still holding Georges hand from our handshake, I used that to pull him out of the way, so it was just me and Sanders. I threw my hands up palms out.

“Ken, Ken Sanders, right?”

“How do you know my name? You don’t know anything. You saved everyone else, you’re the big hero, making speeches and everyone loves you. But you didn’t save everyone. You failed. I trusted you; I put down my gun and trusted you when you said you’d save my family. I should have shot you and let the zombies have you. I should have done what they wanted; then my family would be alive.”

As he spoke, he was waiving his gun around. The crowd was starting to panic.

“Whoa, Ken. Keep the gun on me. I’m the one you’re angry with.” I said as I took a step forward. “Ken, I’m not a hero. I’m just a guy who lost his wife, and is trying to keep the last family I have alive. I know you’re hurting, but this isn’t the answer. I didn’t save your family, and I’ll be sorry about that for the rest of my life, Ken.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” said Ken, as he firmed his grip on the gun.

“Ken, you’re not a killer. I’m a living, breathing person. I’m not a zombie; I’m a living human being.” I stepped forward again. Now I was about two feet away from the barrel of the monstrous gun.

“You got my wife killed, and now I’m going to kill you!” He yelled, the gun shaking in his hand. A shadow finger crossed over the trigger and squeezed to fire the gun. That finger solidified, and I watched his finger cover the trigger. Shadows shot out of me, in one I side stepped him, as he fired, and the bullet decimated a small child standing a dozen feet behind me. I saw the hammer cock back on the gun, and heard the shot.

I tried zagging the other way, and this time it was a very tall man who took the shot to the gut. I tried kicking his legs out from under him, the bullet flew wild and hit my mother in the cheek. Every course of action I tried ended up with someone dying. Given those options, I steeled myself. My life was no more important than any other. I readied myself for the pain; I raised my arms, making myself as easy a target as possible. I took a deep breath as his finger squeezed the trigger. The hammer cocked back, I heard the shot. A searing pain hit my face.

When I opened my eyes, Sanders was looking at the shattered gun in his hand with a look of shock on his face. The tip of the barrel was crushed inward from the side, and John was running towards us. Leo appeared behind him out of nowhere and twisted his arms behind his back.

“Tookes, you okay?” yelled John.

“Yeah. Face hurts,” I said. Which actually wasn’t true, it had dulled to a slight burn.

“Sorry about that, mate. I’ve never tried to shoot a bullet out of the air before. I didn’t expect it to shatter like that. I guess my bullet ricocheted into the barrel when his bullet shattered.”

“John, you shot the bullet out of the air? Why didn’t you just shoot his gun out of his hands? And could you have at least stopped running when you fired?” I asked.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He asked with a twinkle in his eye and the barest hint of a smile.

I walked off leading Sanders to the old kitchen. I had been overconfident in my own abilities, and that almost got me killed. Without my friends, I was dead. That lesson will stick with me for as long as I live.

Once we were in the old summer kitchen building, I sat Sanders down in a chair.

“Ken. Now what am I going to do with you? There are no courts. There are no police to call. I’m not going to kill you, but I can’t have you trying to kill me. If you’re a danger to these people, I can’t have you here, but turning you out without a weapon is the same as killing you.”

“Tookes, just kill me. I don’t want to live. Without my family, I have nothing. Their blood is on your hands.”

“Ken I tried as hard as I could to save every family there. Your family was gone by the time I got there. I killed all of the zombies responsible, but they were following orders from someone. That’s who you should be angry at. I’m sorry your family is dead. Everyone here has lost someone they love. There is nothing I can do to bring them back. But I can avenge them. I can avenge my wife, and you can help me avenge your family. I need every man I can get, Sanders. I need you, I need your help. I need you on my side; I need your help to kill every one of them.”

“What do you want me to do? You’ll never trust me!” Ken replied.

“Ken, if you give me your word, if you tell me that you’re going to help me avenge your family, if you swear to me that you’ll never kill a human, unless your own life or the life of someone in this camp depends on it, I’ll take your word for it. If you give me your word as a father, as a husband and as a son, I’m willing to forget about today.”

“Tookes!” exclaimed John. “You let this dude go; he’s going to try it again. You can’t trust him.”

“What choice do I have, John? All a man has these days is his word. Ken knows that. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“A second chance to kill you!” said Leo. “Tookes, this is madness. Turn him out.”

“We can’t do that. It’s not right. It’s my life he tried to take, and this is my decision. Ken, if you’re willing to give me your word, we can put this behind us.”

“I’m not willing to do that.” said Ken flatly, just before he pulled a long knife from his boot and lunged at my throat.

32. Daycare

I’d watched Sanders form this plan; he thought first about going for a gut shot, I presume because it would hurt. An interesting thing about those who can’t see the outcome of their decisions, they seldom consider more than one. As soon as I saw the shadow of choice fly out of him, I figured out my counter move.

As he lunged, I stepped forward and to the left, pinning his knife arm between my left arm and body, I then spun around to my right, breaking his arm. That was the part I saw in my decision. I could not however, see that Leo was going to rush in at the last second and smash Sanders in the head with a baton. I don’t suppose I could blame her. When she hit him, he collapsed against me, right as I folded his broken arm completely on itself. The knife, still held in his useless arm slid easily into his throat as he fell. He looked at me with sad eyes as he laid on the floor bleeding out. I jumped down beside him, unsure if I should pull the knife out or leave it. What do you do in that type of situation? Ultimately, I sat there feeling useless as he died.