Mark Tufo - 'Til Death Do Us Part

“I’ll tell you what I don’t miss.”

She looked over at him.

“I don’t miss going a hundred and ten miles per hour.”

“You must have sucked your mama’s teets too long,” she said as she took a puff from her cigarette.

“I was bottle fed,” he replied, not able to think of anything else to say.

She ‘hurumphed’ and looked back to the open road that they needed to travel.

BT pulled up a few minutes later. He had a death grip on his handlebars and looked like a crash test dummy due to sitting so rigid in his seat.

“She’s fucking nuts,” Gary said to BT. “Please let me ride with you?”

“Did she almost crash?” BT asked, slowly getting off his bike.

Gary shook his head with a questioning look.

“I almost dumped twice. You’re better off with her.”

“She’s trying to beat the speed of sound, BT.”

“Is this love fest over?” Deneaux asked, throwing her butt to the side of the road. “We’ve got a lot of miles to roll and it looks like we might get some weather.”

“Can we maybe find something with four wheels?” Gary asked.

“And miss out on all this fun?” BT added as he rubbed blood back into his arms.

“We can find something for you two ladies, but I’m keeping this ride. Let’s go, bitch,” Mrs. Deneaux said to Gary.

“I don’t really appreciate that,” he said as he walked over towards her.

“It’s just an expression.” She smiled.

“Could you maybe at least keep me in sight this time?” BT asked as he reluctantly hopped back on his bike.

“I need gas,” was her reply as she started the bike up.

“How far is Maine from here?” Gary asked.

“Gotta be close to seven hundred miles,” BT told him. “And then another hundred and fifty or so to get to Ron’s.”

“At top speed we could make it in six and a half hours,” Deneaux said, staring at Gary trying to gauge his reaction.

Gary had no desire to do the math and figure out how fast they would be traveling. He once again wrapped his arms around her waist, fearful he might break her in half, then he would be ‘ghost’ riding a ‘murder cycle’. And that wouldn’t do…not at all.

Somewhat true to her word, Deneaux kept her speed down to a semi-suicidal rate somewhere in the mid-seventies. BT was sort of keeping pace as he pushed his bike to a speed right outside his comfort zone of sixty.

“Fucking old bat,” he said as another bug slammed into the side of his face. “Who in their right mind would want to ride one of these things?” Shit Mike must have been a world class rider. BT grinned at the thought. “I miss you, man,” BT said, stealing a quick glance upwards. “I hope you made it there.”

Deneaux would slow down as they approached cars on the side of the road, Gary checked out more than a few, looking for ones that weren’t battle damaged or had gas and keys handy. It was the only thing keeping them from losing BT again.

“Stop stalling or I’ll smoke while I’m riding,” Deneaux threatened.

“I’m not stalling, I’m looking carefully,” Gary told her.

“I see you repeatedly looking back for your boyfriend. He’ll catch up. Come on, I think I see a traffic jam up ahead, I’m sure there’ll be something that you two girly men will be able to use, maybe a mini-van or a Prius.”

“Fine,” Gary said reluctantly.

Within a few minutes they were up by a snarl of cars that was L.A. worthy.

“What happened?” Gary asked as he got slowly off the bike.

A snarky comment was on Deneaux’s lips, but even she was lost in the devastation that was Route 22.

Even with the motorcycles it was going to be difficult to get around the carnage. Mrs. Deneaux brought the bike to halt at the outer-most edge of the debris field. She stood up to get a better view, shielding her eyes as she tried her best to see the end. She was not successful.

Gary got off the back; his legs were weak partly from Deneaux’s excessive speed, but mostly from the devastation in front of them. “It must go for miles,” he said flatly.

“I would think you’d be able to find a car that would suit your needs in there.” Deneaux motioned with her hand as she grabbed a cigarette from her saddle bag.

“This doesn’t affect you?” Gary asked incredulously.

“What? I’m smoking a cigarette aren’t I?”

“These were people with hopes and dreams.”

“What would you like me to say, Gary? I don’t have any words of comfort for you, I didn’t know them.”

“And if you did?”

“Probably still wouldn’t care.” She took another drag. “You’re going in there?” she asked as Gary stepped closer to the disaster.

“Yes.”

“Then you might want to take your rifle off your back.”

Gary’s hands were trembling as he pulled on the sling to take the gun off his shoulder.

“Is the safety off?”

“Of course it is!” he said hotly. He quietly moved the selector button to ‘OFF’ hoping Deneaux didn’t hear. Gary was twenty or so feet into the wreckage when he began to hear the comforting roar of BT’s bike approaching.

A few moments later, BT shut his bike down and dismounted. “Wait up, Gary, I’ll come with you.”

“He has been.” Mrs. Deneaux said.

“What?” BT said as he took his rifle out of the special side mount built into the bike.

“If he went any slower, I’d be able to watch him age.”

BT checked his magazine and quickly caught up to Gary. “What the hell happened here?” BT asked Gary as they walked past a burned out pick-up truck.

“I don’t know, but whatever it was it involved the military. I’ve seen a few dead soldiers around.”

It was difficult to get an accurate picture of what had happened. What had not been burned to a crisp had been devoured by zombies and/or animals; and what was left after that had been picked through by survivors. The only thing that could be easily discerned was that a great battle had been waged here. Thousands of zombies littered the far side of the road, the highway itself, and the beltway between the east and west routes. Not including the ones that were interspersed with the cars on this side of the roadway. Between dead bodies, zombies, and twisted metal, there was not a whole lot of room left for the trio to continue their journey.

“I don’t like this at all, Gary,” BT said as he stood up from the car he was looking inside. He tried his best to not think of the empty child seat.

“Should we go back and find another route?”

“And that’s a problem, we go back and we run the risk of running back into Q-Ball and a few of his best friends. I look at that and all I can see is ambush. That would be all your brother’s fault by the way.”

Gary smiled. “So I guess we’re going forward?”

“The devil we don’t know in this case is better than the one we do know.”

“Should we keep looking for a car?”

“Won’t do any good if we find one here.”

“You’re right,” Gary said. They couldn’t take two steps without dodging something; anything less than a city plow would only get mired in the devastation.

“Let’s go back. I want to be clear of this place before nightfall,” BT said.

Two shots from Deneaux’s direction hastened their pace.

“Sorry,” Deneaux said a little unnerved. “I was enjoying the sun and dozed off a bit. A zombie grabbed my ankle. If it had bit first I’d be a zombie waiting to happen.”

A soldier zombie with crushed legs had crawled over to Deneaux; its outstretched hand had sought purchase on her leg before she put two rounds through its skull. BT still hadn’t made up his mind if he would have been upset or not if the zombie had succeeded in its mission.