Mark Tufo - 'Til Death Do Us Part

“We’re not done here,” Tracy told BT.

“Not by a long shot,” BT told her as he pulled on the waistband of his pants. “Thanks for saving me,” he said quietly as he walked past.

I just laughed.

One more time I half-heartedly tried to convince Tracy not to come; almost immediately the finger of doom came out and I yielded.

We were huddled by the basement door waiting for Mad Jack to dial up some zombie despair. Beads of sweat were glistening on Tracy’s forehead, BT had a look of consternation on his face, and I had just swallowed a live knot of garter snakes—at least that was what my belly felt like. I had not a lick of concern for myself, it was spread out for my two traveling companions.

“What some gum?” Gary asked, his mouth stuffed to near jaw-bursting proportions. He walked over to us extending a giant pack of bubble gum.

The idea of chewing anything that didn’t start with Alka was making the writhing things in my stomach start a gymnastic routine. “I’m good,” I told him.

“Oops, wait,” Gary said as he listened to the crackling in his two way radio. “T-minus ten seconds until operation Zombie Nudge.”

“Zombie Nudge?” BT lipped to me.

“Who knows,” I told him back.

“Does anyone know what the ‘T’ stands for?” Gary asked.

Over the radio I could hear Mad Jack’s explanation. “Ballistic equations begin with the variable ‘t’ minus the rest of the algebraic equation which accounts for time and distance.”

“Well now I can die in peace,” BT said.

“Now?” Tracy asked. “This is the time you want to use that phrasing?”

“No shit,” I told him. “Pretty fucking insensitive, BT.” I chided him.

“Bullshit, Talbot, that’s something you would normally say. I must have just been channeling you or something,” BT snapped back. “And now I’m going into battle with a man with a tinfoil hat on and you’re giving me shit? That’s like the skunk calling the wet dog smelly!”

“What the fuck does that even mean, BT? Have you lost your damn mind?” I asked.

“I must have!” he shouted.

“Boys!” Tracy said.

“What?” we asked, turning on her.

Gary popped an over-sized bubble. “Mad Jack turned the dial.”

That stopped us right quick. I opened the basement door to take a peek outside. Not much was happening; the zombies closest to us were trying their best to not become impaled in the trench from the push behind them of newcomers. Then I began to see a sudden change as they went from holding their spot to shuffling backwards, and within a matter of seconds, they were in a full on ‘retreat’ mode.

I had not a clue how we were going to get through the cluster fuck of zombies, all the closest ones were running to get out of range while the others behind were still forging forward and then there were the multitudes that were caught in the crossfire. Zombies by the dozens were being destroyed or irreparably damaged as they were caught within the vise like grips, of the outflow and influx as they in turn also tried to escape the invisible signal that was washing over them.

“Not going to get any better than this,” I said as I swung the door open.

Tracy gasped at the scene before her, the screams that would be ensuing would have been deafening if they were still people, even so the cracking of bones and cartilage was disturbing maybe even more so because it was done in silence.

“Good luck, I’ll save you some gum,” Gary said as we ran to the right and towards the back of the house and the small footbridge. Gary closed the door and I could hear him engage the fortress-like steel bar across the door.

I couldn’t see any of the guards from our vantage point, but I had to have confidence in the fact that they would be fleeing their posts. Vial or not, zombies running at you tends to loosen bladders and bowels. Our progress was hampered by the jumble of zombies strewn around the yard by the time we reached the trailing edge of the zombies still closest to the house we had in the neighborhood of fifteen seconds before the box fried itself.

The tree line was easily within distance with nothing in our way, fighting through the zombies was going to make it close. Once the box stopped broadcasting the zombies would again turn and head for the house, we would be caught and in a world of hurt, much like the plethora of zombies littering the ground.

“BT, we need to make a hole,” I said pointing towards the nearest large oak. In all fairness by ‘we’ I meant him. He attacked the zombies with gusto, crushing over them like a fat mom does dieticians. I had no sooner touched bark on the tree when zombies in mid-stride changed their direction heading back from where we had come.

“Good luck Gary,” BT said under his breath, his chest heaving from the exertion of zombie tackling as he leaned against the tree looking back at the house that was about to become besieged.

Zombies were within inches as they streamed past, a few took a quick glance at us as they ran by, but they seemed to be so used to the vials they wouldn’t investigate any further.

I motioned to BT and Tracy that I was going to move around the tree. BT acknowledged me; Tracy I had to touch to get her to focus on me and not the shamble of zombies close by. I stayed tight to the trunk of the tree. I figured BT and Tracy were following. I don’t know which of us was more surprised me or the guard when I came around the other side of the tree. He had been scratching his head, I would imagine at the peculiar behavior of the zombies when I showed up.

My rifle had been up against my chest, I would not be able to pull far enough away to use it anyway, the knife strapped to my thigh seemed the best course of action. That was up until BT came over the other side. I winced as BT’s butt stock made bone crushing contact with the side of the man’s skull. His eyes didn’t even have enough time to roll back in his head as he fell over.

“Thanks, man,” I told BT. “Hold Tracy back for a sec would you?” I asked as I leaned down. Blood was oozing from the side of the man’s head as I reached down and yanked the vial off his neck. I stuck the chain in my pocket, then grabbed the man by the waistline and the back of his collar, when a slight break came in the zombie traffic I tossed him a few feet into the fray. He moaned for a few heartbeats as the zombies made short work of him.

BT gave Tracy the all clear sign when the zombies closed the gap around the man.

“Why the delay?” she asked, looking around.

“Mike ripped one, I waited until it cleared away.”

“Thank you for that,” Tracy said, placing her hand on BT’s arm.

I flipped him off.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

The Bulkers

“Yes, Eliza, that’s what my man reported. He said the zombies started running away from the house and then started running towards it and now they are right up against it. I bet whatever they were using had a power surge, then blew,” Kong said to Eliza. He felt bad; he had hoped that the Talbots might make it through. If something as evil as Eliza wanted them destroyed then they must have walked strongly in the light. The world needed more people like them if it was ever going to recover, and now he was on the opposing force. If there ever was a history, how would he be remembered? I’m the fucking Benedict Arnold of the zombie apocalypse , he thought sourly.

“Release the contents of truck fifteen,” Eliza said as Kong wrapped up.

He wanted to question the validity of her plan, but as long as it didn’t involve his men, he thought discretion was the better part of valor. He might not be able to save the Talbots, but he would do all he could to save the people that he called his friends and co-workers.