Mark Tufo - Alive in a Dead World

“Josh, he’d understand. You were trying to do something good for someone else; you guys would rebuild it, that’s all, honey,” Mary said. She seemed to have correctly punched all the right buttons. Josh pulled back from her arms, wiping his tears away.

“I’ve got another car, Mr. Talbot, if you want to try again, that is,” he said to me.

“I would, Josh. My friend is out there and I’d like to find him.”

“I understand because if I knew where my dad was, I’d try to find him too,” Josh said, wiping his nose and extricating himself from Mary’s arms. “I’ll be right back,” he said, heading back upstairs.

Mary let out a half sob, half gasp. “I’m watching him grow up right before my eyes. Sometimes, he’ll always be my sweet six-year-old, and then sometimes like now, I can see the man that he is becoming.”

Gary finished cleaning up the carpet as Josh rummaged around in his room.

Josh came down the stairs with what looked like the monster truck version of a radio-controlled vehicle.

“Oh, honey are you sure?” Mary asked, placing her hand to her chest. “That was a Christmas present.”

“Mom, Hugo is the best chance Mr. Talbot has of getting to his friend.”

I gathered that Hugo was the name of the truck. “Josh, I don’t know how this is going to turn out.”

“He never does,” Gary added for good measure, coming back from the kitchen.

“I thought the peanut gallery was closed?” I said hotly.

“Boys,” Mary said, playing referee.

“It’s alright, Mr. Talbot. Maybe if you find your friend, then you could go and maybe find my dad.”

I looked over at Mary. I would be lying if I said anything but the truth of where I thought his father was.

“I know that look,” Josh said. “You don’t think my dad is alive. But he has to be! He wouldn’t have just left us, not now.”

“Josh, I will promise you this, if I can get to my friend and get back, I will go check out where you think your dad went.”

“Electronix Emporium,” Josh said quickly, now beaming. “No fooling? You’ll go check?”

“He’s a lot of things and many of them not good, Josh, but a liar isn’t one of them,” Gary said.

“Gotta love a good, back-handed compliment,” I told my brother.

He nodded his head in appreciation.

We moved to a different window on the same side of the house, one where we hoped there would be less zombies. We were right, but then we encountered our next situation - Hugo would not fit through the bars.

“It’s almost like it wasn’t meant to happen,” Gary said. “Like a sign, a bunch of signs.”

“Since when did you become a fortune teller?” I asked him sarcastically.

“Since my fortune got tied up in yours,” he answered quickly.

“As good a time as any, I suppose,” I told him.

“It’s only going to fit out the door,” Josh said, slamming the window down before we attracted any more visitors.

“I’d rather not open any doors,” Mary said.

“How were you planning on letting me out?” I asked.

“Hadn’t thought that far,” Mary said, as realization dawned on her that she really hadn’t gotten that far.

“See what happens when you’re around him for too long?” Gary asked sympathetically.

“Is that like his vampire psychic powers warping our mortal minds?” Josh asked expectantly.

“No, he’s always had this effect on people,” Gary said dryly.

Josh looked a little bummed that it wasn’t a supernatural cause that made those around me go crazy.

“Back door for the car, front door for me?” I asked the household.

“No,” Mary said without hesitation. “I will not have both of my doors opened simultaneously. You don’t even know if this will work. We put the car out, Josh sends it on its way and we see if they follow.”

I didn’t like the plan. At absolute best, the car had a hundred-yard range with Josh’s controller and then it would just stop. I needed a bunch of zombies to go and check this thing out and in a relatively small amount of time before the car hit its max threshold for signal-catching. I should have given the kid way more credit. He had a trick or two up his sleeve to give me the time I needed.

“How we looking?” I asked Gary and Josh, who were peeking out a window adjacent to the door.

“There’s a few milling around, but if you don’t stop to wash your hands or anything, you should be fine,” Gary said.

“You’re on fire tonight,” I told him.

He grinned back.

“You ready, Josh?” I asked.

He spun the wheels on the truck I was holding in response. The torque and the shock almost made me drop the thing. This time, I had secured the small bag of bait on the top of the car, careful to make sure that nothing hung down that could get hooked up in the wheels.

“This sucks,” I said right before pulling the door open. Zombie heads swiveled to the noise, food recognition dawning on their eyes as they began to forge ahead. I started to fumble with the security door, which was, I guess, out of my skill set because I couldn’t get the damn thing open. Mary rushed to my aid, undoing the lock and pushing the door open. I looked at her in gratitude.

“Put the damn car down!” she shouted at me, never taking her eyes off the advancing horde.

Josh already had the wheels turning as I placed it on the ground. The car shot from my hand as it made contact with the hard surface. A zombie slammed the door into my hand. I was sure I felt a couple of bones shatter as Mary wrenched me on my back, pulling me in. She quickly locked the screen door, and I scrambled out of the way as she hurriedly shut the front door.

My hand was already turning that bluish shade of pain and internal bleeding.

“You righty or lefty?” Mary asked, holding my hand.

“Righty,” I told her, “but I shoot leftie.”

Her face sank a little as she held my rapidly swelling left hand.

“I’ll be fine,” I told her. “I have wonderful recuperative powers.”

She looked at me funny; I did not feel the need to elaborate.

“Mike, your hand is broken,” she said, pushing her finger into the bluest part as if to prove her point.

“Yup,” I winced.

“Hey, they’re following it!” Josh stated exuberantly.

I figured I only had seconds before the car had traveled its furthest radio-receiving distance and then they’d turn their attention back to me.

“Wish me luck,” I said as I once again opened the front door. Hand Slammer was gone this time and I had, at least, learned something from Mary as I got the security door opened much more easily. I looked immediately to my right, expecting to see Hugo rapidly approaching maximum distance. All I saw were zombies who were heading towards the side of the house. I ducked my head back in, Josh and Gary had shifted to another window. The kid was brilliant. Instead of just taking the car and heading for maximum distance, he was dodging and weaving it through the zombies, thereby giving me way more time to get the hell out of here.

“Go,” Mary said, her eyes wide with fear. Partly because I had the front door to her house open and partly because I wasn’t moving yet.

I jumped down the three steps and started running in the direction I had last seen BT heading. As soon as I hit my stride, I began to doubt the validity of my entire plan. I’m all for “alone time” and the need for it, but somehow during a zombie-pocalypse doesn’t seem like the right time. Should I shout? There weren’t tons of zombies out, but I also didn’t want to change that status. By my reckoning, one zombie is one too many.

I skipped Mary’s neighbor’s house, and as I approached the next, I began to wonder if BT had maybe traveled through a backyard or two and maybe got on to another street. I mean, what then? He knew where we were, but I had no clue where he was. Why don’t I think this shit out before I act?