Mark Tufo - Alive in a Dead World

“There were not many options, my friend,” I told him.

“Don’t pull that ‘my friend’ shit with me!” he roared.

I hadn’t seen him this mad in a long time, if ever.

“He’s inside me!” he said thumping his fist against his chest.

“ It’s done,” Tomas intoned. “Do not contact me again.”

We’ll see , I answered him, but he was already gone.

“You don’t get it, BT, I had to ask for his help. I couldn’t hold them off indefinitely. While I’m thinking about it or while I’m conscious, it’s easy enough to keep telling the parasites to stay put. But I have no idea what happens if I sleep. And I love you, my friend, but I don’t always want to be within shouting distance, do you?” I asked throwing it back at him.

“Well, not really,” he answered, a small measure of anger dropping off.

“I guess I’d never have to worry about running out of toilet paper,” I told him.

“What are you talking about?” Gary asked.

“Because BT will always be around and if Mike runs out, BT will be able to hear him. Have you not been listening to the conversation?” Josh asked.

“So am I supposed to shoot him, Mike?” Gary asked me.

“I think he’s fine now.”

“How would you know that?” BT asked me suspiciously.

“Tomas is gone,” I told him.

“So how would you know if I’m good or not?” BT asked once again, threatening me with his finger.

I didn’t answer. I was hoping against all odds he would just drop it.

“Are you saying you can get in me too?!” His temper was beginning to flare again. “So what? I’m like a 7-Eleven? Always open?” BT was pacing around Mary’s small kitchen. He was running his hand across his head. “I don’t like this shit, Mike. Sorry, kid,” BT said to Josh. “I think I’d rather have Eliza rooting around in there. At least, I’d know what she was up to. You scare the shit out of me, man.”

“So you can like mind control him?” Josh asked, making his arms move like a robot.

“Really?” Gary asked, “Because there’s a few things I’d really love to see him do.”

“Nobody is making me do anything I don’t want to do, right?” BT asked, threatening to come over and smash my skull if I didn’t give him an immediate answer that completely meshed with his.

“I can’t control him,” I told Josh.

“Damn right, I’m uncontrollable,” BT said, crossing his arms.

“Okay, rebel, calm down, so I can finish cleaning you up,” Mary said. “We’re out of immediate danger, yes?” Mary asked, looking over towards me.

I nodded my answer, hoping that BT hadn’t picked it up. No such luck.

“What am I thinking now?” BT asked me.

“You’re thinking about how you’d like to pop my head off my bony body,” I told him.

He bounced up like a spring-loaded toy. “He can read my damn thoughts!” he yelled.

“Relax,” Mary laughed. “Even I could have read your thoughts about that.”

BT seemed to settle down as he finally sat. “How would you feel if you had a crazy Talbot running around in your head?” he asked her.

“Just so we’re clear,” Gary said, “he’s talking about Mike and not me.”

BT looked defeated or maybe just tired. I couldn’t really blame him either way. I couldn’t even begin to think about what he’d been through the last few hours.

“Mary, when he’s all cleaned up, could you find him a place to get some rest? If you don’t mind, I’d like for us to spend another night.”

She nodded, gratefully. I think she really liked having some company, someone who could take the pressure off her constant vigilance.

“What about the others?” Gary asked.

“They’re on their own for the moment.”

Chapter Fifteen – Mrs. Deneaux

Night was rapidly approaching. Mrs. Deneaux had removed Brian’s jacket, justifying her actions by saying that he was burning up and that she was chilled.

“He would have offered it to me himself, if he were awake,” she wrongfully assumed as she peeled the coat from his fever-racked body. The lines from his gut wound had grown a deeper crimson, almost violet red, and were now mere inches away from his heart.

“I knew he wouldn’t make it,” Mrs. Deneaux laughed as she realized she had just summed up the fate of both of the travelers she was with. Her plan was to wait out the night on the off chance that the twit, Paul, had found some medicine and had not become a casualty himself. When he didn’t show by morning, which she just knew would be the case, she would walk out and either find Michael or her own mode of transportation.

Mrs. Deneaux had no illusions. She had only survived this long because of the charity of others or at the very least, the indifference of them. She knew Brian was a lost cause, as was Paul, even if he showed up in the nick of time with medicine. Brian was in no shape to protect anyone, and to her, it seemed that Paul had survived along similar lines as her own, by the grace of others.

The night almost passed by uneventfully. She heard something going on maybe two or three streets over, but who and what it was were not discernible. She felt as if she had slept, but she couldn’t remember. Mostly she had stared at Brian and smoked cigarettes. With the moon still high in the sky, she found herself in the same spot and in the same position she had been when she had initially fallen asleep.

She had a small mountain of butts by her side, her exhaled smoke nearly obscuring her vision as she scanned the woods around her.

“Zombie,” she said, standing up and crushing her latest butt into the ground. She exhaled the blue-gray smoke. The zombie hadn’t quite locked onto their position.

“Must have smelled the smoke. My husband always said these would be the death of me. I can’t imagine he thought in this fashion though.” Mrs. Deneaux looked quickly down at Brian. He was on his own. She would not be able to move him and where to, anyway?

Mrs. Deneaux moved away from the small clearing and her smoldering pile of ash, to hide behind a fairly thick bush. The zombie was coming up on her left. If it kept its present course, it would run into her before getting to the clearing.

Mrs. Deneaux picked up a small stone. “No sense in both of us dying,” she said as she threw the rock at Brian. It landed a few inches from his face. He took no notice as he slept.

“Dammit,” she said, taking a peek from behind her cover. She picked up the only other thing within arm’s reach, a thick branch, it was about a foot long and six or seven inches around. She hurt her shoulder throwing it as hard as she could. Whether divine intervention or the luck of the devil, the branch struck Brian in the right cheek. His moans of surprise and pain changed the zombie’s angle of pursuit.

Brian stirred slightly, a red mark blooming on his face as he opened his eyes. Pain, confusion and recognition registered on his face as he looked straight across the clearing and could only see the eyes of a hiding Mrs. Deneaux. He tried to pull himself up, but completely lacked the energy.

“What is going on?” he scratched out of his fire-seared throat. Mrs. Deneaux held up her index finger to her lips. Brian could hear someone approaching. His initial hope was that it was Paul, but it made no sense that Deneaux would be hiding from him. Maybe she wanted to play a prank , he thought, but nobody in their right mind played those kinds of pranks anymore. You were more likely to end up with a bullet wound than a laugh.

Zombie or other people, not very likely to be a wild animal, at least not here. Brian’s vision focused on a stick that was no more than a few inches from his face. He felt and then realized the source of his initial pain, which caused him to awaken.