Mark Tufo - Alive in a Dead World

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“We were about three or four streets over,” Gary said.

“By the Fredericks’ house?” Josh asked, cutting through some hedges that had looked impenetrable.

“I don’t know; how would I know that?” Gary asked.

“Did you see a bright, bright blue house?” Josh said, extending his hands.

Gary couldn’t see how stretching your hands equated to brightness, but he went along. He thought for a few moments. He hadn’t really been taking in any qualities of the neighborhood. Houses, even garish ones, tend to become less important when one is looking for things that will possibly get them killed. “I don’t…wait, I think it was further up the street. I kept thinking that I hoped they got a good deal on the paint because it was pretty ugly.”

“Do we know where we’re going?” BT asked, clearly agitated.

“Yup.” Josh seemed to be reveling in this. He’d probably played this game a hundred times before, hiding from the enemy. It would have never been a real life scenario like it was now, but practice does have a way of making things perfect. Josh pulled two slats from the fence to the side so he could fit his slender form. BT ripped another five off to get through. Josh did not seem pleased, but he pressed on. Within a few minutes, they were assailed with the smell.

“This is the place.” Gary said.

“What gave it away?” BT asked, wanting to hold his nose.

Josh opened the gate from the homeowners’ backyard and was heading to the front when BT grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground.

“Hold on. Gary, go check,” BT said. “You’re the fastest at the moment,” he added when Gary passed on by.

“I think that honor goes to Josh, but I’ll check.”

“Any chance you’ll let me down now?” Josh asked, his legs kicking in the air.

“Do not go anywhere, unless it is back to your house,” BT said as he gently placed the boy on the ground.

Gary got up close to the side of the house and inched himself around, taking a quick peek. He immediately turned back to where Josh and BT were. “Send him home NOW!” Gary yelled as quietly as he could.

“Now, kid, go home! Do not turn around! Do you understand me!” BT yelled.

Gary had started firing his rifle. BT urged Josh in the opposite direction as he brought his rifle to the ready. He was wholly unprepared for what he witnessed as he turned the corner to stand side by side with Gary.

Michael was completely surrounded by zombies. His skin was the color of burnt hamburger and large curled flaps of skin were peeling away from his singed chest and shoulders. These were being torn off by zombies, struggling to get at the flesh. Michael was screaming as pink, oozing, tender flesh was exposed while the zombies tore off the blackened parts.

At least a dozen zombies were dropped by Gary’s and BT’s rifles fire before Mike’s attackers took any notice. At first, two or three went after the pair and were quickly dispatched, but as Michael went to his knees and then his face, the rest turned and went for the new meat.

Gary was dry firing, screaming in rage as the zombies approached. BT was afraid that Gary was going to go into berserk mode and just start swinging his rifle like a club. BT was getting low on ammo. “Let’s go, Gary.”

“He’s my brother!” Gary yelled, looking up at BT’s face with tears coming from his eyes.

“There’s nothing more we can do here.”

Gary took one final look back at his brother who had not moved since his head made impact with the pavement. He sobbed as he ran, tears so occluding his vision, he had to be guided by BT.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“What is the purpose of waiting here, sister? Now is the time to pull back and regroup. Michael is long gone now, yet we have wasted days here.”

“We have wasted nothing,” Eliza hissed. “While you have been having secret rendezvous’ with the enemy, I have been summoning a vast zombie army to destroy everything in our path toward getting Michael, starting with this little town.”

With Eliza’s human sympathizers out of the way, Tomas had hoped his sister would give up her foolish quest, or at least, postpone it. In the meantime, he had kept tabs on Michael when he could. His former father was getting good at disguising his presence. Mike had delivered a victorious blow, and for the life of him, Tomas could not figure out why the man had not collected his things and gone home. Even with the infection in BT, that should have only delayed him a day at the most. And now his sister was planning on bringing thousands upon thousands of zombies to this town.

“What do you hope to accomplish here?” Tomas asked his sister.

“Either you are still trying to cover for him or you are not as powerful as you imagine yourself to be, but Michael is still around. And even now, he uses his limited powers to save himself. If only he would fully reveal himself to me, I would finish him off myself.”

Tomas was taken aback, he had not known his sister realized Michael was still here, but what was more unsettling was he did not know Mike was in distress.

“Don’t be so confused, brother. I have blocked you from him. This is one battle the great and mighty Michael Talbot will need to finish on his own without any outside help.” Eliza laughed as Tomas tried desperately to get around whatever she had put in place to hinder his ability to talk to him.

Tomas could feel the psychic push of thousands of zombies as they closed the distance from their original locations to get to where their mistress beckoned as he extended his powers to try and encompass Mike.

“This is insanity, sister, he is gone from here.”

Eliza was still for a moment as if she were listening for a pin to drop on a faraway floor. “Perhaps you are right for once, little brother,” she said as she turned to walk away.

Tomas was relieved, maybe something could be salvaged out of this after all. Then the barrier that had been erected between Michael and himself crashed to the ground. Tomas nearly fell to his knees as he felt the screams of Michael, and then there was silence, soulless black silence. “What have you done, Eliza!?” Tomas screamed, chasing his sister down.

“I have done nothing, dear brother.”

“Why did you let me hear that and then cut it off again?” he demanded.

“I wanted you to hear that, but I most certainly did not cut it off at the end. That was the end. Michael Talbot is no more. He is no longer alive in a dead world!”

Prologue

Story takes place December, near Christmas 2009, written December 27 th2010.

Excerpt taken from a journal discovered in Vona, Colorado. Its location was a center console in a red Jeep Wrangler. The reader found the story humorous and decided to hold onto it, where it was finally paired together with the original writer’s works.

***

I’ve been feeling down as of late. We are on the run from zombies. This has not turned out to be the adventure I had hoped it would be. My hope was that I would make a lasting stand at my household with all my rifles, ammo, food and water. Yet, three weeks after the invasion I had been preparing for almost my entire life, my home has fallen into enemy hands. We’re cold, scared, and are draining through hope like a wino through Mad Dog 20/20. My ability to keep my family, friends, and to a lesser extent, our other traveling companions safe weighs heavily on me. My goal with these next lines is just an attempt to bring a smile in a deepening dark that is gathering.

In a time before there were zombies, we lived our lives like the vast amount of Americans in December. We overate, overspent and waited until the last minute to do our shopping around the holiday. This year was no different. I had just cashed my meager check this morning and my wife felt that we had to get a few more gifts for the kids.