Mark Tufo - The End Has Come and Gone

"Brian!" I shouted again to stop him from completely extracting himself from the cab’s window. I pointed my ringer over my shoulder right at him. “Do not EVER say that I did not give you fair warning.” He laughed. Travis closed the window as Brian got his head out.

"I don’t think he gets it, Mike,” Gary said seriously.

"He's gonna shoot me when he does.”

"I've got a feeling it'll be Cindy you have to worry about,” Gary warned, turning back from looking at the passengers in the truck bed.

"She does look like she knows how to use that thing, Dad,” Travis piped in.

"Just tell me when we get to the exit and feel free to keep your opinions to yourselves,” I told them. Of course they wouldn’t listen but I might get at least a ten minute respite.

It ended up being more like five.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE – Tracy and BT

BT was looking at the grass causeway as Tracy hurtled down I-95. He barely registered the spike strips as they passed by his field of vision.

"Zombies,” Tracy said flatly a few minutes later.

BT pulled his field of vision in and looked straight ahead. Thirty or so zombies were running full tilt down the highway in the same direction. They nearly took up the entire width of the roadway. Tracy slowed the car down.

"Whatcha doing, Auntie?" Meredith asked.

"Was thinking of going over the grass and just avoiding them,” Tracy responded.

"Do you think they're following Mike? We could be pretty close,” BT said.

"We could roll on up on them and ask,” Meredith grinned.

"I hate Talbots,” BT murmured under his breath.

"There's no reason to fight them, right?" Tracy asked.

"Besides ridding the world of them, no, not right now anyway,” BT answered her.

Tracy drove over the grass in the median, the car bouncing around on the rough ground.

"I like where God put my kidneys, woman,” BT said, bracing himself with one hand on the roof and one on the door.

"He really is kind of a big baby, isn’t he Auntie?" Meredith asked, needling BT.

Tracy laughed as she got to the edge of the roadway and looked both ways for traffic before she pulled out.

"Don’t say it BT,” Tracy said pointing her finger at him, “It's a habit!"

“How many times have you crossed a highway median?” BT asked.

The zombies turned as one when they heard Tracy's car coming down the roadway. Without hesitation they began to run directly at her.

"Good thing they don’t have the concept of cutting us off or this would be close,” BT said, once again bracing himself.

The zombies were running to where the car was, not where it was going to be. They had to keep readjusting their trajectory as Tracy pressed even harder down on the accelerator, the zombies were losing crucial fragments of time during each repositioning. Tracy blew past them somewhere in the neighborhood of 90 mph. The zombies fell back in line, full on sprinting after their retreating prey.

"I hate zombies Tracy, I really do, but you know what scares me more?" BT asked a leading question.

Tracy turned to look, full seconds elapsing as she waited for a response. Icy beads of sweat fell from BT's forehead.

" You driving at high speed, dammit , look at the road!" BT yelled as he kept pumping on brakes that he did not have access to.

Tracy turned back to the roadway, and then looked at her instrument panel. “ Wow , I had no idea I was going that fast.” "We did, Auntie,” Meredith said, clutching on to the seatbelt.

"I'm not that bad of a driver,” Tracy said grumpily, looking into the rear view mirror.

"Please, I'm so young,” Meredith pleaded. “I've always wanted to have a family of my own.” "Oh for goodness sakes,” Tracy said as she eased up on the accelerator. “Bunch of babies. I'm going to get back onto the other side unless there are some complaints from the peanut gallery.” "No, we're good now,” BT croaked as they approached a more respectable 70 miles per hour.

Once Tracy had crossed back over she crept the car back up to close to 80 miles per hour. She knew she was close to Mike; she could damn near smell the sanitizer.

"I think I saw a glint,” BT said pointing straight ahead.

Tracy flooded the engine with gas.

"This doesn't mean you need to speed up,” BT said in all seriousness, “We don’t know what we're heading into.” "Oh come on BT, I can almost smell rubbing alcohol and bleach. It has to be Mike,” Tracy said, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

"I think I smell it too,” Meredith sniffed as she stuck her head out the window.

BT shook his head. “Listen, you're already gaining on them… him.” He changed the word when Tracy looked over at him glaringly. “Let's just make sure we don’t plow into him, that's all I'm saying. You're not listening to a word I say, are you?"

"You still talking?" Tracy asked.

"You weren't born a Talbot, what happened to you?" BT asked her.

"It must be infectious.”

"Great, when can I expect the conversion?"

"Oh, it's already deep into your bones by now, big man, won’t be long at all,” Tracy told him cheerfully.

BT absently scratched his arms. “Feels like I've got spiders crawling on me.”

"In, not on,” Meredith added helpfully.

"There are people in the truck bed,” Tracy said as she shielded her eyes.

BT grabbed his rifle.

"Is that Dad's truck?" Meredith asked, peering over the front seat.

Tracy took a moment to respond. "It's the same color, that's all I can really tell from here.” "Mike's not really one for picking up passengers,” BT said, really only as a pronouncement and not a query.

"We still don’t know if that's the right truck yet, so let's try not to adopt Mike's philosophy of riddle with bullets first and then solve the puzzle.”

Brian tapped on the window. “We've got company.”

"Yeah, I saw them a few seconds ago,” I told him.

"You want us to light them up!" Cindy asked excitedly.

"Don’t they have medication for that condition?" I asked. Thankfully the buffeting wind knocked my response clear from her ears.

"Did he say 'Yes?’" Cindy asked Brian as she started to check her magazine.

Perla popped her head up. “What's going on?"

Cindy pointed to the approaching car, rapidly gaining on the truck.

"Well it looks like we've been noticed,” BT grimaced.

"They're pointing weapons at us,” Tracy said as she eased up on the gas.

"No shooting!" I yelled.

"No offense Mike,” Brian said, "but I'm feeling mighty exposed sitting here in the back of a truck.” "This doesn't feel right, Mike,” Gary said. “We can’t just go blasting folks because we have a 'funny feeling.'"

"Agreed, big brother.” I began to slow the truck down.

"What's the plan?" Brian asked poking his head in.

"I'm going to pull over. You guys jump out and use the truck body as cover, no firing until we are fired upon. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough,” Brian agreed.

"Tracy, I see brake lights. You should slow down, they’ll be able to hammer the hell out of us if we drive by them,” BT said with a little alarm, remembering the last time they had gotten into a broadside attack with a truck full of errant rednecks. His leg twinged in sympathy.

Tracy mirrored the truck in front of her, as it slowed so did she. When it came to a stop she was moments away from stopping herself. “Now what BT?" Tracy glanced over at him.