Mark Tufo - The End ....

Porkchop was full on crying now. But he marshaled on. There was a strength to the kid that you might not account for upon first glance, but the fact that he was alive was testament to that.

“I don’t know how many times I hit him but my arms were tired by the time he went to his knees and then he kinda fell over. My controller went with him. It flew right out of my hands cuz it was stuck in his head. His arms and legs were twitching and I could hear him moaning a little bit, but I didn’t care, I needed to go check on my mom.”

If this was a movie, this is where I would start yelling at the person on the screen to ‘RUN, just get out of the house, LEAVE NOW!' “Oh Porkchop. I’m so sorry.” I knew what was coming long before he could begin to tell me about it.

“The bedroom door was open, but it was super dark in there. I couldn’t see anything. So I called out to my mom.” He wiped his nose, rivulets of snot running into his mouth. “She didn’t say anything, she wasn’t moaning or anything. So I started to think that maybe she had gone to the hospital. Then I thought that she might need some stuff while she’s there. I needed to turn on a light so I could get her a bag packed. I turned on that light Mr. Talbot. I didn’t even think it was mom. How could anybody be in so many pieces?”

The doctor had come over and was fiercely hugging Porkchop. I had a lump in my throat that could have been used for ski jumps. “It’ll be alright.” The doc said, slightly swaying to Porkchop’s full-throated cries.

After a few minutes, Porkchop had got himself in a near semblance of control. “I went over to Doc Baker’s house.”

“We were neighbors in our condo units.” Doc elaborated.

“I thought maybe he might be able to fix my mom up.” Porkchop said biting on his lower lip in an effort to stifle anymore crying.

“When Porkchop had come to my door, he was covered in blood. I thought that he had been involved in some sort of accident. He told me that something was wrong with his parents. I walked into that apartment completely unprepared for what I saw. I honestly thought it was a domestic dispute turned horribly wrong. I told Porkchop here to take a shower while I called the police. Well by then it was too late, most if not all of the cops were either out on other wild calls or had abandoned ship altogether having realized that the world had indeed shit the bed.”

“Doc.” Porkchop said.

“Sorry, can’t tell you not to do it and then turn around and do it myself, not much leadership by example.”

“I’ll let it slide this time, if you let it slide the next time I do it?”

“One, I’ll give you one. But don’t tell Mrs. Baker and it can’t be a really bad one.”

“Deal.” Porkchop said through blurry tear stained eyes.

“We heard sirens and gunshots all night. The news talked about a virus running rampant but I just couldn’t believe there was something out there that could make people eat other people, much less re-animate the dead. I mean medically there is nothing more preposterous. Porkchop wasn’t in much of a condition to answer any questions but I had seen his apartment. Something terribly wrong had happened, but I could not reconcile it. That night as the sirens and the gunshots grew louder and more drawn out, my family, Porkchop and myself crammed onto my couch. I don’t know why I did it but I had turned out the lights. We sat there the whole night like that. By the time the morning came at least three quarters of my body had fallen asleep, I had pins and needles nearly everywhere.”

“That’s a lot of sharpened steel.” I said absently.

The doc eyed me sharply. I hadn’t meant anything by the words just an observation. Forty-four years old and I still hadn’t figured out how to disengage the thought from speech button in my brain. There were seven year olds that had this simple basic function mastered.

“The scene outside my window was horrific. It was equally as bad as the scene in Porkchop’s own abode. There were dead and dying people everywhere. What I would come to know as zombies weren’t yet out in great numbers but there were still plenty afoot. The real problem was that Gary, Indiana was on fire. Mike, we were four stories up in a condominium. I figured we’d be able to wait this whole thing out and let the government deal with it. I had done an inventory the previous night and figured between my house and Porkchop’s we had at least a week to ten days worth of food, surely by then order would be restored.”

“Wouldn’t that have been nice,” I threw in for good measure.

“Quite. I wanted to wait. That seemed the most logical course of action. I’m a doctor. I don’t know how to kill, unless its malpractice.” The doc paused for dramatic effect.

“Really Doc? That’s your attempt at humor?”

“That was a secret passion of mine, to become a stand-up comedian.”

“Well lucky for us all you settled your sights lower and became a doctor.”

The Doc looked at me. “See now, THAT'S funny, do you mind if I use that?”

“Knock yourself out Doc.”

“They do shows every week and I’ve been gathering enough material and…well forget about that. Needless to say those fires saved my life. If the city hadn’t been burning I would have never left. The most dangerous thing I had ever done in my life up to that point was work at a strip club.”

Doc didn’t elaborate at this point, so when someone tells you that they worked at a strip club, you tell me what you assumed he did. All I could think was that I hoped that establishment had an 11-drink minimum. That might be the only way you could get through his routine.

“I worked my way through college as a disc jockey there.”

“Whew.” I blurted out. Luckily the Doc didn’t make the connection.

“There were fights almost nightly at the club but we had 5 or 6 bouncers who did all the heavy work. All I had to do was play music, announce the dancers and crack a joke or two.”

“I heard your jokes Doc, good thing there were breasts involved.”

“I guess I always thought the cheers were for my witticisms.”

“Oh yeah definitely not for Miss Double D’s tatas.”

“I gather you don’t have many friends Mr. Talbot.”

“Ouch, that hurts, but you’re more right than you know. I apparently was born without the gift of a thought filter.”

“And yet that lovely lady Tracy still married you?”

“That’s probably got more to do with my prowess, if you know what I mean?” I said with as much leering as I could muster without letting Porkchop in on my meaning.

“Oh I’m sure that was it.” The Doc said condescendingly.

“Can we get back to your story?” I asked a little snappishly.

The doc laughed and then just as quickly turned serious. “I was scared Mike. I mean I was frozen from indecision. Do we all go out as a group and get the car? Do I get the car and then have everybody come out then? Do we bring all the food? Do we need supplies? Formulating a plan was beyond me. My entire life revolved around order, things that involved stepping out of bounds were dealt with by my staff or my wife. I mean my wife is as smart as she is beautiful but this wasn’t a soccer practice running late or a skinned knee, this was Armageddon. Not many people have a plan for that sort of thing.”

I meekly held my hand up.

“Well of course except for you, Mike.” I nodded, and he continued. “But the rest of us like to think our ordinary lives are going to continue on as planned, two week’s vacation in France, dinner every Thursday at Chez Palace, building my practice up to the point that I can finally sell it and retire to Arizona, just normal stuff.”

I wanted to tell him that wasn’t normal for 98% of the American population. Most of us would have been happy with a 4 day weekend at Six Flags, a Wednesday night run to Wendy’s, and hopefully making enough money so that we wouldn’t have to hand out stickers at Wal-Mart when we had retired. No offense Tommy. If nothing else the zombies had leveled the playing field. We all were equally mired in the shit of existence now. I just nodded. I saw no sense or purpose in kicking the man while he was down.