Mark Tufo - The End ....

“Forty-seven.”

“Forty-seven what?”

“I got up forty-seven times.”

She looked at me incredulously. “You counted?” She shook her head. “Forget it, you need this diversion as much as I do. Maybe you’ll be too cold to want to scratch.”

“Yeah, probably because my blood will congeal.”

“Ha ha, we’re still going. Get your jacket.”

I turned to grab my jacket off the peg, stopping only once to rub up against the hook.

“Talbot!”

“Fine! But if you weren’t my wife I’d tell you a thing or two.” My voice had been trailing off since the first word, so that I had ended on a mumble.

“What was that?” Tracy asked.

“Yes dear.”

“I thought that’s what you said.”

The short walk to the shoreline was actually invigorating. The cold air was refreshing. The monster irritation in my shoulder was tamed to a minor troll. I felt slightly naked not carrying my AR but base rules prohibited the carrying of rifles. Pistols were alright and actively encouraged. I carried both my Glock 9mm and my Smith and Wesson .357. Tracy was actually carrying a Walther 9mm. She made me so proud, had I not been on a military base with so many military personnel around I might have shed a tear of pride.

We walked completely ignored by the myriad of soldiers that passed us. We were just a couple of refugees in an ever-growing community. I wondered how long the resources on hand would be able to sustain this impromptu base, and then as quickly as the thought popped up it blew away. I planned on being long gone before that ever became an issue.

We reached the shoreline. A few miserable looking guards patrolled the beach looking for any wayward zombies. I didn’t see how that was going to happen though. The bay had frozen solid since the last time zombies had come ashore. There were a bunch of kids actually playing hockey a hundred or so yards off shore. The scene was serene, almost idyllic, Norman Rockwell-ish.

“Travis should be out there.” Tracy said pointing to the 20 or so kids skating around in the semblance of a game.

My nerves pulled tight. I don’t know why but the Hershey squirts would have been denied passage, my sphincter had slammed so tightly shut. I go over these things again and again, not even sure if I should keep flagging my ‘not so proud’ moments. Did I fear he would fall through the ice? That seemed unfounded, considering that there were at least ten or more hummers driving near the ice water freeze line. The ice had to be at least 18 inches to support that weight and the vehicles were at least another hundred or so yards past the kids.

“Why are they so far from shore?” I fairly begged of Tracy.

“Relax, Talbot. Travis told me that the ice was a lot smoother out there.”

“You knew?” I nearly yelled.

“What’s the matter with you?” She asked.

“I don’t fucking know!” I said as I started to speed walk nearly busting out into a sprint.

“Talbot don’t you go out there all willy-nilly, you’ll embarrass him.”

“Fine.” I said, doing everything in my power to keep my muscles from firing at full tilt.

We were half way to the kids when I felt a tremor.

“Did you feel that?” I said as I stopped and turned to Tracy who was hastening to catch up.

“Feel what?” Tracy said catching her breath as she pulled up alongside. “I thought I told you no running.”

“That.” I said as another minor quake erupted under our feet.

“That’s probably just the humvees.” Tracy said. I don’t think she even believed the words as she spoke them.

The roar as ice began to crack was unnerving. Brontosaurus leg bones snapping under sound amplification could not have competed with the blistering reverberation. Everything and everybody became as frozen as the landscape around us. That false harmony ended quickly and badly as first one and then another hummer sank into the fracturing ice. Kids, hyper aware of danger, were not slow to react. The majority of them had already closed half the distance to Tracy and I as the second hummer finished its icy descent into hell. Tracy started running out towards Travis. I got up to her and grabbed her arm.

“Forget him!” I yelled.

“Are you out of your mind?!” She screamed trying to tug her arm away.

“Shit I didn’t mean it like that, he’s on skates, he’s going to pass us by in a few seconds. Us on the other hand, need to start running back NOW!” I yelled as I pulled her towards shore. She didn’t need any more prodding as the ice behind us literally began to explode under an as yet undetermined assault.

“Mom? Dad?” Travis asked as he skated next to us. “What’s going on?”

“Go!” I yelled to him. “Get to shore and get your boots on as fast as possible, we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Mom?” He asked.

Tracy nodded, holding on to the terror that was building up within in her. Not wanting her son to see it.

Travis had made it to shore and was nearly done putting his boots on when we finally huffed and puffed our way to shore. Walking on ice is already a slippery proposition, pun intended. But when you’re running because your life depends on it, it becomes infuriatingly difficult to gain any sort of momentum.

We turned to watch as one more hummer became forever locked in a watery graveyard. One of the two occupants barely escaped only to succumb moments later when another fissure opened up in front of him. I wanted to help but there wasn’t anything to be done. The remaining hummers pulled onto shore. They must have felt what I did because each passenger manned the mounted .50 cal sub-machinegun. Tense glances were passed around as we all wondered what in the hell was going on.

“Dad.” Travis said grabbing my arm and pointing off into the distance.

I could barely make out a glint of reflective light. I walked up to the closest hummer.

“Could I see your glasses?” I asked a tense looking Lance Corporal seated behind the wheel. I hoped my use of combat vernacular would aid in my question.

“Sure, whatever.” He said never taking his eyes off of the water line. He pointed into the back storage compartment.

“Thanks.” I said as I grabbed the binoculars. “Sweet Jesus!” I said as I pulled the binoculars down from my eyes and handed them to Trav. “Sorry God.” I mumbled. It was something I did every time I took the Lord’s name in vain, Old Catholic habits die hard. “Time to go.” As I grabbed the binoculars back and threw them back into the hummer. “Lance Corporal.” He didn’t move.

“Yeah, yeah.” He said thinking I was going to thank him for the binoculars.

“Lance Corporal!” I yelled.

He finally spared me a glance.

“Close to the shoreline on your left, use the binoculars.”

He held the binoculars up. “Sweet Jesus.”

“Yeah I thought the same thing, you Catholic?”

“What? You need to get out of here. Lutheran by the way” he said, getting out of the hummer to warn his fellow Marines.

“Yup, thought the same thing about getting out of here. Wouldn’t have taken you for a Lutheran.”

“Mike, what the hell is that thing?” Tracy asked, squinting her eyes and shielding them from the majority of snow blindness to see.

“Not a hundred percent sure, mind you, but Terex 5500 comes to mind.” I said grabbing her arm and rushing her back towards our barracks.

“A what?” She said turning back to get a better view of a rapidly approaching monstrosity.

“Oh just one of the largest dump trucks ever created on the good old planet Earth.”

“A dump truck? Big deal.” Tracy said digging her heels in and stopping our forward momentum.

“”I really don’t think you’re getting it. That thing is probably 30 feet tall and 50 feet long and can haul 100’s of tons of dirt. But I’ve got a pretty bad feeling that thing’s payload doesn’t involve dirt, only things that should be buried in it.”