Mark Tufo - The End ....

"Blood." Justin said breathlessly as he heaved what little remained inside of him.

I looked to his puddle of vomit, alarmed. Blood is never a good thing to discard. I was relieved when I didn’t see any. I looked at him questioningly.

"Blood, it looks like blood." He said pointing weakly to the vial in my hand.

"I think you’re right." I said looking more closely at it.

"Why?" He asked.

"I think we need six more."

Justin lurched a little with the thought of killing six more 'live' men. "Why?" He asked even more weakly.

"I think I'm holding zombie repellant here."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - JOURNAL ENTRY 15 -

I removed the charm from the chain and placed it in my pocket. "You up for this?" I asked Justin.

He gave a thumbs-up and a greasy smile. It wasn't the 'Ooh Rah' war cry of the Marines but it was going to have to do.

"Dad, you sure that thing is going to work?" Justin asked alluding to my new favorite piece of jewelry. Mind you it's not that I have other jewelry that I'm fond of, it's just that this piece could potentially save my family's collective asses. "I don't think I've got enough energy left to mask you again."

Now he had me thinking. What if this thing was useless, no more than a trinket fished out of a gumball machine. Death by rended flesh was not my ideal way to go. I was really looking for a massive coronary during mind blowing sex as my opt out. "Maybe you're right. Let's do a test. Let's make this quick though, time is definitely getting short."

Some of the slower ambling zombies were no more than 100 feet ahead of us. I was figuring better to let one of the deaders realize I was food than a pack of speeders. We approached some of the zombies who looked like they had gone through in an industrial washing machine full of glass. They were torn to shreds, shards of skin hanging askew. Occasionally birds would swoop down and feast on the proffered meat. To say it was disgusting would be like saying Henry's farts smelled like sweet ambrosia. I was willfully getting as close to them as I could; the repulsion I felt nearly rivaled the fear. My blood was blistering through my veins. The flight mechanism in me was in hyper drive. I could just turn around and…do what? The zombies were heading in the direction I needed to be in. Whether I blended in or fought my way through I had to get to where they were going before they got there, and I had to do it fast. The speeders up front were still meeting some resistance but it wasn't the resistance of a dug in enemy, it was the sporadic firing of an opponent during controlled retreat. The Marines were giving up territory in an attempt to save lives.

My concern for my family spurred me on. Justin fought to keep up, his reserves nearly depleted from his magic act. I was within 15 feet of the first zombie when he turned to look at me. One eye had completely rolled back up and into its head, his nose had been stripped clean of all edible pieces as had half his lip. The exposed brown teeth were forever frozen in a sinister looking stare.

"Shithead, should have used a whitening agent in your toothpaste." It was my way of dealing with the horror within. "I bet you've got the breath to match that smile."

The zombie had stopped its forward momentum to get a better look at us with its one good eye. His tongue flapped independent of any conscious thought. A seagull took that opportune time to swoop in and latch onto the lolling appendage. I nearly vomited when the bird used every ounce of its wing strength to rip the tongue from the zombie’s mouth. The zombie paid it no attention whatsoever as his tongue first stretched to unimaginable lengths and then like an over taut rubber band just snapped free. Viscous black liquid oozed forth from the wound. The zombie smacked its lips around the new au jus.

"Oh Dad, what the fuck?" Justin cried.

My sentiments exactly, but if I had voiced my thoughts it would not have been the only thing to spew forth and with the human enemy behind us I could not give them any reason to suspect that we weren't part of their group.

"What do we do if he tries to eat you?" Justin asked realizing we couldn't kill it without exposing ourselves to some serious issues, flying lead being among them.

"Well he's a deader and he looks like he's been through the ringer. We should be able to outpace him without drawing too much attention." I was however intentionally leaving out the thousand or so zombies to our forefront.

The zombie wavered a few more seconds as we got closer, like he was deciding if we were tasty enough to eat.

"Come on, come on." I said softly. "Make up your mind, it's not like you're doing trigonometry." Then I laughed.

"Dad, is this really a laugh worthy moment?"

"It is if you're wondering can a zombie do trig, when even I can't."

"Real hilarious Dad."

"You had to be there."

The zombie made one whistle snort sound through his completely open sinus passage and turned. I would swear that he looked a little bummed that we weren't on the menu but it's difficult to tell these things on a person who has had most of their facial tissues destroyed.

"I think this vial is our golden ticket out of here, Justin." I said excitedly.

"How are you planning on getting more?" Justin asked. We knew how I had to get it. The question was HOW was I going to get it.

I started to slow up a bit, letting the zombies get ahead and the human attackers from the rear catch up. The first opportunity presented itself almost immediately and it almost ended up being our last. I was thankful that the usurpers did not appear to have prior military training. They were basically broken up into independent units. There were no fire teams or squads, just loose bands of traitors, traitors to all of mankind. The zombies were mortal enemies, of that there was no doubt, but they did not choose their fate. These humans were tantamount to a tic latched onto a parasite. They were living off of a scourge. I would be glad to rid the world of as many of them as I could.

Nobody even looked at us twice as we meshed back into a group of them. Apparently leeches don't communicate. A couple of guys that bore a family resemblance and a third headed off to check out one of the base houses.

"Hey, do you mind if we come?" I asked the person that I assumed to be the leader of the trio.

The guy spit out a wad of tobacco, turned to look at us both. "You don't get all weak in the knees with killing do you?"

I shook my head in the negative.

"What if its women or kids?"

I shook my head again and even added in a lip scrunching to get my point across.

"What about him? He already looks a little queasy." The guy asked pointing to Justin.

"Naw, he's fine." I said. "He just had a bad can of Spam for breakfast." I proxied.

"I hate that shit. Either of you get in my way, I'll kill you." And with that he turned back around and headed towards the house.

The third man of the trio brazenly walked up to the front door and kicked it in. I more than half expected a shotgun blast to send him reeling back down the steps. I was more concerned the vial around his neck would get broken than the douchebag’s neck getting busted. When nothing happened we all walked in. The first man walked straight down the hallway like he had just come home from work. The leader quickly followed but got halfway down the hallway and took a left into the kitchen. His brother would have followed except for the seven-inch blade I stuck in his rib cage and through his lungs. You could barely hear the small 'thud' as he slipped out of my arms on the way to the floor or you might have never known about his passing.

"Bollie! Get in here man, they have your favorite." The leader shouted from around the corner.