Mark Tufo - The End ....

Something was getting close. There was the occasional clatter of a bottle being kicked or the sound of a foot splashing into a puddle. There were no arcs of light from flashlights cutting through the tunnel. That was of small solace though. A bullet might be a kinder way to go. It was damn near impossible to tell how far we had come underground. Justin had kept us on a fairly straight course, just as I had told him to, but the disorienting combination of the darkness and the pressing walls made gauging distance difficult. Our direction had mostly been a southeastern route away from Lake Michigan. I figured we had to be nearing the outer edges of Camp Custer and that could possibly mean a dead end. I couldn't imagine any Commander worth his weight in salt allowing an open passage right under his feet. There would be bars across the tunnel soon and once we got to them it would be too late; we would have to backtrack to an alternate exit while hopefully avoiding our pursuers. With nothing more than our bare hands against an enemy that loved to bite, I was looking for an egress now.

"Justin, next junction we go up." I yelled.

"We out of the base?" He asked.

"Doubt it seriously, but close. We need a truck, guns, rest, food, shelter and maybe four or five other things."

"Got it."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - JOURNAL ENTRY 19 -

Within five minutes we were on terra firma as opposed to under it. There would eventually be eternity for that, just not yet. Camp Custer was in ruins. It looked like a set from a 1960's Godzilla movie. Buildings were smashed to rubble, fires blazed, cars and trucks were strewn about. You know the idiom: History always repeats itself. Camp Custer fell just like the legendary General. Who was the idiot that named this place? His first choice was probably Camp Alamo or Camp Pearl Harbor, maybe even Camp Waterloo. I would have gone with a name that didn't ultimately spell doom and destruction, but that's just me.

Sadness threatened to completely overwhelm our beleaguered band of travelers. We were all tired. Add in a heavy dose of depression, stir in a dash of death and you get a recipe that nobody wants to choke down. I had to keep telling myself this wasn't home, this had been merely a brief respite, a healing way station until we were able to get back on our feet both physically and mentally. Another two months or even a year or so here would have been perfection but Tommy's sister had other ideas. That was another wrinkle I would have to deal with eventually; 'all good things to those who wait,' I thought sarcastically.

We hadn't moved very far at all from the manhole cover we had come up from when the stench of death wafted up; it wasn't too difficult to figure out what was down there. For the first time I was thankful it was zombies and not humans. Unless we had moved on to Zombies Version 3.0 they would not possess the motor skills necessary to climb the ladder, but it still made my skin crawl that they were that close. Apparently I wasn't the only one that shared that sentiment, as we all collectively and subconsciously moved farther away from our escape hole.

"Alright, we've got to find some wheels," I said, more to break the painful silence that had settled on us all than to relate any new information on our plan.

"Mike." Carol said as she sat down on some cinder blocks that had once held up a wall on what used to be a nail salon. "I need to rest."

I looked hard at her, not out of anger but only for concentration purposes. I was adverse to splitting up.

"I'll stay with her," BT said. It was part altruism and part necessity for BT. He wasn't in much better shape than Carol was. Pain exuded from every motion as he plopped down on his own makeshift resting spot.

This was sucking more and more. Those two couldn't outrun a crawling zombie and I was about to leave them to their own devices without any protection whatsoever. Their decisions were made. The best thing I could do for them was hurry up. Their concealment in this destroyed stretch of roadway was not by the book battle tactics but it would have to do.

"Go man, go." BT said. "I'll keep an eye on her," as he bowed his head nearly into his lap.

It was looking more like Carol was the one that was going to be keeping an eye on him.

The rest of us moved off, keeping close to the rubble line. Tommy never spoke and barely took his eyes from the road six inches in front of his feet. I was feeling bad for the kid but he had a lot of explaining to do even if Eliza had only spoken 25% of the truth. My gut told me that nothing she said was a lie. She was the essence of pure evil and nothing cuts deeper than unvarnished truth.

The farther we moved away from Carol and BT, the more nervous I became. This was looking more and more like a fruitless effort. What wasn't burning outright had fallen victim to the Terexes' crushing power.

"Mike?" Tracy asked with concern.

"I know, I know." I wiped my forehead free from perspiration that should have not been able to form in this hostilely cold weather. "We have got to find a way off this base, Hon. There is no other option. Zombies will sniff us out eventually. Walking isn't even an option and not because of BT and your mom either, we're all wiped out."

Travis had gone up to the next corner scouting the way ahead. When he signaled I couldn't tell if it was good or bad. It ended up being a mixture of the two. He had found transportation. It just so happened to be surrounded by a cluster of zombies that were fighting over the remaining scraps of an unlucky soul who had also been looking for a way off the base and had been fractions of a second on the "too late" side. His crappy fortune was to our benefit.

"I've got an idea, Dad," Travis said as he pulled back from his vantage point.

He never gave me the opportunity to dispute the validity of his plan as he quickly crossed the street unseen and then shouted to the zombies, "Here I am!"

I wanted to throttle him. That really wasn't much of a plan. If there were speeders in the mix he didn't have much of a head start on them. Too late now, the play was in motion. I turned, gesturing to everyone to get down. Travis made sure that the zombies had taken an unhealthy interest in him and then he bolted down the trash-scattered roadway. I was going to kick his ass when I got back to him. We hadn't even figured out a rendezvous point and I had to hope that he was smart enough not to bring them back to our original starting point where Carol and BT were.

"Damn him," I muttered as two speeders raced by, followed by four ragged deaders and one crawler that looked as if she had fallen victim to the Terex. From about midway down what remained of her ass was flattened to pulp. The pressure from the tire grounding her into the pavement had caused one eye to completely rupture out and it was now dragging on the path alongside her, leaving a trail of slime much like a slug would. That grossed me out more than the shattered bone fragments that protruded at odd angles through her tattered blue jeans.

Travis and the speeders were long gone. The deaders were far enough away that even if they noticed us we still had plenty of an escape cushion. That left the crawler. She turned her head in our direction as we stood back up and headed to the humvee. Her voided socket stared at us as intensely as her good eye. For someone with so many damaged parts she made short work of turning back around and pulling herself towards us. Tracy and Nicole were nearly riveted in place. I'm not sure Tommy even noticed her, so intent was he on some flattened gum on the sidewalk. As Justin and I headed for the hummer, the movement drew the zombie's attention away from the women, not that they were in any imminent danger anyway.