Mark Tufo: The End ....

“Mike?” Tracy asked as she pushed past Murphy. “Mike?”

The medic looked down to the fluttering eyes of a cadaver. “No fucking way.” He said as he turned the monitor back on, fearful that they had brought a zombie into their midst.

The sergeant had an inkling of what might be going on. “Get the fuck away from him!” He shouted as he pulled his 1911 out of his holster. The transport had pitched to the side as the sergeant slammed on the brakes. The sergeant's gun was pressed to Mike’s head the trigger half depressed just as the monitor sounded to life with the telltale beating of a human heart. “Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.” The sergeant said as he holstered his weapon and got the hummer moving again, no more out of sorts than if he had found some extra change in his pockets.

“He can’t be alive.” The medic said clearly confused.

“You’d be amazed.” Tracy said as she held Mike’s head.

“I already am.” Murphy said in all honesty.

Murphy muted the volume on the monitor when it appeared that his patient was in no imminent threat of dying again, at least not on his watch. He could however not stop watching the green line as it made its way across the screen, not out of caution but out of awe. “He was dead for seven minutes.” He mumbled to himself. “He shouldn’t have enough brain function left to beat his heart. Do you mind?” Murphy asked Tracy, as he pulled a penlight out of his pocket.’’

Tracy was momentarily fearful of what he might discover and was inclined to say no, but nodded in ascension instead. Murphy reached over and gently pulled an eyelid back, shining the light into first one then the other eye. Both pupils reacted.

“I don’t understand.” Murphy said to no one.

“What’s going on?” The sergeant asked as he pulled a cigar out of his breast pocket. “Anyone mind?” He asked as he showed the cigar to everyone. He bit the end off and lit it before anyone had a chance to respond.

“This motherf…should be dead.” Murphy said. “Or at least brain dead. But his heart is beating strong and his pupils are dilating normally. He’s lost somewhere in the neighborhood of half his blood. He was clinically dead for damn near ten minutes and for all intents and purposes this guy could be asleep. Everything I’ve ever learned tells me that this guy should be dead.”

“I guess you need to learn some more.” The sergeant said as he took a big puff from his cigar. “He must have a lot worth living for,” the sergeant said as he looked over to Nicole and then Tracy. The medic shook his head again and not for the last time either.

CHAPTER FOUR -

The hummer rocketed towards its destination. Nicole had long since fallen asleep, her mind’s way of coping with her immense grief. Tracy cradled Mike’s head. His eyes rapidly moving below the closed eyelids threatened to open on more than one occasion but never did. The arrow bolt stood like a blunted tree branch out of Mike. She had wanted to just rip the vile invader from his body but she knew the futility of that endeavor.

“We have a great surgeon at the base.” Murphy told Tracy as he saw her looking at the arrow. “But I bet if we gave Mike another day or two he’d just take it out on his own.”

Tracy half laughed half cried at his words. “Sorry about the whole balls thing.” She said.

“No, no, you were right.” Murphy said.

“How much further?” She asked Murphy.

Sergeant Stanton answered for him. “Another hour at our current speed.”

Fifty caliber rounds broke the silence of rubber meeting roadway.

“Bandits,” came over scratchily through the MUCS radio receiver. “Seven, no eight cars and trucks bearing down on us. Multiple gun fire, we’re taking hits back here.”

“Shit they must be desperate if they’re attacking military.” Sergeant Stanton said as he ground his cigar into the ashtray. “Base Custer, Base Custer, this is Rover seven, can you read?”

“Custer huh.” Tracy said. “Couldn’t think of anything better?”

“Seemed appropriate at the time.” The sergeant said. “And now it just stuck.”

“Well I hope for all of our sakes it’s not really the last stand.” Tracy finished.

“Rover seven, this is Base Custer, haven’t heard from you in a while, what is your status?” Came the even scratchier, static laced voice.

“Had a bit of a detour.” The sergeant said summing up the battle of Carol’s homestead. “We could use a little assistance Base, we’re on route 80 mile marker 94, just outside of town and we’ve acquired some company. We’ve got eight militant vehicles chasing us.”

“Roger that, Eagle two is in flight, eta 12 minutes.”

“Roger that.” The sergeant said calmly.

“Twelve minutes?” Murphy said incredulously “We’ll never be able to out run them for that long.”

Tracy was looking questioningly back and forth at the conversation. “Murphy answered her unasked question. “ A hummer could climb a wall if it had too, but as far as speed goes, a not so well trained athlete on a ten speed could go faster than we could.”

“Wonderful.” Tracy said sarcastically.

“They won’t get too close with the fifties going.” Sergeant Stanton said.

“How many rounds we have again?” Tracy asked.

“Good point.” The sergeant retorted, pushing the gas pedal through the floorboard. The transport surged from fifty-five miles an hour to nearly fifty-eight.

“Sarge, they’re peppering the shit out of us back here!” A Marine’s voice came over the radio.

“No warning shots, Corporal.” The sergeant yelled into the handset to be heard. “Light ‘em up, help is on the way.”

“Private, light ‘em up!” The corporal yelled to his gunner, finger still depressing the send signal, the lead hummer was able to listen in stereo as the blasts came over the airwaves. Mutilated metal screamed in protest as high velocity rounds crucified the lead attackers sheet metal covered car. The dull explosion of the car could barely compete with the expenditure of the machine gun.

“They’re pulling back Sarge!” The corporal said excitedly.

“Take out another one before they get courageous.” The sergeant said.

The corporal relayed the message. Two rounds later an eerie quiet descended over the travelers.

“Any chance that’s a jam?” The sergeant asked the corporal.

“Fuck.” Came the corporal’s flustered response. Seems we’re out of ammo and those crazy sons-of-bitches know it.”

The pops and bangs of multiple small arms fire dominated. “Shit they got a tire Sarge!” The corporal shouted.

“You’re fine corporal, the ‘run flats’ run rough but it's drivable.”

“Run flats?” Tracy mouthed the question to Murphy.

“Yeah all military vehicles have them, it’s a hard rubber insert within the tire. So if the tire is shot out the truck can still move. Kind of a necessity.”

“Apparently.” Tracy said with concern.

“Eagle two, eagle two this is Rover Seven, can I get an updated eta we seem to be in a little bit of trouble, over.” The sergeant spoke into the hand piece.

“Rover seven, this is eagle Two, when aren’t you in a little bit of trouble.”

“That’s what everyone needs, a smart ass.” The sergeant said to the occupants of the transport.

The sliced air percussion of the chopper blades was an unmistakable sound as the Apache helicopter closed in. The attackers were either extremely desperate or extremely stupid or both. Three of the attackers peeled off as the helicopter came in. The other six pressed the attack. The Apache hovered in the sky, a lone sentinel dispensing justice one tank-busting round at a time. Thirty seconds later four cars and two trucks were nothing more than twisted, shredded remnants of their former selves. The small military convoy raced away from the scene. The Apache hovered for a few more seconds looking for any signs of life, nothing moved except for the lazily drifting smoke from the wreckage.