Mark Tufo: The End ....

"Base Custer, Base Custer this is Eagle two."

"Eagle two this is Base Custer, over."

"Base Custer, six of the attacking vehicles have been disposed of, permission to pursue the three that have fled the scene."

"Eagle two, that is a negative. Repeat that is a negative. The Colonel wants you to watch Rover Seven's back."

"Great babysitting duty."

"Say again Eagle two."

"Roger that Base Custer. Eagle Two out."

CHAPTER FIVE - JOURNAL ENTRY 1 -

Holy shit, I’m in Heaven. Any place that smells like fried chicken has got to be heaven. My mouth worked on its own volition as orts of something wondrous crossed my lips. My eyes fluttered open.

“Dad! Dad! He’s awake!” The shouting came less than six inches from my face. That was my introduction to ‘Porkchop’ as he leaned down looking at me, flakes of deep fried goodness spilling down from the chicken leg he held close to his mouth. I was mildly repulsed as his yelling let pre-chewed bits of food fall from his mouth and into mine. I might have pushed him away if I had possessed the strength. The second part of the equation though was the sheer look of exhilaration in his face at my awaking. His sincere visage and husky features completely endeared him to me, and then the cold cruel world shattered the well being that had momentarily enveloped me.

“Brendon?” I asked him. His look of not knowing of whom I was talking about answered my question.

‘Dad’ came over to my bedside. “Didn’t think you were going to make it, Michael.”

He looked regular army in his pressed digital battle fatigues and captain bars. He might have been a little on the heavyset side but that was nothing new to the army.

“Hardly seems worth it at this point, Doc.” I answered. Abdication was interwoven with my words.

He ignored my self-pity. “You’re family has been here for three days straight. I finally had to send them out to get some sleep. I don’t think they would have left except the big kid, what is his name?”

“Tommy”

“Yeah Tommy said you were going to be alright. At that point I wasn’t so sure but they deferred to him. Sure is something about him.” The Doc said with a faraway look. “Your daughter is a mess. I’ve been keeping her lightly sedated.”

“Oh my God, Coley!” I lamented even harder. I was too mired in my own depression to realize there might be someone else grieving harder than I was.

“She’ll eventually be alright Mike.” The Doc answered more familiarly.

I braced myself for my next question but it needed answering. “Doc can you give me a list of everyone who did come in with me?”

“You up for this?”

I nodded in ascension, but my heart said abso-fucking-lutely not.

“There was your wife, her mother…” He hesitated. I almost shit myself in panic. “Then your older son Justin who I have on antibiotics, he was in rough shape, some sort of low grade fever was running rampant through his body. I went in…”

“DOC!”

“Sorry, umm okay, and then your younger son, Travis, I believe is his name. This mean tempered giant.”

“BT” I answered. He looked at me inquiringly. “Big Tiny or Bad Tempered, take your pick.”

“And then of course Tommy.”

He stopped. As heart struck as I was that my family had survived, I was still desolate. We had suffered two devastating losses. I turned from the Doctor not willing to cry in front of him. He respectfully walked away. Porkchop, however did not.

“Hey mister what’s the matter?” He asked, as chicken still spewed forth from him. I could feel the bits as they clung desperately to my previously fever streaked face. “Why you crying? Do you want some chicken?”

“Porkchop let him be.” His dad called from across the room.

“I’ll get you some chicken.” He stage whispered to me.

A few minutes had passed and the depth of my mourning had somehow deepened. A bottomless chasm of despair, I gained momentum as I sank deeper and deeper.

Porkchop came back, ruddy with exertion. “I would have been here sooner, but Buddha knocked me down and then Henry took the piece of chicken I had got for you so I had to go back and get another piece.”

A brilliant beam of light pierced the darkness. I wouldn’t believe it, not just yet. False hope is worse than no hope at all. I looked piercingly at Porkchop. My red-rimmed eyes making me look a little more unstable than usual. “Who’s Henry? Porkchop.”

“He’s Buddha’s newest best friend.” Porkchop answered back innocently.

“What is it with you and your dad? Why do you guys keep circumventing answers?”

“Huh?” Porkchop answered as he tilted his head.

“Dad, I think this guy needs some more medicine or something.” He said as he absently took a bite of the chicken that he had promised for me.

I wanted to grab the boy’s shoulder and shake the answer out of him, but it became unnecessary as a large brown bundle of fat and slobber walked through the door, most likely after the piece of chicken that got away. I bawled like I was 3 and my favorite balloon had loosed from my wrist and was now halfway to the stars.

“See dad. I told you he needed more medicine.” as he took another bite.

Henry didn’t hesitate. He somehow launched himself onto my bed, the pain as he stirred my injury was nothing in comparison to the relief that flooded through me as he licked my face. Now I’m not ignorant, I know a large part of the licking had to do with Porkchop’s chicken, but not all of it. His stubby tail spoke volumes as it shuffled from side to side. Within moments a brindle colored bulldog of roughly the same size of Henry sauntered in.

“That’s Buddha.” Porkchop filled in.

Buddha looked to his partner in crime. I watched as the dog looked at the floor and then at the bed trying to figure out how Henry had got that high. He also smelled the chicken. His great head swiveled towards Porkchop.

“Dad?!” Porkchop yelled, looking for backup.

“Both you mutts out of here.” The Doc ordered them.

True to their breed, neither moved. Oh it wasn’t that they didn’t understand. They just weren’t given the proper motivation. The Doc reached into a drawer he had filled with biscuits just for these occasions. Both dogs were ‘rewarded’ with a cookie for doing what they had been asked to do, leave the room. A tear fell from my eye as I watched his ass waddle out. A quick smile came to my lips as I wondered if we had the dogs trained or they had us trained.

"Fuck can't a guy get any sleep around here?" BT bellowed as he pulled his privacy curtain open. BT's massive body was laid out in an undersized bed. His leg suspended in some sort of medieval torture device was wrapped in a blue cast. "Good to see you Talbot." He said with a broad smile across his features. Puffiness around his eyes threatened to limit his vision. The pain of losing Jen and Brendon was still a fresh oozing wound upon us all.

"Good to see you too BT." I said honestly. Neither of us commented on the others wet eyes. We bonded like all men, silently and in pain.

"Lawrence why are you awake?" The Doc asked.

"Who the hell is Lawrence?" I asked of the only other two occupants in the room. BT directed a stare at the Doc that should have stopped him in his tracks. The vapid gaze did not go unnoticed by me. "Lawrence? Your name is Lawrence?" I asked BT.

"I'll wring your scrawny little neck Talbot if you let anybody know!" BT threatened.

"It's not like you're going to be able to catch me in that get up." I answered him.

If the human body contained gaskets, BT would have blown one. He shifted around on his bed looking for a way to get out of his traction. BT grabbed the stand that was holding up his IV bag and started to use it like an Italian gondolier, pushing his bed closer and closer to mine, which in itself was pretty impressive, considering the rubber wheels were locked in place.