Mark Tufo - A Plague Upon Your Family

Alex looked around nervously as he stepped down off the truck. “What’s up Mike?”

“Dude I just need to take a quick leak.” (And rip some major ass, I didn’t tell him that part) I yelled back. After the events of the last few weeks I did not want to stray too far from the relative safety of the cars but I was still holding on to the vestiges of decency. That and I wanted everyone to be far enough away from my back blast. Twenty something years of married life and I had never (willingly) ripped a fart in front of Tracy. Sure I’ve let go of my share in my sleep. I’ve even woken myself up with a few that were so air splittingly loud. Whether or not I woke Tracy too I don’t know she never let on. I found the best middle ground available. I walked over to a small cattle fence, ten feet from the edge of the road. I could tell by the way the gas was heating the rear of my pants this one was going to be a stinker. I just hoped it wouldn’t leave a vapor trail in the frigid air. I was thankful to all the gods that still walked across the land that this wasn’t a call to nature that involved the other end. There wasn’t so much as a stop sign to hide that action. At least I could use my body to shield the majority of this basic action.

“Wonderful.” I heard from the back of the truck as the door rolled up. “I’m stuck in that truck for God knows how long and that’s what I have to witness when I finally get out.”

“Oh no.” My head exploded. Civilization, and possibly humanity itself is hanging on by a thread and that’s what survives? Mrs. Deneaux was gently lowered from the rear of the truck by BT and her nephew, Thad (the manager from Safeway). I almost lost grip of my manhood as it tried in vain to pull up into my body. The better to protect itself from the soul-sucking bitch that was walking on the snow swept roadway. I finished, yanking my zipper up. I nearly severed what my priest had circumcised 44 years ago. ‘Alright enough with the surprises.’ I walked back towards the rear of the truck to see who would be popping out of the back like a rabbit from a magician’s hat. Mostly to gauge our strength but partly to see what other malcontents might make themselves known. I looked into the murky interior, hoping that Jed had somehow managed to get aboard. Unless he was cowering behind the near catatonic April, this wasn’t going to be the case. In this new reality I would more likely expect to see Fritzy (the zombie rapist I killed in the cat suit) than my unexpected ally Jed. Close to April, pushed against the back of the truck was Little Turtle’s guest greeter, Joann, and she was clutching on to a small group of children, three I thought but I wasn’t completely sure. I wasn’t even sure if they were hers, not that it mattered though, it seemed like a pretty symbiotic relationship. They clutched each other so tightly, I thought it might take acetone to release them. Bad analogy I know, I was going with the whole super glue thing. Anyway, no immediate help from that small scrum. Next was Igor, the Russian gate guard, he was sleeping comfortably against the left side of the truck with what appeared to be a bottle of vodka held firmly in his left hand. That was a welcome surprise, he was a little older and a little overweight, but I thought I’d be able to trust him in a fight. Provided, of course, that he stayed awake. And then my eyes widened.

“Hi, neighbor happy to see me?” Jen asked.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Besides Alex and his recovering wife, we had five small kids, a waifish woman that was holding on to two of the kids not in Joann's clutches, one uber-bitch, two women Joann and April, that had checked out and most likely needed an intravenous dose of xanax, uber-bitch’s nephew that looked like he would be more comfortable counting zombies than killing them, a giant black man that I was more than convinced wanted to break me in half, a drunk Russian and then the kicker my lesbian neighbor Jen. Don’t get me wrong it’s not that I don’t like lesbians, hell I want to be one. It’s just that Jen had pretty much told me that she no longer had the will to live and to top it off she proved she was useless in a fight, having cowered in the truck on the day we had made a stop at the local National Guard armory.

Paul pressed on my shoulder as he jumped from the back. “Thanks man.” He said.

“Yeah any time I can be of help.” I answered never taking my eyes of Jen.

“Well are you going to help a lady down, or are you just going to keep staring at me?” Jen asked as she held her hand out to me.

“Why are you in the truck?” I asked. It came out before I could stop it. It sure as hell wasn’t the politically correct thing to say but, man, I really wanted to know.

She pulled her hand back as if it had been stung. “Listen Mike, I know how you feel about me.” She started.

‘Jen if you had any idea of how I felt about you, you’d be over there huddling with the others.’ I wanted to say it, my inner demons screamed to say it, my immature side cried to say it, my socially conscious, higher civility reasoning, stupid jerk other side had a different thought on the matter.

She continued. “I want revenge Mike.”

“Jen we’ve had this conversation before.” Her eyes teared up a bit, friggen women they always know which damn buttons of mine to push. Maybe I should stop wearing mine on my sleeve. If I put them under my jacket they’d be a little tougher to get to. I pursed my lips, and shook my head.

She seemed to take that as an acknowledgement that it was okay to continue, uninterrupted. “When we got back that day, I sat in my and Jo’s bedroom. Most of the time it was with a .32 caliber pushed to my temple.” I involuntarily blew out air. “I just wanted it to be over, the pain, the hopelessness, everything. I mean what was the point right?” I found myself nodding with her. “I awoke the next morning with the gun still pressed against my head.”

“Holy crap, you were a muscle spasm away from, well you know.” I said in disbelief.

She smiled wanly. “I dreamt about Jo that night.” Her eyes got that far away look. “I dreamt about her love of life. No matter how shitty things got for her, she appreciated and looked forward to the small things in life, a cup of hot cocoa, a trip to IKEA, a new bottle of patchouli, a game of softball. Oh God I miss her.” She sobbed. I looked away for a few seconds letting her collect herself. She seemed to be indebted from the gesture. "Whew, sorry, I had to get that out. Jo would have wanted to me to live, to love, to embrace everything. Not wallow in despair. If she knew that I had wanted to kill myself she would have kicked my ass."

By the way, I would have paid to see that. Sorry just a side note.

“When I finally realized why my skull ached that morning, I pulled the gun away from my head and tossed it across the room. When it knocked over the hat I had put over the picture of me and her on our union day I knew then and there that Jo was still with me and I wouldn’t let her, or for that matter you, down again.”

‘That remained to be seen.’ I didn’t say it. I’m an immature dick, not a monster. I helped Jen down and handed her a power bar. I turned as I heard Brendan’s truck door open. Justin stepped out into the severely lit day. Embracing his blanket like only Linus could.

“God he looks so pale.” Jen said. “Almost like he’s…sorry.” She looked over to me. We were both thinking it though. Justin’s head swiveled to the left and then up and over to his right and down again, almost like he was watching a monster serve that became an ace in a tennis match. “What’s he doing?” Jen asked.

I watched as a fly circled around and around Justin’s head. Terror mounted. Well my Marine Corps buddies were going to love this, big bad ass, afraid of a fly. What was going to be next? Was I going to be scared of the French? I watched as the fly did two more circuitous routes around his head and then landed on the very tip of his nose. Justin only stared down at it, never once unwrapping his hands from under the blanket to brush the thing away. My skin crawled with unseen, many legged bugs of varying size and color. “Okay everyone, I think it’s about time to go.” I shouted, never taking my eyes off the offending fly.