Mark Tufo - A Plague Upon Your Family

“Talbot, are you going to check to see if the door is open?”

The question was reasonable. My reaction was not. All of a sudden the thought of vacating the relative safety of our rolling arsenal seemed like the worst idea ever presented. Damn her logic! I was going to suggest that I’d pull up to the front door and she could give it a quick yank, but we all know how well that would have gone over. I even began to form the arguments in my head like ‘I’ll stay behind the wheel and you can hop in so we can get away fast.’ Or ‘Have you ever seen how bad you drive a stick?’ or even better ‘You’re smaller so they won’t want to eat you as bad.’ Dammit “Sounds great, can’t wait,” I forced through a Cheshire cat smile. I pulled onto the gravel parking lot. The crunch of small stones under my tires set a flock of ravens into flight. ‘Oh pissa. That doesn’t seem too ominous.’ I thought sarcastically.

“Trav can you hand me the .357?” I asked.

He checked to make sure the cylinder was loaded. “You want me to come with you dad?”

The answer was obviously yes, but I had already had this battle once with Tracy and she was not about to go 0-2. “No.” I gulped out. I could feel some of the tension in Tracy drain out. “Grab the AR and cover my retreat if needed.” I didn’t want him using the shotgun, the last thing I wanted to do was pull buckshot out of my ass. I looked over to Tommy again, hoping for some divine intervention, nothing, no last minute stay of execution from the governor. He shrugged in response. I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the Jeep, the cold wind whipped across my face. I sucked in a shock of super frigid breath, my exhalation leaving a long plume. It was five purposeful strides to the front door of the sheriff’s office. I did it in 15 small cautious ones. ‘Be locked, be locked, be locked!’ The handle turned quietly, the door silently slid open. The pea soup murkiness inside the jail was broken only by ribbons of light that streamed in through the dusty windows. Dust lazily swirled about in those rays of sun. The smell was intense. I staggered back. Tracy had got into the driver’s seat and Travis stepped out to get a clearer shot.

I jumped when she yelled. “What is it?”

Well if they didn’t know we were here, they do now. I did not turn my head away from the door to respond. “It smells like Henry after a bean burrito.” It was kind of funny I think, Tracy actually turned green with the olfactory thought of that. We had only been removed from the stench for less than a day and this was not something you quickly forgot. “Death.”

“Get in, let’s go.” She said nervously.

I loved the suggestion, but when I wasn’t immediately attacked I let curiosity get the better of me. Plus being the gun nut that I am, I figured we could get all sorts of new armaments from here. “Hey pull up here and turn the lights on.”

“Are you serious? I think we should just go.” She replied.

“You’re probably right, but come over here anyway.” Travis walked alongside the Jeep constantly scanning for problems. Tommy nervously stared through the window, but not the front. He was looking back the way we had come. Whether he sensed something coming or wished we were heading back, he never said. Tracy pulled up closer, the headlights perfectly straddling the sides of the office door, lighting up the outside wall perfectly, and the inside, well not so much. “Um, could you maybe back up and get one of the headlights to shine into the door way?” I asked as nicely as possible.

“You didn’t say that’s what you wanted.” She shot back.

If I ever wanted to have relations with my wife again it was abundantly clear to me that I was going to have to not say what had bubbled to the top of my brain plate. “Yep you’re right.” I struggled to get out in a civil tone. When did ‘common sense’ not become a common virtue? I hope to God she never reads these journals.

She backed up with a jerk, the Jeep stalling. Ok this is about the time in any classic horror movie where the monster makes itself known. I jumped a measure or two when she turned the ignition over, the reverberation of the catching engine off the wall drowned out all other sound. This should be it. I tensed. A hand, a mouth, a bite, something should be happening soon.

“Oops.” Tracy said out the window.

That was pretty much the sentiment I had when I thought I had messed my underwear. Again these aren’t proud moments. I’m not some action movie star with stand-in stunt doubles, or a character on an Xbox360. I don’t get multiple retakes or extra lives. This life is a one shot deal, something goes wrong and I can’t hit ‘reset’.

Tracy repositioned the Jeep, the one headlight cutting through the dark. The small office was mostly lit up but I still imagined the worst lurking in the musty corners. To the right was a desk with a small wilted plant on top. Most likely the chair once seated a cheery older heavy-set woman. The receptionist would have known everyone and their mother in this one car town. Beyond her desk was the door to the town sheriff’s office, how did I know this? Well the door said ‘Sheriff’ making that thought fairly self-explanatory. For the life of me, I could not get the image of ‘Andy’ from Mayberry out of my head. As long as Barney Fife didn’t show up everything should be fine. A half empty gun rack stood against the left side, it looked like the sheriff hadn’t been caught completely off guard. I imagined him dying in the line of duty to protect those he served. I didn’t know him and never would but he was a hero as far as I was concerned. My attention was brought back to the rear of the office. Back there were the holding cells. I could see the heavyset metal bars but nothing more, the light from the Jeep penetrated only that far, as if what lay beyond had decided it did not yet want to yield its secret. Whatever the secret was it was definitely the source of the stink. What kind of survivalist was I? I didn’t even have a flashlight with me. Shouldn’t be too big of a problem though, I walked over to where the gun case was and grabbed one of the two remaining utility belts. The heavy weight of the club like flashlight felt comforting in my hand, I hoped that the 4 D cell batteries that powered the potential bludgeon still held juice. Like any smart person in my predicament, I made sure the light was pointing right in my eyes when I turned it on. Nothing like a case of temporary blindness to get your adrenaline running, I immediately pulled the light away and swung it from side to side praying that I was in time to stop whatever was hurtling my way. The smash as glass struck floor brought Travis running through the door. The loss of light as he stepped in front of the headlight pitched the room back into darkness. Unless our would-be assailant was a desk lamp or hiding on the ceiling (where the flashlight was pointed) we were going to make it through the next couple of minutes. I wonder if John Wayne ever had these moments.

“You alright dad? What’s going on?” Travis asked as he stepped completely into the room as he realized that he was blocking the light source.

I was alright, that much was true, but how to answer the second part, that was a little trickier. Did I lie and tell him that I was fending off legions of the living dead? I still carried some semblance of pride in me. I would lose any salvageability of that woeful human trait if I told him that I had inadvertently blinded myself and then damn near shit myself as I knocked over a lamp in my haste to thwart an as yet unseen enemy. Nope lying seemed the best course of action. Pride would stay intact. Integrity would have to take one for the team. “Saw a bat.”

Travis looked up completely unconvinced he looked back over at me.