Mark Tufo - A Plague Upon Your Family

“That’s all I meant.” Mrs. Deneaux said. Her nephew did his best to quiet her.

But yet the back-up beeping persisted. “Come on.” I said desperately. “Alex has to be thinking the same thing we are.

“Brendon!” My daughter screamed, not from terror but from concern. “What are you doing?” Almost like a well-trained platoon, all of the occupants of the room took up strategic placement with Nicole by the windows. Brendon was on the top of the truck with a rope and some sort of makeshift grappling hook. It looked like a crow bar, but it was tough to tell from all the rope that was tied around it.

I saw immediately what Alex and Brendon had planned. “That’s not going to work.” I said to myself.

“What’s not going to work?” BT asked.

“Watch.” I answered. BT didn’t seem all too pleased with my response. I don’t think he was big on surprises either. Really I hoped that what they had planned would work but physics wasn’t on their side.

Brendon lowered the ‘grappling hook’ down to the cage assembly. After a couple of tries and some errant zombies getting in the way, Brendon was able to snag the cage. “Alright got it Alex, go slow!” He shouted over his shoulder. As Alex placed the truck in gear there was one long second where we all held our breaths as Brendon nearly took a header. Nicole nearly fainted. Brendon quickly righted himself and gave us all a weak smile to let us know he was okay. Alex pulled ahead slowly as Brendon let slack out of the rope. Finally the truck had gone far enough that the true test of this experiment would come to its unfulfilling conclusion. The end of the rope was tied off to the truck’s rear bumper, I didn’t gauge that as being the problem area that or the rope itself looked heavy enough to leash a T-Rex. No the problem lied in the grappling hook assembly, without a hole to thread the rope through, no knot was going to be able to stand up to the forces applied to it.

The loud ‘twang’ was immediately followed by a string of curses as Brendon nearly sacrificed his ear to a valiant but doomed attempt to free us. The rope had snapped back dangerously close to Brendon’s head as it slipped freely from the pry bar. The cage had rocked slightly and had tried in vain to prove me wrong.

“Plan B, Alex!” Brendon yelled.

We had no idea what plan B was, but they were usually a last ditch effort and they were never thought out well. Ever heard of a plan C? No you haven’t because nobody ever survives plan B.

“You guys are going to want to get away from the door!” Brendon yelled to us.

Nearly everyone looked at him like a deer in headlights, some backed up. I could only muster an “Oh fuck,” as Tracy dragged me away from the window.

Alex ground the truck into reverse, when he hit the cage at 5 miles per hour it sounded like Thor had taken his hammer to a mountaintop. Wood splintered and shattered as the bars were forced back through the office. Babies wailed, women cried. I might have pissed myself. I wasn’t stopping to check. The truck came to a sudden stop as the rear end ran into the stout walls of the sheriff’s office. The bars traveled mercifully another two feet before they came crashing into a desk, stopping all momentum. Dust and debris were settling all around us when a small round of cheers erupted and abruptly stopped with Brendon’s shouts of warning.

“Get the fuck in the truck. They’re going underneath!”

Who ‘they’ were, was implicitly known. Why they were going under the truck also didn’t need any further explanation. Marta and her two kids along with Jodi and Eddy plus Joann and the three kids she was taking care of were thrust to the forefront. I had watched Titanic. It’s always women and children first but Thad apparently hadn’t learned the chivalry lesson. He cut off the women and the children and headed for the rear of the tractor trailer where the open doors led into a black hole of relative safety. Thad had one foot on the bumper and one on the ground. I wanted to run up and grab the prick and beat some gallantry into him, when somebody (thing) beat me to it. Thad’s eyes grew wide in horror as a hand shot out from under the truck grabbing his ankle. I watched in (satisfactory) horror as he was pulled over. His head violently slammed into the ground as he lost balance. Could we have helped him? Maybe, but his selfish act actually turned into our salvation. Thad’s body became a wedge between us and them. We could hear his muffled screams. Thankfully it wasn’t too loud. I was certain that one of the third or fourth bites had ripped out his Adam’s apple. Marta and Joann stood transfixed, now was not the time for delay.

I ran ahead and made sure to get both feet on the rear bumper. “Come on!” I shouted. You don’t survive this long in a zombie apocalypse without having some quick-witted decision-making. For their part I was proud of Marta and Joann. Even as the strum of sinew snapped and bone was chewed, they moved forward thrusting their children up into my waiting arms. Within a minute almost all of the refugees were on aboard, save one, Mrs. Deneaux.

“Mrs. Deneaux, we’re leaving.” I said as I extended my hand out to her. She looked for a moment where her nephew had disappeared and where now heads and extended hands of zombies began to appear. “Now or never.”

She stepped on one of the zombie’s hands as she took my proffered hand. “Twit.” She said. Whether to me or to her newly dearly departed nephew I wasn’t sure.

I watched in dismay as the town of Vona and my beloved Jeep faded into the distance. Alex waited until we had outpaced even the most determined zombies before he pulled over. The relief in his face as he hugged his wife and kids was immeasurable. No matter how hard I tried though I couldn’t shake the feelings of foreboding. We had escaped this last disaster but at a significant loss of lives and materials and both were in very short supply.

CHAPTER 13

‘My Jeep.’ I mumbled as I hung my head low.

Joann came up to put an arm around me. “Thad sacrificed himself for us.” She said not realizing the true reasons for my demeanor.

I looked up, my eyes red rimmed. I swear I almost said, ‘Huh?’. She took my silence as agreement to her sentiment. Fuck him. He got what he deserved. If she needed to assimilate what she saw in a different light to suit her needs what right did I have to rain on her parade.

“Hey Mr. T, Ryan’s back.” Tommy said delightedly as he licked blueberry off his lips.

I almost didn’t hear him through my thoughts. I was actually in mourning for my Jeep, replaying some of the highlights I had shared with her. There were the hundreds of off-road excursions some nearly ending in both of our demises. There were the Saturday road trips with the top off and the time I had got caught in a torrential downpour. It was miserable back then but still it yielded me a bittersweet smile now.

“Mike, it’s only a car.” Tracy said placing her hand on my cheek, ever so slightly placing pressure on it to turn my gaze away from the direction we had left behind. She knew, she knew me probably too well.

“Is this how you felt, when I…I ruined your car?” I asked hopefully. Looking for an ally in my misery.

“Uh, no Mike, it was a car, not a kid. Get a grip.” She answered.

Ah my Tracy, she knew how to knock some much needed sense into me. I’ll miss that car till they lay me down to rest but at least I now know enough not to show it. “Wait. What?” I said turning towards Tommy.

“I said.” Tommy answered looking slightly exasperated, but which I knew was all show.

Was that strawberry jam on his chin?