Mark Tufo - A Plague Upon Your Family

Within a minute we had armed ourselves and got into the back of the truck. My concern lied in the fact of how was I going to pick up Tracy’s pieces of broken soul when she discovered her mother was gone. Oh and gone I hoped she was. If we found her eaten body or worse yet her as zombie, I didn’t know how the Talbots would be able to muster on. The cold reddened Tracy’s features but even that couldn’t compare to the red in her eyes. Tommy was busy wetting his fingertips and smoothing back an invisible cowlick, as if trying to make himself presentable. Well of all the signs he could be portraying that was one of the better ones. As we jostled our way up the yard, I wasn’t convinced we were still on the driveway as the splashes of blood became more pronounced. But it wasn’t just blood, I noticed a boot sticking up in one of the piles. In another was an outstretched hand. It sort of reminded me of a sapling struggling for light. I would have shot it if I really thought it was going to take root.

One thing I could tell was, there hadn’t really been a battle here. Some of the bodies had been out for a lot longer than the others. There was one that aside from a tuft of hair sticking up, I would have never known was there. The blood had been completely covered with subsequent snowfall. A few were fresh, and that could only mean one thing, there was something here worth trying to eat.

My sight was brought to the fore by movement. Someone had arisen out of a chair and was standing on the porch and even from this distance I could tell that they had one mean mother of a breech-loading shotgun at the ready.

Tracy shocked me as she yelled out. “Mom!?”

I wanted to say something about her giving us away but the roar of the truck engine as it struggled to cut through the snow could probably be heard for miles in this new, quiet world. Come to think of it, I was never ever going to miss the sound of a jackhammer at 7:33 in the morning on a Saturday. The shape of the person on the porch had the consistency of someone’s grandmother but the majority of my focus was on that ten-gauge shotgun. We were close enough that if that person started to shoot slugs we’d be able to count ourselves among the other lawn ornaments.

I banged on the roof of the truck for Jen to stop.

She looked out her window. “What’s up Mike?”

“Stop the truck and kill the engine.” I told her.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” She asked.

“Nope.” I answered truthfully, the truck engine simmered to a stop. The pinging of the heated motor the only sound to break up the muffled day.

“Mom?!” Tracy yelled out again.

Nothing, no response. Only the steady unwavering double barrel of a large caliber shotgun. After a few seconds the barrel dipped imperceptibly.

“Tracy?!” Came the tremulous reply.

That was it. Tracy was down off the bed of the truck and running at full tilt. Which really wasn’t all that fast when you’re knee deep in snow. I banged on the roof of the truck again.

“Wagon’s forward!” I yelled and gestured. Don’t ask me why, seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Tracy was PISSED OFF when we passed her on by, and even more so when Jen had nearly blocked off the entire porch entrance. As she caught up to us, her passing glance was so cold it burned my face.

“Mike?” Carol asked.

“Hey mom.” I said as I jumped down off the bed of the truck.

Tracy had rushed full tilt into her mother’s arms, there was some crying and sobbing and some general tear jerking and I think that Carol and Tracy might have also blubbered, wasn’t sure, couldn’t see through the haze of salty water. Must have sat on my keys again.

I joined in the small huddle, God she smelled like chocolate chip cookies, how do Grandmother’s do that? “We brought you something.” I told her. “It’s Jeff Daniels.” I said needlessly, the shape of the paper bag gave away the contents. Kind of like trying to gift wrap a bike, why bother.

“Jack Daniels?” Carol asked.

Tommy had come down off the truck and was watching the reunion. “That’s what he said.” With a tone that implied we all must have gone over the edge.

Carol gasped as she looked at Tommy. “You’re the one from my dreams.”

Tommy looked perplexed. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about Gran Y.” He said.

“Sure you do. You’re the one that likes those little flavored shingles in the foil packs.”

Tommy looked aghast. “Pop-tarts aren’t shingles Gran Y.”

I thought I was going to have to catch Carol from falling when she saw all three kids.

“Oh my God! I prayed for this day! I never thought that you would all make it.” She was openly crying. Yeah I was too, so sue me. “Come here! Come here!” she motioned to them all. Our group huddle was ungainly, but it felt so right.

“Oh my God, mom, we never thought...” Tracy hitched.

“Me?” Carol laughed. I’m too tough an old bird for them. Not sure if they even got by Big Bertha here.” She said shaking her shotgun. “That they’d even want me.” She laughed again. “I’ve spent damn near my entire life on this farm. I’m as tough as the soil daddy used to try and cull crops from.” She laughed again.

I couldn’t help myself. I hugged her again. I was having a heavy estrogen flow day.

“You smell just like cookies.” I told her out loud.

“That’s because I’m making some. Don’t look so surprised, Tommy told me you were coming. Of course, I didn’t believe him at first. I thought it might be the onset of advanced Alzheimer’s or maybe schizophrenia or maybe even just plain old loneliness but I figured what the hell, might as well be ready. Oh and by the way Tommy.” She said stopping to look at him.

Had we told her his name? I didn’t think so.

Carol continued. “I didn’t have any gummy bears to put in with the chocolate chips.”

Tommy handed her a bag of gummy bears from his pocket. Was it coincidence? Now Tommy is usually a walking pantry to begin with but he didn’t even hesitate when he reached into one of his many hidden storage compartments.

Carol took the bag as if she had been expecting this. “Great I’ll put them in with the next batch.”

“You have power Carol?” I asked her.

“Gotta be pretty self sufficient when you live this far in the outskirts. See any power lines, city boy. The generator is in the barn.”

I waited until she went back into the house before I did a complete 360 scan of the area. No poles. I did a little happy dance as I realized I was going to take a hot shower tonight.

“What’s the matter Talbot?” BT asked as Jen and Travis helped him up the steps. “Gotta pee.”

Except for being a few shades paler than he oughta be. The big man looked pretty good. This was turning out to be a pretty good fucking day and I was about to eat some chocolate chip cookies!

Tommy was already through the door. I could hear mock slapping as Carol was trying to shoo him away from her cookie sheet.

“Wait until I at least get them off the tray, you’ll burn yourself.” Carol shouted at him. Tommy hovered over her like a News helicopter at a crash scene.

Seeing her grandmother had reignited a spark within Nicole’s eyes. The sadness was still there but it had been layered over a little, with love. And that was how people survived. They moved on. The bleeding, gaping wound, slowly became infused with coagulants and then the bleeding would trickle to a stop. The flesh would scab over and slowly begin to knot itself together and eventually the scab would fall off leaving fresh shiny puckered skin. That would in time eventually fade to a scar. It would be something you would be able to remember the pain of your entire life and you would always have the reminder. But it no longer consumed the resources of the body anymore to heal it.