Mark Tufo - Zombie Fallout

“Spindler?” he asked.

I shook my head subtly. There must have been something to the look in my eye because he didn’t press the issue. I had other things on my mind to contend with, the strange zombie woman being at the forefront. I would wait for tonight to speculate on that though. I quickly gave Jed an account of our run-in with Durgan and then waved one of the Little Turtle women over, Joann Orefice. She was the unofficial official welcome wagon.

“Hey Joann, we’ve got four newbies,” I began

“Three,” Thad stated firmly.

I looked his way. My eyebrows arched up as if to say ‘really?’

“Look,” he said. “She might not be the nicest person in the world but she’s family and she’s all I’ve got left. Don’t worry, I know where she lives.” He headed off into the twilight.

From zombies to Mrs. Deneaux, I was weighing the choices.

“Three then,” I finished.

Joann moved closer towards our small group. “Ohmigod.” She stopped short. “What is that smell?”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” I said, this was preferable to an explanation. But before I left I had to ask one question. “Beth, have we ever met before?”

She said ‘no’ half a beat too quick. Great, now I would spend half the night in a fruitless attempt to try to figure out where I knew her from.

Joann smiled and the two women began to talk animatedly. When B.T. stepped from behind the tractor-trailer, Joann looked up with a worrisome expression across her face.

I laughed a little. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless,” I yelled back as I added extra speed to my step to get the hell out of there.

I could hear Big Tiny growl behind me.

CHAPTER 10

Journal Entry - 10

I opened the front door to our home. Tommy was waiting by the door.

“Hey Tommy, how you doing bud?” I said, smiling at him. It was impossible not to, with his giant grin to match.

“Hey Mr. T, how you doing? Everything go all right?” he asked expectantly.

I had no wish to recap the horrific events of the day with Tommy, and he didn’t need to know either way. This was all just small talk anyway. I knew what he was fishing for.

“Yeah not so bad, bud,” I said as I pulled off my small rucksack. I thought for a second he was going to start dancing on his tippy-toes. That alone would have made the trip worthwhile.

“Hey Tommy, I found these while we were getting ready to leave,” I said nonchalantly as I tossed him a Yoo-Hoo and a Butterfinger. In all reality it was the first two items I had sought out.

“Thanks Mr. T!” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. It was a hug of the innocent, something that was going to be sorely missed in this brave new reality.

“Please call me Mike, Tommy.” I pleaded.

“Okay Mr. T,” he answered as he took a bite of his Butterfinger right next to my ear.

The noise was loud enough to startle Henry, who had been sleeping on the couch. The same couch I wasn’t allowed on if I even looked dirty.

I waited for Tommy to finish his Yoo-Hoo which he was gleefully slugging away on before I asked him a question that had been bothering me the better part of the day.

“Tommy,” I said. He looked up. “Do you have family?”

The merriment in his eyes clouded over in distress with the swiftness of a storm at 14,000 feet. I was sorry I had asked. If I had known the pain I was going to put the boy through I would have left it alone.

“My parents are dead, Mr. T,” he said solemnly.

With the finality and certainty with which he had answered I was wrongly under the impression that it had happened years ago in some tragic fashion, like a car accident or a building fire. I didn’t press. I had all the answer I wanted even though it wasn’t the right one.

But Tommy continued. “I sent a message and I haven’t heard anything back.”

I stared hard at him for a second straining to bring my thoughts back in focus, and then I let out a small whoosh through my teeth.

“Tommy that’s all right,” I said happily. “Cell phones are not working, they probably just didn’t get your message.”

I felt hopeful. I couldn’t stand the thought of this big happy-go-lucky kid being depressed. That would be like the sun wearing a veil. Tommy stared at me like I was going nuts.

“I don’t have a cell phone, Mr. T. I kept losing them so Mom said to save my money.”

I had a dozen questions I wanted to ask him but Tommy fixed all of his attention on his Butterfinger, as if to say in a passive aggressive manner that he was done discussing the matter. When I saw the sunshine come back into his eyes, I let it go. I walked into the kitchen, shaking my head a bit trying to get a grasp on the conversation Tommy and I had just had. I chalked up our miscommunication on intellectual lack. Mine, not his. I figured while I was heading this way I might as well get a kiss from Tracy.

“Get out of here,” she begged. “I could smell you coming! You’re going to make the food spoil.” And then she flicked a noodle at me.

“Yeah it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye,” I said dejectedly as I turned around to head upstairs and take a shower.

I took a shower hot enough to melt skin, well maybe only on a wax figurine, but it was still plenty hot. I toweled off and changed into some clothes that weren’t going to need to be destroyed. I caught the aroma of dinner cooking and it smelled heavenly, but the pull of my bed was stronger. You know how people say that they were asleep before they hit the pillow? I never believed a word of it, at least until tonight when it happened to me. Right behind sleep came the nightmares. I dreamed of my daughter (not Nicole, of course it was the woman in the field). She was wearing the tattered blue dress from the little girl at Wal-Mart. She was running to greet me. I had been away but couldn’t remember where I’d been. As she approached her mouth began to grow disproportionately to her size, and lined in the gigantic maw were razor sharp teeth. She kept getting closer. I wanted to scream but it was frozen in my throat. Spindler walked up beside me and asked, ‘Do you want me to cut her head off?’ I was shocked. He was holding a sword. I was nodding yes but mouthing ‘No…she’s my daughter.’

‘Wimp,’ he said as he walked away, twirling the blade in the air. I couldn’t peel my eyes away as I watched the blade twist faster and faster catching and reflecting the sunlight. (Weren’t we just inside?) The blade had ascended as far as it was going to go and began its long graceful descent. I shouted to Spindler, ‘Get out of the way!’

I distracted him long enough for the blade to do its work. I watched his head roll on the floor, trying to ascertain how so sharp of an instrument could leave such a jagged edge. I looked up at my daughter, who was not my daughter. She was right in front of me. Her breath was noxious as she stood eye to eye with me, although I knew she was at least a half-foot shorter than I was. Her arms reached out to grab my hands. I was frozen. I accepted her cold embrace.

‘Do you want to play?’

Nothing was frozen this time, I awoke screaming, but my distress was covered up by the sound of small arms fire.

Justin was halfway up the stairs when I got to the bedroom doorway.

“You get your brother and keep watch on the house,” I said to Justin. “And tell Brendon to get his boots on, me and him are going out to see what’s going on.” Justin was about to say something and I had a gist of what it was going to be. “No,” I shook my head. “You and Travis have had enough excitement for the day and I need to know your mom, sister and Tommy are safe.”