Mark Tufo - Zombie Fallout

“Dad, you all right back there?” Travis asked as his gun never wavered off the scene he was looking at.

“Ugh...” I started off brightly. “Yep.” I wanted to add more, but a large chunk of self-loathing was stuck in my throat.

We were close to exiting when Tracy hit the horn. It wasn’t a long blast, but it scared the crap out of me. This time I dropped the ladder, which rattled Travis. His gun fired, taking out a piece of meat still left on Mr. Department Manager who would never get the chance to realize his dream of mediocrity and middle management. Some of the shots peppered the little girl in the face. The pellets sank into the soft flesh of her face. Her left cheek sloughed off from the assault exposing tiny baby teeth stained red and encrusted with the gore of her meal. She rose to meet this new threat, and the sight left a lasting mark on me that still haunts most of my nights. In her right hand she dragged what appeared to be her dolly, a remnant from her past life. Did she just not have the mental capacity to let go of the dregs from her previous existence? Was there somewhere deep down in the nether-lands of her pillaged soul, some last hold out? I wanted to know.

Travis didn’t. He blew her head off. Her small body, adorned in possibly her favorite blue dress, stood for perhaps a heartbeat longer before she crumpled to the floor atop her last meal, still clutching the doll. For all intents and purposes, if you took the blood away it looked like a happy embrace between a father and his daughter. I launched something from my stomach. What it was I’ll never know because I was empty. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if I had hacked up a kidney.

Travis looked a little green around the gills but he wasn’t suffering the effects nearly as bad as I was. I stood back up, grabbed the ladder and headed out into the night. There was nothing more in there I EVER wanted to see again. I stepped down from the loading bay. The night seemed blindingly bright after the darkness we had just left, both literally and figuratively. Travis motioned with his gun to indicate what Tracy had beeped her horn about. Coming around the corner was a lone zombie. He was still a hundred yards away and didn’t seem like a huge threat at the moment, but I was getting the sneaky suspicion this was not going to end well. Tracy was gesturing wildly in the car.

“I know, we see it too,” I stage whispered to her. It amazed me that I was already starting to call them ‘ITS’ instead of ‘THEMS.’ “It” seemed such an impersonal word to describe what was once a human, but it was much easier this way.

I was extending the ladder out and preparing to stand it up when I heard a voice from above. No, unfortunately it wasn’t THAT voice from above.

“Dad!” Justin said, a little more loudly than I would have hoped. I looked up to acknowledge him. “We’re about to have some company,” he finished.

“Yeah, we saw it,” I replied as I struggled to get the ladder in position.

“Yeah, no,” came his cryptic reply. “I mean there’s about a dozen of them heading this way.”

A sweat broke out on my forehead and it was only partially because of the exertion. “How much time?” I grunted. The ladder was in place and it was a good ten feet short from the top.

“A couple of minutes at the most,” he riposted.

“Oh great! This just gets better and better!” was my response. Things just were not going as planned. And then I full out laughed. Maybe I was close to the edge, I don’t know, but it was a laugh I could have lost myself in. Who the hell PLANS for this! I finished with my semi-hysterical outbreak, thankful for the relief it spawned.

“Dad? You all right?” Justin asked.

“I’m as good as I’m going to get,” I retorted. “Get somebody, preferably two people to come and help you.”

He looked at me quizzically.

“They are going to have to lower you over the edge and you’re going to have to drop to the ladder.”

“No fu…” he started. “I mean NO way, that’s gotta be a twenty foot drop to the ladder, I’ll never make it.”

“It’s twelve feet max,” I told him. “You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know about this,” He hedged.

“Justin, we don’t have time to argue, you either get on the ladder within the next minute or so or we have to leave.” I forced the issue.

I could see Justin mentally began to weigh his choices. I wasn’t prepared to let him prioritize.

“Justin,” I started. “So I know you have beer and a pellet gun plus you have a safe haven.” I could see him nodding, he was thinking the same thing. Then I started with the negatives. “How much food do you have?” I asked.

“Food?” was his response.

“Yeah you know, the stuff you put in your mouth, chew and swallow,” I answered. I was being on the dickish side but I didn’t have time for diplomacy, the first zombie was within twenty yards and his teammates were now rounding the bend.

“Well Tommy has a box of ring dings and Bill has a power bar or two, and…” he reasoned.

‘Are you kidding me?’ I screamed in my brain. ‘Calm down, breathe, count to ten, scratch that, better make it five. One, two, three… .’

“Get some help now!” I demanded. “That FOOD won’t last the night. As for your safe haven, do you have any blankets or tents or stoves or ANYTHING that will keep you warm?”

He just kept looking at me like I was nuts.

“Justin, you guys won’t make it two nights up there; if you don’t die of the elements, you’ll die of dehydration in at most four days.”

“We have beer!” he said triumphantly.

“How long is your 30-pack going to last you? Through the night maybe,” I finished cynically.

“Dad, I’ve got to think about this, that’s a huge drop,” he responded.

“Okay fine, I’ll give you until…” I pulled up my sleeve to look at my nonexistent watch. “NOW! Get your ass down here.”

He still hesitated. If for a second I thought I could bridge the gap from the ladder to the roof, I would have done it, just so I could grab him by the ear and get him.

“Oh, shit,” Justin moaned, as he moved to align himself with the ladder and begin down.

“Get your friends to help you!” I yelled up. He was finally doing what I wanted him to do, just not in the manner in which I wanted it done; isn’t that about typical for teenagers.

“Um too late for that Dad,” he added as his legs swung over the edge. “They just broke through the door.”

I didn’t need any more clarification than that. “Give me a second while I secure the ladder.”

Justin let go of the roof just as I was attempting to secure the ladder’s footholds. Somewhere in my semi-panicked mode I heard distant screams, and then it sounded like the world was blowing up. Justin fell and entirely missed the first two rungs. The ladder clanged and swayed violently as he caught himself on the third rung, his feet swinging wildly. He almost lost his tentative grip on the ladder when the Mossberg let go with a three-round burst, which was impressive considering it was a pump action shotgun. The closest zombie lay in a heap; what was left of him wouldn’t feed a runway model. His backup, however, had swelled to around twenty, the first group was about sixty yards away and the second group had just come around the corner. We were about to have one humdinger of a get together. Justin was halfway down the ladder when I swung my attention back to him. I looked past him to notice the fat kid with the Butterfinger gun peering cautiously over the edge. I wanted to get Justin down and just plain haul ass out of here. But I couldn’t do it.

“Wait till Justin gets off the ladder, then swing your legs down. We’ll hold it steady,” I yelled. Justin looked up to see who I was talking to.