We were down to swinging and sticking things, on occasion even throwing punches and kicking. My worst nightmare was coming to fruition. Tommy had a tire iron that was shaped like an ‘x’ and was wielding it like a samurai. He was just about the only thing keeping us from being overrun. He would run around the truck to help out anyone who was in a mess. Something had clicked in Trip’s head; the man looked like a stiff breeze could blow him over, but he was swinging a piece of two-by-four like Babe Ruth. Stephanie had been fighting side-by-side with him, but after a couple of near misses she figured it was safer to get a little further away.
“This is the most intense game of Whack-A-Mole I’ve ever played!” he shouted at one point. “The prize had better be worth it!”
Tracy and Steph were keeping their corner of the truck bed free and clear. Tracy had an ax handle and Steph was copying her husband’s lead with the wood framing. Justin was in the corner opposite them, swatting at zombies with his rifle. Travis was next to him using a machete. Gary was next to Travis and they would switch off with other people in the truck as they got tired. BT, however, was my biggest concern. Here we were fighting off hundreds of zombies, and I couldn’t help but take glances at him from time to time. He would join in the fight for a few minutes and need to rest for double that time. He looked like the walking dead, and I mean that in the absolute worst way.
I would greatly mourn my friend’s passing when I got a quiet chance to do so. My concern now was that he was going to turn at any moment in that truck bed. Every time he hung his head down, I expected him to raise it up with that opaque glaze on his face. It would be my job to kill him before he could do any of us any harm; a job I did not take lightly. I noticed him more than once looking over at me, sometimes angrily, like maybe I should do him in now before he had the chance to cause harm. I think if he could have beaten his brains in himself, he would have done so.
I don’t know what the fuck I was waiting for, the man was spiraling down the drain. Where he was going to end up was a foregone conclusion. The one thing I noticed that got more nerve wracking the longer it went on was that every time BT stood and fought for a little while, he would invariably move closer to me when he sat down. Either he wanted to see if he could get a bite of me when he turned, or he wanted to make sure that I was the one that did him in when the change happened. Both scenarios sucked wet diarrhea-laden ass.
I had the front of the truck where the majority of zombies were making their push. It was the easiest access, and more than once I’d felt arms on me before Tommy would rush in and help push back the onslaught. I jammed that blade into more heads than I could count. I had a hard time believing zombies could even get enough traction to get up towards me. The front end of the truck looked like we had plowed into the decomposing body of a brachiosaurus; chunks of tissue along with gallons of blood covered every available surface. I’d slammed the front of my rifle against so many of them, I’m not sure that, if I even had bullets, I’d be able to take the chance and shoot any of them. The barrel looked slightly off skew, although some might say that’s just my natural perception of the world. Of course that was before my stock shattered and I switched weapons out.
My shoulders and forearms ached, and if I was hurting, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what the others were going through. Nobody said anything as they went dutifully and diligently about their business. Okay…except for Trip, who would sometimes yell out things like. “Double combo!” or “When are we going to play table shuffle-board?”
“Does he think we’re at Dave and Buster’s?” BT asked from right behind me.
He startled me. I didn’t know he had gotten so close. He was sitting, and his head was down. Sweat poured off his body in streams, it looked like he had a hose on him there was so much of it.
“It’s almost time, Mike,” he breathed out shallowly.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off and stop being so selfish, that maybe he should go jump into the crowd and save me the trouble of having to cave-in my best friend’s head. It would save me a lot of nightmares if I survived. Now who was being selfish? I couldn’t even pony up enough balls to give my friend the send-off he deserved.
“Fucking zombies!” I yelled, driving my machete into the nasal cavity of one and through the back of its skull.
I was pulling my knife blade back; I had to kick the zombie away to completely extract it from the steel, when I heard the chattering of gunfire.
“AKs?” BT asked.
“Sure sounds like it,” I said. The AK had a louder, heavier, more ominous sound than that of the M-16, which sounded like a chirping canary in comparison.
“I wonder if they’re as fucked as we are?” BT asked, looking up. That act alone seemed to drain him.
“Oh I doubt it. We’ve got some special sort of fuck going on up here,” I told him as I drove the point of my large knife into the front of a zombie woman’s forehead. I stirred the point around like I was performing a lobotomy for a second or two and then pulled out. The damage was done as she twitched and fell off to the side.
“Incoming!” Gary yelled.
I turned to see the telltale trail of smoke as someone had let loose an RPG. It smashed into a house not more than fifty feet from us—a house that had been surrounded by zombies that were waiting patiently to get to us.
“Who are these guys?” Trip asked. “How can they miss a giant plow in the middle of the roadway?”
I was wondering who the guys were as well. It had to be the same men that were in charge of the drone, but why go through all of this trouble? Who were we to them? They were obviously a remnant of the military, their equipment lending credence to that assumption. While I was playing twenty questions, pieces of the burning house were raining down among all of us, zombies and humans alike. It may have not been a death peel to the zombies, but it did, for at least a little while, take the main focus off of our small group. The zombies on the periphery started to send out patrols to see where this new threat and food source was. Not enough to make a difference in our small brutal corner of the world, but it was still comforting in its own right.
More gunfire came from our right, it wasn’t sustained, though. Whatever or whoever was out there, I was not getting the feeling that there were enough of them to make a difference. Which again began to raise the question: why bother? At this point, all they were really doing was wasting ammo and giving the other occupants of the truck some hope, even if it was of the false variety. And then another RPG slammed into a car not twenty feet from us. The truck swayed back and forth from the percussion.
“That’s it!” Trip yelled encouragingly. “You’re getting better!”
BT wrapped his face in his hands and shook slowly back and forth. “I truly thought you were as bad as it could get.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I told him.
I noticed Tracy leading Stephanie to the bench seat. The woman was so tired, I don’t even think her eyes were open as my wife helped her sit down. Justin was fading fast as well; most of his last few swings had looked like an arthritic ninety-year-old’s attempt. He was barely getting his gun past his hips.
“Justin, take a break!” I told him. He was no good to anybody that way. If even five minutes of sitting got him back in the game, then it was worth it.
***
“Sir, they’re dropping like flies,” Corporal Godson said into his handset. He had got into a house and was on the second floor looking down on the holdouts.
Lieutenant Barnes was about to call off the chopper. “Bitten?” he asked.
“I don’t think so, but three of them look like they’re out of the fight. The big black man, one of the women, and one of the younger men.”
“Are you certain they’re not bitten?” Barnes asked.
“I am, sir. I just think they’re exhausted. Not that they could, but no one is attending to wounds of any kind. I don’t see any blood. Something else isn’t quite right here as well, sir.”
“What is it, Godson?”
“Sir, two of the men, the way they’re fighting, it just doesn’t look…I don’t know, it doesn’t look natural. It’s too quick. I feel like I’m watching those old time films where the speed was off and everything was moving faster than it should, especially the younger of the two. Are we sure we want to pick them up?”
“Scared of a few civilians?” Barnes asked.
“These ones I am,” he said, making sure he was not depressing the send button.
***
I saw it before I heard it. It was a Huey helicopter, something I’d gone for many a ride in during my Corps days. Were we the subject of the extraction, or were the men that were shooting around us the chosen few? Although that made no sense, they could have left on their own volition at any time. Chain-fire erupted from the side of the Huey as it sought position over us. Between the blades slicing through the air, and the bullets slicing through the zombies, it was impossible to hear anything. The rescue sled that was being lowered left little doubt of their intentions though.
“Justin!” I had to scream as loud as my throat was capable. When I realized he had heard me, I pointed to him then the basket. ‘You first,’ I mouthed. He shook his head and pointed to BT.
‘You!’ I mouthed and pointed angrily.
There was a good chance that, if I sent BT up there first, they would roll him out the chopper on the other side once they saw the condition he was in. I needed someone up there to fight for his safety. Plus, he was looking more and more of a liability the longer he stayed down here. I was concerned for his safety as well. The basket took an agonizingly long time to descend. I swear the more they dropped the bucket, the higher the copter went. Plus, the backwash from the rotors was no easy thing to contend with. It blew everything into the air and, invariably, the eyes of all of us.
“Looks like my helicopter!” Trip yelled.
I wanted to tell him ‘No it didn’t, this one was still airborne.’
I looked up in time to see the winch operator. He was making a two with his fingers.
“Justin, grab Stephanie!” I screamed.
She was shaking her head side to side when Justin grabbed her shoulder.
“Get your fucking ass up there!” I screeched. “The longer you delay, the more danger we’re in!”
She looked at me like I had stomped on a brood of kittens, but at least she went—albeit reluctantly. I can’t say I blame her. I’m sure that on more than one occasion Trip had taken her up in his Tonka toy. And now she had a respectful fear of anything that even remotely resembled it. I think I celebrated another birthday by the time the basket made it down again.
“BT, you’re up!” I told him.
“Not before Tracy and Travis,” he said as loudly as he could, which wasn’t that voluminous.
“You’re taking my other kid up,” I told him.
This was killing BT, but he dutifully grabbed Henry and got into the basket. Henry was like a board in BT’s arms, I don’t think the big dog was enjoying the ride. Then, upon closer inspection, I realized both BT and Henry were petrified. The duo were peering off into the horizon on some fixed spot, neither looking down at the horrendous scene below them. I thought it was kind of funny. Not that I’d say anything to BT about it…ever.
The basket began its third descent. This was where it was going to get interesting. Everyone that was left now was one less person manning the walls, so to speak.
“Travis, grab your mom!” I yelled, using a middleman as a buffer.
I knew Tracy would agree to this as much as she did that one time I tried to buy a cow. And not a butchered one, either. Long story short, we never did get Bessie. Hey, what pseudo prepper doesn’t think about getting some livestock? Her argument was that we only had a fifteen-by-fifteen foot yard at the time. Always the pragmatist; or is it realist?
She gave a half-hearted fight, but she was exhausted and knew she was only moments away from collapsing as it was. I was thrilled when they were halfway up. No matter what happened now, the majority of my family was safe. It now came down to Gary, Tommy, Trip, and me to hold down the fort. Maybe not the optimum fighting force, but I was happy to be alongside them nonetheless.
“When do the tickets come out?” Trip asked, taking a moment to look into the side cutout in hopes that the prize redeeming coupons would begin to spit through. “I should be able to get a huge teddy bear after this game!”
“Gary, you and Trip next!” I yelled.
“What about you and Tommy?” he asked breathlessly.
“We’ve got this,” I told him wearily. “Right?” I asked Tommy.
He nodded at me grimly.
By the time the bucket was down again, it nearly came down on Trip’s head, he and Gary had been pushed back that far by the zombies. I cut in front of them, creating the room they would need to get up into the air.
***
“These guys are phenomenal,” Barnes said, more to himself as he looked through his binoculars. “No wonder they’re still alive.”
“Keep an eye on the two that are still in the truck, sir,” the corporal said. “If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t believe it. He spins that tire iron like it’s on a sprocket, and when it hits, I swear he goes halfway into the skull. And the older guy, he looks like he could be prior military because he knows how to use his weapon, but he’s just too fast. I can’t think of any other way to explain it. He shouldn’t be moving with that much ease.”
“Definitely interesting.” The Lieutenant watched the two try to keep the converging zombies at bay. “We got anything that can help them?”
“We’re low on everything, sir. Plus, we’d like to save a little for the ride home in case we encounter any trouble ourselves.”
“Hate to see them fall now. I can’t imagine they’ll make it, though.” He put down his glasses as zombies broke over every part of the truck bed. The two men left were now fighting back to back.
***
“Odds?” I asked when Tommy’s back met mine.
“Odds? As in the chances we’ll make it?”
“Yeah.”
“You want to know what odds I would be giving on whether or not we survive? That’s kind of inappropriate,” he said.
“Not as much as mirrors on shoes.”
“Please tell me you haven’t done that.”
“No,” I told him. “I could never get the angle right and the glue wouldn’t hold. Plus, I mean, unless you tack on some good-sized pieces of reflective glass, what are you really going to be able to see?”
The mounted thirty cal in the helo opened up again, but it was blowing zombies away too far from us to be of any immediate help. The basket finally made its way down to us. Unfortunately it was a good five feet and half a dozen zombies from our present location. It would be a life or death struggle just to get there.
Tommy had a much better weapon for the close-quarter combat we now found ourselves in, and unlike me, he looked like he had another couple of hours left in him. It was getting to the point where I could barely drive my blade through the skull plate anymore. It was much more jarring to the arms than one might imagine. I was slogging through the bodies of two dead zombies by the time I reached the basket. Tommy was inches from me; the basket began its ascent.
“Going up, lingerie, jewelry, perfume,” I told him, hoping that the levity would break the spell of despair I was feeling even in the midst of a rescue.
Tommy jumped easily enough, the basket swaying drunkenly. He kicked out a few times, taking out some of the more rambunctious zombies that appeared to want to go for an aerial joyride themselves. We were about halfway up; the operator was guiding the cable onto the winch. I don’t know what it was, but something didn’t seem right, another crewman kept looking out over at us, but none of my family. I at least expected Trip to wave or something, or for Tracy to make sure I made it safely on board. I could only reason that they’d been made to strap themselves in and were telling them about our progress. I still didn’t see that working on Tracy…or Trip for that matter.
We were three-quarters up as that second crewman peeked out again. Tommy looked over at me, I shrugged. He didn’t appear to like my response. Hands reached out and grabbed me just as the basket was coming even with the skids of the helicopter. My eyes immediately went to BT as I stood and was being helped in. The big man was passed out on a stretcher. That was not a shock. It was when I panned around and noticed that everyone was passed out. I instinctively pulled back.
“Michael Talbot?” the man asked.
“Uh…yeah,” I answered, still looking at my entire family.
It was then that the second crewman came up by my side. I felt rather than saw the prick of a needle going deep into my neck. I reached out and grabbed his windpipe, slowly constricting his airflow as I applied more pressure.
“What’s going on here?” I asked. Whatever he had hit me with was already beginning to take effect as his image blurred and multiplied. All three of him were rapidly turning red as I kept squeezing.
I felt another needle on the side from the man that was working the cable. Tommy and the basket were just coming even with the opening to the craft. He saw as the second needle plunged into my neck and I would imagine, the status of everyone. His face twisted into a mask of anger as he grabbed the man that hit me the second time. He picked him up and threw him hard against the cockpit wall. The man slumped down. Two others that looked like Marines trained their weapons on Tommy. Before either of them could react Tommy hit the release on the basket; cable spun freely as he and the sled plummeted to the ground.
“Grab him!” someone shouted.
I thought they were talking about Tommy until I felt hands roughly grasp my arms and shoulders, dragging me the rest of the way into the helicopter before I rolled out and down. I was unconscious before I felt the hands leave me.
***
Lieutenant Barnes watched as the basket and the young man fell from the helicopter. “Dipshit air jockeys,” he said as his heart skipped a beat. It was always difficult to watch someone die, and the more he saw, the worse it got. “Can’t even pull off a simple rescue mission without killing someone. Alright, Godson, get everyone on the same page. We’re out of here.”
“We going to see if the kid is alright?” Godson asked.
“He just fell a hundred feet out of a helicopter into the waiting arms of several hundred zombies. I’m going to say the outcome is predetermined on this one. Let’s saddle up and get out of here.”
Barnes’ radio crackled and came to life. “Pounder Four, Pounder Four, this is Wing Six, standby for orders.”
“Shit, looks like we’re going in after all,” Barnes said.
“Pounder Four, this is Captain Emery. Do you still have an RPG?” he asked.
“Hello, Captain, this is Lieutenant Barnes, we’ve got one round left. You want us to go in and save the boy?”
“Negative, Lieutenant, I want you to put a round into that truck.”
Barnes didn’t say anything. He couldn’t figure out the reasoning for the action.
“You still there, Lieutenant?”
“Uh…yes, sir, I think our last communication got garbled. I thought you said to light up the truck.”
“You heard right. Put a round in the truck…now.”
Godson was looking over at Barnes, he mouthed ‘Why?’
“Lieutenant, put a round in that truck now or we will fire on your position.”
“How about I just put the round in your ass,” Barnes shot back. “Be a lot easier for me to hit a nice easy non-moving target like yourselves with a rocket.”
“We’ll talk when you get back,” the captain said. The helicopter rose a little more and got to the side of the plow. Thirty caliber machine gun rounds plowed into the truck, shredding everything in and around it. By the time the gas tank was struck and ignited, nothing was living in a ten-foot perimeter of the DPW truck.
“Should I shoot him down?” Godson asked. He had grabbed the RPG and had it by his side.
“Normally I’d say yes, but he has all those civilians onboard. Just because Emery is an asshole doesn’t mean they deserve to die.”
A plume of flame erupted from the truck. The helicopter turned and the gunner was now pointing in the lieutenant’s direction.
Godson shoulder mounted the tube and flipped the safety off.
“One damn round comes this way, blow that motherfucker out of the sky,” the lieutenant said.
“With pleasure, sir.”
Godson centered the helicopter in his sights. The last time he’d had such an easy flying target had been on the practice range a few years back. The copter would never be able to maneuver fast enough to get away from the rocket-propelled grenade. He’d feel slightly bad for the civvies, but they were nameless, faceless people to him right now. Tough to have nightmares about people you didn’t even know.
The helicopter abruptly veered to the left and made a hasty departure.
“Ought to be a fun night on the base tonight,” Barnes said. “Alright, let’s try this again, round everyone up and let’s get the hell out of here.”
“I could still take them out,” Godson replied.
Barnes thought about it for a moment. In the fog of war, all sorts of stuff went down that was never explained, and not too many people would miss Emery.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather break that aristocratic nose of his with my fist instead.”
Godson put the weapon on safe and quickly put it away without any more thought to the fact that he had his finger on the trigger of twelve human lives, and more importantly—in his opinion—one dog.
***
My head was splitting when I awoke. A harsh light from the ceiling shone down and, of course, directly into my eyes. I sat up slowly knowing to do it any faster would cause a serious case of vertigo. Sometimes it was alright to be a little older; at least I knew the limitations of my body.
“Tommy!?” I called out, sitting bolt upright quickly despite the pain. Last I had seen, he was plummeting to the ground. What had happened to me, to my family? It was then I realized I was in a cell. For just the briefest of moments I imagined that it was padded and everything that had happened that early December day last year was the result of some psychosis. I’d finally snapped and had been living a nightmare of zombies and vampires ever since. Typical Talbot shit, though. Why couldn’t I get lost in a world of Hooters girls and unicorns? Nope, I had to go right for the shit storm. When I realized I wasn’t in a straightjacket, holding on desperately to crayons, I got up to further inspect where I was.
“Hey, Mike,” I heard off to my right. I whipped my head so fast it took the blinding white headache a second or two to catch up, but when it did, it took twice that long to be able to focus on the person in the cell next to mine.
“Wags?” I fairly sobbed. “Is that you?” I moved quickly to the heavy iron bars that separated us. I stuck my hand out and wrapped it around Dennis’ head. “It’s so good to see you, man. Have you seen the rest of my family?”
“No, I don’t know where they are...they don’t let me get out much.”
I wasn’t feeling all peachy-keen, but if they’d wanted us dead, they had ample opportunity to have done so. “How’s your family?” I asked. His hangdog expression said everything. “I’m sorry, man.” I quickly moved on. “What are you doing here? Were you ‘rescued’ too?” I asked with the air quotes. “They don’t even know me and they already stuck me in jail. I mean, sure, once they get to know me, they’d probably figure out this is where I belong, but not yet. I should at least get the benefit of the doubt.”
“My only crime is hitchhiking,” he told me.
“Huh?”
“I was on my way up to Ron’s when my car broke down. I flagged down this old bitch in a semi. One look at her and I knew I should have just walked away. I was desperate, though.”
My worry over my family’s safety began to compound on itself as I waited for him to give me an answer I already knew.
“The lady is one of the craziest, meanest snakes I’d ever come across,” he continued.
“Yeah, that would be Deneaux,” I said.
He paused for a moment as he raced to catch up to how I knew.
“Makes sense,” he said. “Is what she said about your family and Paul true?” he asked. When he realized that I had no way of knowing what she’d said, he added, “That they’re all dead.”
“We’ve taken some losses,” I said, not wanting to go into detail. They were all still too fresh.
“Paul?” he asked.
I nodded. “And I don’t know how yet, but I know that bitch had something to do with it. I was going to beat it out of her, but she slipped through my hands and right into the arms of the enemy. She pulled a Benedict Arnold when she thought she could shake a better deal. If it’s not for the betterment of Vivian Deneaux, don’t expect any help.”
“Wish I’d read that pamphlet before I got in the truck.” Dennis replied.
“Maybe they should have had a film in our Health class back in school. Right after the Birds-and-the-Bees flick, they could have had one entitled Deneaux and Deception.”
“Or maybe Vicious Vivian: How to avoid a deadly strike.”
“I like that one. Do you know anything about this place?” I asked.
“Not much. I know it’s a military base of some kind. I’ve heard some of the guards say something about the Demesne Group, but that means nothing to me. How about you?”
I shrugged my shoulders; it meant nothing to me either.
“That’s really it. Deneaux comes down once a day; I think just to torment me. She talks a lot without really saying all that much. I get the feeling she’s somewhat afraid here, but by the way the guards act around her, I think they’re the ones who are scared.”
“Naw, she must have power here, that’s why the grunts are afraid. It’s at the higher echelons where the shit is getting a little stickier. I wonder if she knows I’m here? I’d love to wrap my hands around her scrawny little wrinkly neck.”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Dennis said with a crooked smile.
“How long have I been here?” I asked, my pounding head once again making its presence known.
“Five…six hours maybe. They said you’d be out until tomorrow when they dropped you off.”
“I’m glad you didn’t try to take advantage of me.”
“Bars were in the way.”
“What is going on here? Makes absolutely no sense,” I said. Just then, we heard the distinctive sound of a heavy lock being opened and the clanging of a metal door as it opened wide and struck something.
“You smell fried chicken?” Dennis asked me.
And I did. “Porkchop?” I asked when the poultry-wielding boy stepped in front of my cell.
“Want some?” he asked, sticking his hand out about halfway, looking more like he hoped I would refuse his generous offer.
“No, it’s alright--I haven’t eaten in about two days,” I told him. “What are you doing here? Where’s…Doc! Oh my God, it is so good to see you.” I came up quickly to the bars. Porkchop backed up just in case it was a ruse for me to grab the chicken.
“Michael,” he answered coolly as he approached. “Where’s Tomas?” Doc asked in that same grave manner.
“Not here,” I answered, trying to understand what was going on.
“You were with him?” It was phrased as a question, but that he already knew the answer was not in doubt.
“I was.”
“Could you have killed him?”
“Probably not,” I told him in all sincerity. Anything short of a second coming wouldn’t kill him, I figured.
“He killed my family,” Doc said with vacant eyes.
“I’m sorry, Doc. I loved them as well,” I said, reaching out gently. My hand brushed against his arm before he backed up and out of reach, sticking his forearm out to block Porkchop from me as well.
“What are you now, Michael?” the doctor once again asked a question he already knew the answer to.
“What the hell does that mean?” Dennis asked.
“How many families have you killed, Michael?” the doc asked me.
“Mike, what’s he talking about?” Dennis asked again.
“Mister, have some chicken,” Porkchop said, sticking a half-eaten wing through Dennis’ bars. It was clear this conversation was upsetting him.
“So it is true; you both do know each other. What a strange little world we find ourselves in,” Doc said. “So much of what comes out of her mouth is a falsehood that it’s difficult pulling the slivers of truth from the myriad of lies.”
“Is that why I’m in this cell? Because she knows I’m here? Is she somehow running this place? What is this place? Where is my family? BT?” I was rapid-firing questions at him, none of which he seemed to want to answer…at least at first.
The doc smiled a little. “No, she doesn’t know you’re here. I do hope I’m around when she finds out, though. Seems she has a deep-rooted hatred for you.”
“I did nothing but repeatedly save that old bitter bitch’s life. Let us out of here, Doc, let me get to my family.”
“Your family is fine. Apparently you’re a better guardian than I am, Michael. Somehow you were able to kill Eliza where I failed.”
“Technically it was Tracy,” I said.
“Who’d Tracy kill?” Dennis asked. “The vampire chick?”
“You going to eat that?” Porkchop asked Dennis who was now holding a piece of chicken that he had seemingly forgotten about or never realized was there in the first place.
“I watched my whole family die. Butchered like farm animals really, and that traveling partner of yours drank them all.”
“Mike, what the fuck?” Dennis asked. “That shit about the vampires Deneaux was telling me, that was real? I thought she was full of shit or at least a butt-load of Vicodin.”
“I’m sorry, Doc, I truly am. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need to get me out of here. I’ve got to get to my family and BT needs help,” I said, ignoring Dennis.
“BT is dead,” the doc said, looking hard at me.
I staggered away from the bars as if I’d been punched in the solar plexus from the very man…nay, the friend that had died. My world was spinning, I watched as Porkchop looked up to the doc and then to me.
“The giant man?” Porkchop asked. “He’s okay. He was asking about you, Mr. Talbot,” Porkchop said.
“What?” I asked, my eyes filled with salty tears.
“Hurts, doesn’t it, Michael, when you realize that people you care for are dead. That small sample you just had is what I feel every waking moment. It never ceases, I see their accusation each and every time Eliza slices their throats…their cries of betrayal as I sit there, impotent to do anything. She made me watch as the blood flowed out of them. As their light of life left them, it left me as well, I’m an empty well inside.” The Doc said.
“You’re right, Doc, I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through. And maybe I’m selfish, because I never want to have to go through what you’ve been through,” I said, truly empathizing with the man.
“Lawrence is responding well to the drugs. He was my first human trial. We weren’t quite ready for that stage, but it didn’t appear he was going to wait,” Doc said, slipping from destroyed married man and father into the successful doctor persona.
If changing between the two roles is what kept him sane and operational, who the hell was I to say anything.
“Is he cured?” I asked, hoping.
“Not yet, but I believe that with aggressive treatment, he will be. I believe it will take a combination of drugs and radiation. Your grandfather made that intuitive leap almost a hundred years ago. The key is to hit them hard and fast or the virus adapts surprisingly well.”
“And Justin?” I asked, swallowing hard.
“We should be weeks away from human test trials and I did not want to endanger him unless it becomes absolutely necessary, like it was with Lawrence.”
“What about the shots that you were giving him?”
“I’m afraid those may have done more harm than good,” he said. “The parasitic virus that now runs through him will be surprisingly immune to a lot of what we will attempt.”
“Is there a chance?” I asked.
“There is…but it’s significantly less than BT’s.”
“Thank you, Doc.” I rested my head against the bars, letting the new information soak in. When I opened my eyes, Doc was staring intently at me.
“I’ve been working on a way to kill Tomas,” he said, matter-of-factly. And with those last unsettling words to me, he turned. “Come on Porkchop, it’s time for your lessons.”
“I’ll tell Henry you said hi,” Porkchop whispered loudly to me.
“Thank you,” I nearly sobbed.
“Mike, any chance you want to tell me what’s going on?” Dennis asked.
“Not-fucking-really,” I answered. “Sorry, man. Alright, here’s the short version. Zombie apocalypse starts. This crazy zombie-slash-vampire chick decides I’m at the top of her shit list. Her half-vampire brother Tomas, with Ryan Seacrest as his spirit guide decides he’s going to do his best to protect us. We end up on this roof fighting for our lives and it comes down to Tomas, infecting me with vampire blood so that I can beat down this über-asshole named Durgan. Yada, yada, yada, I lose my soul, win the fight. Huge battle with Eliza and her minions, which we win, and now I’m on a quest to get my friend BT who was bitten and Justin who was scratched cured somehow.”
Dennis’ eyes were huge. “Dude, did you just ‘yada, yada, yada’ me with the zombie apocalypse?”
“Dude, listen, I know there’s enough holes in that story you could fly a plane through. I promise if we get out of this I’ll relate the whole thing. Plus I have a bunch of journals you can read. Just don’t let Tracy see them. Right now, though, I’ve got to figure a way out of here.”
Dennis’ eyes were still huge, and now his mouth had dropped.
“You’re going to start drooling soon,” I told him.
Once again we heard the door open down at the end of the hall. I pulled back from the bars and deeper into the dark cell. I could smell the smoke from here. I retreated even deeper into my cell.
“Hello, Dennis,” Mrs. Deneaux said in that oh-so-familiar raspy voice. “I brought you something.” She placed a small flask on the floor and pushed it through the bottom of the bars.
Dennis turned towards her, his earlier facial expression not changing all that much.
“What’s the matter with you?” Mrs. Deneaux asked, a large swirl of smog around her head. “I can be nice from time to time.”
“Oh, I doubt it,” I said, coming forward. I’ve got to admit it was extremely satisfying watching her stagger back, although the bitch recovered faster than humping rabbits.
“Michael? It’s so good to see you,” she said before spinning and quickly retreating.
“I’m going to take your cigarettes,” I yelled down at her.
Bitch got spunk, had to admit that. She flipped me off.
***
Vivian entered Dixon’s office. “Why did you not tell me you had apprehended Michael Talbot?” she demanded, interrupting the conversation between Dixon and Captain Najarian
“That will be all, Captain,” Dixon said. “Vivian, so good to see you.”
“Cut the shit, Dixon. What is he doing here, and why wasn’t I told?”
“Vivian, it was a military operation. There was no need for you to know. And as for the reason why he is here, think about it, Viv. The man possesses the opportunity for immortality within the confines of his blood and body.”
“He’s not going to just give it to you, Dixon.”
“Oh but he has. The lab is already working with the five vials they pulled from him while he was knocked out.”
“Then kill him, Dixon. Kill him if you already have what you need.”
“In time, Vivian, in time. There are still many things we can learn from him.”
“He is dangerous and resourceful, Dixon. If given the opportunity, he will bring this place down.”
“I did not realize you had a flair for the dramatic, Vivian. This is a military base with hundreds of military personnel and weaponry, I’m not overly concerned.” Dixon laughed.
“You should be.”
“We also have his family.”
“You have the Talbots here?” she asked, pointing to the floor.
“Yes, Vivian. You act as if we let sharks loose in a fish tank. This Talbot will not do anything if he believes it could harm his family.”
“You’ve got it wrong, Dixon, he will do something because you are threatening his family. Kill them, kill them all.”
“I’m not a murderer of women and children, Vivian,” he said indignantly.
“Oh…NOW you decide to employ a moral compass. Little late for that, don’t you think? I’m going to pack so that when this goes to hell, which it will, I’ll be able to leave that much quicker. I should have stayed on Michael’s side,” Mrs. Deneaux said sadly as she walked out of Dixon’s office.
Dixon shook his head as she left. “Age has tempered her resolve.”