Authors: Mark Tufo
For the Fallen (22 page)
“They’ve never done that before,” Mrs. Deneaux said, not yet putting her still-smoking
revolver down.
“Now what?” Dennis asked.
“Ask him what he wants.” She stopped for a heartbeat…then she cackled.
“This shit funny to you? I almost died!” Dennis said angrily.
“Did you?” she asked calmly.
“Did I what?”
“Did you die? Because if you didn’t, you should just quit your bitching.”
Dennis didn’t know how to respond. He’d never met anyone quite like her, and for that
he was thankful. They went a little further, most of the zombies became distant memories;
a heroic few were still trying to keep up. Then there was the one right next to Dennis.
The zombie had finally stopped attempting the handle and was now smacking his hand
against the glass. The glass and Dennis jumped with every contact made.
“Roll down the window,” Mrs. Deneaux said.
“I’d rather not,” he replied even as he grasped the handle. “How far?”
“Far enough so he can stick his head in and take a bite out of your ass.”
“That’d be pretty far.”
She stopped to look at him. “Now I see why Michael may have enjoyed your company.”
Her voice was a little softer when she spoke again. “Far enough where I can blow his
ugly head off and not break the glass.”
Dennis unrolled the window half an inch. “I’ve seen you shoot, that should be plenty.”
She motioned with her gun-holding hand to go further. He was not happy that, with
every down turn of her hand motion, the missile launcher was pointed at his crotch.
He complied, quickly, knowing that nothing she did was without purpose. The window
was about a quarter of the way down. The zombie gripped the lip of the glass and was
trying to pull his head in.
“This is going to get messy,” she said as she pulled the trigger. An explosion of
gelatinous zombie material sprayed Dennis across his face and chest. He rolled the
window back up with his eyes closed.
“Use this.” She handed him some sort of cloth.
Mrs. Deneaux might not be his favorite person in the world, but she’d scored points
with that small gesture.
“You did well. Now let’s go find some gas.”
Dennis could only hope that would be easier than getting the hose, but he doubted
it.
“Bomb huh?” the leader asked as he came up next to the duo on the ground. He lightly
kicked the burst can, sugared beans spilled out.
“What?” Doc asked, trying to clear his eyes so he could get a better look at the ‘shot’
boy.
“He’s fine.” The man laughed. “My name is Captain Najarian. Most of what’s left of
my platoon just call me Cap.” He extended a hand to help Doc up. “The shooter is Corporal
Hildie. Her illegal fraternizing partner next to her is Lieutenant Butz. Just call
him ‘Buzz’ or he gets mad. This is my wife Dina,” he said, introducing the woman to
his right. “And then there’s Chaplin. We think he might be prior military, but since
he hasn’t said a word in the two months we’ve known him, we don’t have a clue.”
“I’m Doctor Baker and this here is Porkchop,” Doc said, still shaking from his earlier
encounter.
“Doctor as in physician? Or one of those PhD types with an advanced degree in like
astronomy?” Lt. Butz asked.
“While I do like astronomy, I am a practicing physician. Or at least I was.”
“You’re a pretty valuable commodity, Doc. What are you doing out here?” Cap asked.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Dina said, trying to comfort Porkchop over his fallen comrade.
“It’s a long story and we really must be going,” Doc said curtly. He did not want
to become another hostage for his services.
“That way?” Buzz asked. “Nothing but zombies up there.”
“This is Hildie…bring the ride,” the corporal said into a radio handset. He had not
noticed she was carrying a pack that housed the piece of electronic equipment.
“We can’t go with you,” Doc said, trying to find a way to extract himself. “I need
to find a safe place for Porkchop, and then I have some personal business to take
care of.”
“Doc, just come back with us. Look around…decide if it’s somewhere you’d like to stay.
You do a few things for us and then decide it’s not someplace you want to be, I’ll
outfit you with a ride and something better than a .38 snub-nose.”
Docs eyes grew wide. Dina was shushing Porkchop.
“Do it for him, Doc. It’s a safe place.”
“Camp Custer was a safe place,” Doc said.
“Whoooeee! You were at Camp Custer? We were getting ready to rendezvous there, by
the time we showed up, there wasn’t much left,” Buzz said. “Thing looked like it had
been plowed under, dead people and zombies everywhere. Shit was still burning, thousands
of birds were circling for meals.”
“Buzz! Dammit! I think he has a fair idea of what happened there,” The captain said
heatedly.
“Oh…sorry.”
“Buzz here is a Marine, they’re not known for their smarts,” Captain Najarian said.
Buzz smiled wanly. “At least let us get a better meal in you and your boy and pay
him back for that dead can of explosive beans.”
Doc nodded reluctantly. They weren’t going to let him go quite so easily anyway. The
‘ride’ was not a tank, half-track, or any other type of military truck for that matter.
A white mini-van pulled up. The driver, who did not look much older than Porkchop,
stepped out.
“Who are the newbies?” he asked.
“Doctor and his kid,” Hildie said.
“Sweet, get in. Your shot woke up a few of our dead friends, and I’m thinking they’re
going to want to crash this party.”
It was a tight fit. Porkchop seemed the happiest with the arrangement. He ended up
on Dina’s lap, which the doc found sort of amusing considering that the ‘boy’ was
bigger than her.
The captain turned from his seat in front. “Can you tell us what happened at the Camp,
Doc? We saw the trucks, but we can’t figure out who would attack and for what reason.”
“Do you have a psychiatrist wherever you’re taking me?” Doc asked.
“Got a school counselor,” Hildie replied. “Why?”
“Oh, you’re probably going to want to have me committed after I tell you the story
is all.”
The ride was shorter than Doc would have imagined. He was still relating his story
about the Camp, Eliza, the zombie-laden trucks, and then his subsequent capture and
torment when they arrived. Everyone was so enthralled they didn’t leave the small
confines until he was done.
“So you’re confident this Eliza was a true blood-sucking, soulless vampire?” Captain
Najarian asked.
“You don’t seem so surprised,” Doc said.
“We’ve heard about her, even captured a few truck drivers who seemed to be reluctant
to talk with us. And you think she’s dead now?”
Doc nodded. “Porkchop heard some of the men talking about it before they left. That
was, of course, after the zombies they were shipping around turned on them.”
“This is some weird shit. You believe him, Cap?” Buzz asked.
“I can assure you, if I was going to make something up, it would be far more believable,”
Doc said in his defense.
“I’m not a hundred percent sure I believe in who Eliza was, but those men did. We
have some people studying the vials she had them wearing to see if we can replicate
the effects they say they did,” The captain said.
“Oh…they worked. But without Eliza alive, I think they’re useless now,” Doc said.
“Convenient.” Buzz extradited himself from the minivan.
“Don’t mind him,” Hildie said. “Strong as an ox, loyal as a dog, dumb as a grape.
But I love him,” she said as she also got out.
“Come on, sweetie,” Dina said to Porkchop. “The mess hall makes the best peanut butter
and jelly sandwiches.”
Porkchop looked to Doc. Doc nodded. Porkchop’s face lit up. “I’m really kind of hungry,
the beans are great, but I always need to fart after I eat them and then sometimes
I fart so hard I’m afraid I’m going to crap my pants and I don’t have any other pants
to wear and I don’t want to walk around all day in crappy pants.”
“Yeah that
would
be crappy.” Dina laughed, Porkchop joined her. “Maybe I can find you some new pants
too…just in case.”
“I’d like that, as long as I don’t have to go into the dressing room. There’s always
girls in the ones around me and they laugh and giggle a lot, talking about this boy
and how that one kissed her and did these shoes make her look fat. How can shoes make
anyone look fat? Fat makes you look fat,” Porkchop entreated.
“No dressing rooms or shoe talk, I promise.” And then they were gone.
“Let’s get you cleaned up as well, Doc. You look like you’ve had a rough go off it.
I’m sorry about your family, I truly am,” He said. “One more thing, though, who is
Michael Talbot?”
