Authors: Mark Tufo
“What the fuck are you doing?” I screamed at him. It wasn’t a quarter of the volume
of the still echoing cannon-shot.
“Getting any sand that was stuck in the truck bed loose.”
“It’s loose! Drop the damn thing!” I told him.
“He’s your brother,” BT said to me.
“Yeah, but we’re in this together,” I retorted.
“We’re alright,” Tommy replied. He was off in the far side of the yard and had one
hand cupped to his ear. He seemed to be listening for something none of the rest of
us could hear.
The resuming quiet once the truck was off had a calming effect. If man was ever able
to scrape himself up off the sidewalk, it was going to be difficult getting used to
our noise pollution again.
I went back into the office and rooted around until I found what I was looking for.
“Gary, give me a list of what you need,” I told him.
“I’d rather go with you in case I see things I could use.”
“You need to make sure that thing is mechanically sound. BT and I will go grab supplies.”
“Wonderful, do I get a say?” BT asked.
“No,” I told him forthrightly.
Gary was furiously working on his list like it was a timed event.
Tracy was giving me a decent version of stink eye.
“You can almost see the hardware store from here,” I told her. “It’s less than a mile.”
“Talbot, we’ve been over this before, I hate separating.”
I knew she was right. I’d been breaking the damn unwritten horror rule for pretty
much the entire invasion.
Never Split the Group!
Eventually, it was going to bite me in the ass. The town was quiet; there was no denying
that. I didn’t think it was because all of the zombies had gone on vacation though.
My guess was stasis, and as of yet, we had not discovered the giant lair. I felt like
a blind man walking down a street full of sinkholes; eventually I’d fall in.
“Fuck it, you know what? You’re right. I probably should take Gary so he can get exactly
what he needs. We can fit everything and everybody in the back of the truck.”
“Really? You’re really agreeing with me? Are you alright? Is the disease you have
terminal?” she asked in mock horror.
“I’m flexible,” I told her.
“Yeah, just like wrought iron,” BT said.
“Or ceramic,” Tracy added.
“Oh, that’s a good one,” BT said. “Because it’s brittle.”
“Kiss my ass. Gary, you think you can drive this thing without tossing the people
in the back all around?”
“I’ll give it a shot,” he said with a smile.
“Wow that is
so
not comforting.” I said.
Gary was driving, and of course Henry got to ride up in the cab. I put him up there
before I could get any objection from Tracy. Tracy went up there as well because,
after the big dog took up his space, she was really the only other one that could
fit. That left me and the boy’s club to hold on for dear life in the back of the truck.
I made sure we were all holding onto the edge of the bed as Gary pulled out. Even
completely expecting it, I almost did extensive damage to my dental work as my head
bobbed and almost slammed into the steel.
“He drives as good as you,” BT said, holding on for dear life.
Tommy was actually perched on the roof like an antenna; the swaying and jerking of
the truck having completely no effect on him as if he had his own internal gyroscope.
I noticed that his rifle was in his hands, and he was scanning the buildings as we
passed. It was not a comforting feeling. If he knew something, though, he wasn’t sharing.
Justin and Travis seemed to be enjoying the improvised carnival ride.
“What’s up with Tommy?” BT asked, nodding his head to where the boy was sitting.
I shrugged. I didn’t know. “He’s feeling a disturbance in the force.”
BT looked at me for a few seconds, a questioning furrow developing in his eyebrows.
“Is that a
Star Wars
reference? I told you, I’m not into that geek shit.”
“Geek shit?
Star Wars
changed my life.”
“Did it get you laid?”
“I was twelve when I saw it.”
“I’m talking later in life. Did you ever tell a woman you were a huge
Star Wars
nut and she just wanted to jump your bones?”
“Well, no, nothing quite like that.”
“Point made.” He smiled.
“So you equate life altering with getting laid?” I asked.
“Don’t you?”
I paused. For the second time that day, I’d been presented with an argument I could
not dispute. “Well, it was still a great movie,” I blustered, doing my best to save
face.
“Friggin’ nerds,” I thought I heard him mumble.
Unlike the rest of the town, the hardware store had been hit. The front windows were
smashed out and what looked like long ago dried blood was pooled up all over the front
sidewalk. From who or what was impossible to tell. The brown stains on the cement
were the only remnant left from what had happened.
“Tommy?” I asked.
He shrugged. Gary was idling in front, the sound echoing off the store and making
everything that much louder. Without any prompting from me, he shut the truck down.
The resulting quiet wasn’t any better.
I climbed up and over, placing my feet carefully as I descended down the side of the
truck, finally finding the tire. When I was confident I was not at an ankle turning
height, I jumped down. I immediately had my rifle at the ready. “We should have walked.”
I said taking stock of my bumps and bruises.
“Isn’t there another hardware store we can try?” Tracy asked as I came up alongside
her window.
“Probably, but I heard these guys were having a sale,” I told her as I advanced cautiously.
“I’ve got the coupons.” BT rushed to catch up.
“You guys should take your show on the road,” she replied.
Tommy slid down the roof and hood and silently landed next to us.
“Impressive,” I told him.
“I’ve been practicing.”
“For what, a
Starsky and Hutch
remake?” BT asked.
“You’re giving me shit about
Star Wars
and you like
Starsky and Hutch
?” I chided him.
“Now a 1975 souped-up Ford Gran Torino will get you laid,” he said, referring to the
car in the popular TV series. Again the bastard was right. “Can’t really drive an
Artoo unit around, now can you? And if you could, you sure couldn’t find room for
a date.”
“I liked it better when you didn’t like me,” I told him as I advanced on the store.
“What makes you think I like you now?”
“There are machetes in there,” Tommy said, brushing by us both.
“So?” I asked, following him. I wasn’t planning on visiting the rain forest anytime
soon.
Tommy had already entered the store. BT and I were hard-pressed to keep up.
“Take the sheath off,” Tommy said as he tossed me a large bladed machete. He didn’t
say it loud, but there was definitely a sense of urgency implied. He did the same
to BT.
BT looked over at me. I shrugged, but he was also ripping off the wrapping that protected
curious little kids from being able to wield a dangerous weapon. As all of you know,
‘child-proof’ applies to adults as well. I was struggling with the damn thing.
“Put your gun up,” Tommy said, rubbing his thumb along his now exposed blade and nodding
in satisfaction.
My first thought was to tell him to ‘fuck off’. Then I shouldered my rifle. Tommy
spun away from me.
“Oh fuck!” I said, hurriedly working on my blade as I peered down the aisle. A zombie
was peering at us, his head cocking from side to side like it was assessing something—or
more likely us.
“No shots,” Tommy said, getting into a defensive posture.
“What?” BT asked, finally looking up with a look of victory on his face for being
able to conquer the damned wrapping.
“How’d you do that so fast?” I asked, sweat breaking out on my brow.
“Because I’m not a…” And then he stopped. He must have caught a glimpse of the thing
looking at us. “Shit.”
I smacked the blade hard against a shelf, the force shattering the plastic wrap It
also had the un-added benefit of getting the zombie to move.
“Leave it to you, Talbot,” BT said, getting his blade up.
“I didn’t make him materialize.”
Tommy was swinging, and if not for the speed he possessed, I think the zombie would
have sideswiped the blade; as it was, it was pretty close. The blade clipped the top
of its head about an inch from the edge. The speed and the torque with which Tommy
delivered the blow sheared off the left side of its face. It fell away like a sliced
piece of bologna from a dropped package. Had I seen it in a movie I would have thought
the effect was as cool as hell. Live and personal, it was horrifically disturbing.
For the briefest of seconds the zombie just stood there, his brain, eye and teeth
all exposed on that side. Then he fell away, the weird part was he landed almost perfect
in conjunction with his sectioned face like he was trying to reattach it by proximity.
“Behind you,” Tommy breathed without actually looking.
I came up with the standard “Huh?” Luckily, BT had taken his morning coffee.
“Mike,” came his reply.
By the time I was turning, his blade was already in motion. He lodged his midway through
the zombie’s neck, the head lolling to the side. I wasn’t having the easiest time
with these disturbing images. There was a reason I didn’t like melee weapons.