'Til Death Do Us Part (60 page)

“
Then there
’
s my oldest brother Ron.
He’s
all that a big brother should be, alwa
ys looking out for his siblings—
sometimes more than we would care for
,
but always appreciated. I know he
’
s kind of grooming himself to become patriarch of the family as our dad passes the torch
,
but I
’
m not sure if he
’
s relishing it right now. The stress of keeping your family safe weighs heavy. He
’
s married to Nancy, great lady
,
she can make a can of beets into a
soufflé.
Don’t
ask me how, it
’
s like fucking magic.
”

Azile snorted.

“
They have four kids, Mela
nie, Meredith, Melissa and Mark.
Melanie hasn
’
t been heard from since after the first day of the invasion.
Ron went and looked for her once
,
and so did
Meredith—
both times
almost compound
ing
the disaster. Then there
’
s my brother Gary, he
’
s a twin with my brother Glenn who again we haven
’
t heard from since the start. I have my reasons to believe he
’
s since passed. Gary is the free spirit of t
he group.
Of
all the people I
’
ve ever met in my life, he
’
s easily the most comfortable in his own skin and some of that passes off to you when you
’
re around him.
There
’
s my sister Lyndsey.
She
could easily make cheerleading an occupation. She
’
s not that crazy bubbly
‘
rah
!
R
ah
!’ crap.
She
just genuinely enjoys life and lets everyone know about it. She
’
s married to Steve, kind of a reserved man, almost as quiet as my sister
is
talkative.
T
hey have a son Jesse, good kid
,
always willing to lend a hand.

“
Then there
’
s my
wife Tracy, the love of my life,
”
I said with what I imagine was a faraway stare.
“
I cannot wait to
hold her in my arms.
This
time I will never let go. She is my strength and the reason I continue on when all seems lost.
”

“
She sounds ver
y special.
You’re
lucky.
”

“
She is and I am, and she lets me know it at every opportunity.
”

“
That
’
s funny, do you have kids?
”
s
he asked.

I let out an involuntary gasp of air, just thinking of my kids knocked the air out of my solar plexus.
Why the fuck did I risk my life on this journey wh
en I should have been with them?

“
I do,
”
I continued when I thought I had composed myself enough.
“
My oldest, Nicole
,
is pregnant
.
Her
fiancé
Brendan died saving my stu
pid ass from another of my hair-
brained ideas. I guess that
’
s not entirely fair
,
he
had been bitten before he came…
long story that I have no desire to revisit. My daughter
reminds me so much of my wife.
I hope that someday she
’
s able to raise a family with a man that is deserving of her. My middle son Just
in
is a good kid, hell of a shot, he would do anything for anybody
, he
’
s had a tough go during this whole thing.
”

“
How so?
”

“
He was scratched by a zombie.
”

“
He lived? I
’
m sorry was that callous?
”

“
That
’
s alright
,
and yes
,
he
’
s alive
. I
t was touch and go for a while
,
and a lot of the time he had to battle constantly to hold onto himself. Eliza invaded his thoughts and sometimes he didn
’
t even know which team he was playing for.
T
hen my youngest
,
Travis, it
’
s hard for me to see him any older than the
seven-year-
old boy that he was when we would build Lego castles together. But that boy has got me out of more scrapes than I care to count. Sometimes I
’
m afraid this world is going to harden him to a brittle shell of himself and at other times the scared boy shows through. Well that
’
s the
condensed version of my family,
”
I told her as I wrapped up.
I really didn
’
t want to dwell on it anymore.
I still had to contend with telling my father th
at I had no idea where Gary was.
Last
I had seen him he was alive
,
and that was at the point in which I was going to stop pondering his fate. There was no way BT would let anything happen to him.

My thoughts turned sour instantly as I began to think of the
loss of my lifelong friend Paul.
I had always considered him my fourth brother and his death was a tangible hurt. I could touch it, it had so much presence. How I was going to walk in that house and tell his wife Erin was beyond me, the tears cascading down my face would be all she needed to know as I hugged her.
There would never be a reason why I would tell her
how
he had met his fate. And what of Cindy and Perla
? T
hey would always hold me responsible for what happe
ned to their significant others;
no matter that I had nearly begged them
not
to come with me. Much like I had asked Azile, maybe I should just kick her out of the truck, or better yet
,
maybe I should just hop out. No, that wouldn
’
t work
. S
he knew where the convoy was going.

I was still thinking as the uncaring sun began its descent on the horizon. It had shined when the earth
was nothing more than a caustic stew of magma.
It
had shined down for hundreds of milli
ons of years as dinosaurs ruled.
It
had heralded in the dawn of man and it would once again rise on our plunge into extinction. Zombies would be the dominant predator for a while
,
but if the tree huggers thought the average man was an earth destroyer
,
they would change that tune after the stripping of life the zombies incurred.
As horrible a beast as they were, why they weren
’
t cannibals was beyond me.
Did
they have that modicum of a moral compass?
I sat up quickly when
that
thought came to my head.

“
What?
”
Azile asked. It look
ed like I had taken her out of a state of
road hypnosis.

“
You look half asleep.
”

“
I
’
m fine,
”
s
he replied while also stifling a yawn.

“
It
’
s not going to do us any good
if you crash. Find a good spot.
I
’
ll take the first shift while you get some sleep.
”

She looked like she was going to protest, but that was right before her next yawn.
“
Sounds good. We
’
re going to need some diesel soon
,
too.
”

“
I hate gas stations.
”

“
We
’
ll worry about it in the morning.
”

“
Oh I can guarantee I
’
ll worry about it all night,
”
I told her as she pulled off the highway. It looked li
ke some sort of industrial park and
she found the oldest
,
dilapidated piece
of
corrugated crap to park behind.
Seemed
perfect for what we wanted
,
but on the flip side
,
it looked like the setting for
ninety percent
of every horror movie.
It
was four stories of scrap metal;
meth heads would have avoid
ed the thing it was so far gone—
even they had standards.
Sleep would not
easily
be forthcoming.

It wasn
’
t three minutes after the engine noise stopped echoing through the abandoned building when I heard
the rhythmic breathing of Azile.
I
’
m glad she pulled over when she did. There was a slice of moon i
n the otherwise cloudless night;
the stars were beginning to make themselves known
,
although I did not think they would honor my wish. My gaze alternated between the brilliance of the nig
ht sky and that damned building.
The
broken windows with panes of glass hanging out of them looked like eager jagged teeth that wanted nothing more than to kill what was left inside of me.
I heard a bottle skitter along a concrete floor somewhere within the structure. I peered at the windows
,
willing myself to evolve a few millennia further when man could finally see in the dark. It wasn
’
t working.
T
hen
I fell into the trap that every—and I mean EVERY—
person in movies, literature
,
and real life situation
s fall
into.

I waited and expected more noise, another hint or clue to w
hat had made the original sound.
When
it was not forthcoming I tried m
y best to rationalize it away, r
easoning that it was most likely a rat, or the wind, or even a ghost. But never once thinking that it was truly what it was, something out to kill us. Wouldn
’
t something with nefarious reasons that had just given itself away with some blundering move, immediately try to become a black
hole of sound? Unmoving, ultra-
cautious? It only made sense.

How many times have you been in bed, and in the middle of the night you had been awoken by an une
xplainable sound?
You sit up
rapidly;
your heart is crashing against your breast plate. You struggle to adjust your vision to your surroundings. Alert for danger from any quarter, ears trying to pick up the minutest of sounds. When you realize that the threat is not immediate
,
you begin to relax, s
tarting to find rational causes: the over-stacked dishes in the
sink toppling, the dog knocking over the trash can
,
maybe even a particularly heavy gust of wind causing the drapes to push over a lamp.
Never once believing it to be the man right outside you
r bedroom door holding an eight-inch curved blade, but
he
’
s patient, he knows he should have been more careful when he knocked the family picture off the small table in the hallway.

He
’
ll wait until he hears your soft snores before he slowly turns the handle on your bedroom door, when he hits that creaking floorboard right next to your bed, it
’
ll be to late as you catch a glimpse of the steel glinting in the sliver of moonlight shining through your window as the blade is drilled into your neck, severing you carotid artery. Screams will escape you as he places his gloved hand over your mouth. Thoughts of your children in their rooms will fleet through your mind as your life slides away.