Zombie Fallout 4: The End Has Come and Gone (20 page)

"I guess for now, this place is a little bigger than I'd like it to be, but as far as defending against zombies our only real concern would be the front door. We picked up some canned goods while we were out, so food will be a non-issue for a few days. What the hell, I say we hunker down for a bit, recharge our batteries, and let Wonder Boy over there finish up his zombie stopper,” Paul finished off by pointing over towards MJ.

"Will she let him?" Alex indicated April, who was nearly tripping over her tongue as she hovered around MJ.

"It's kind of funny the 180 he's done since he first laid eyes on her. The more she talks the less interested he becomes. April has yet to figure that equation out. She rambles on like a meth-head at a rave. All that beauty and not an iota of brain to go with it,” Paul laughed.

"Meth-head at a rave? That gives me a headache just thinking about it. I like the idea of resting for a few days. I don’t, however, like the idea of my wife being the human equivalent of a cell phone. And I'm having a hard time reconciling how close in proximity Tomas' message was to Justin's.” "It does make for some interesting pondering, I'll give you that. But I'm telling you Mike would no sooner tell his kids about his drug experiences than he would tell his wife about his sexual exploits.” "Oooh, I get your point.” Alex cringed just thinking about how that conversation would go do with his own betrothed. He inadvertently covered his testicles.

"Yeah, pretty much just like that,” Paul said, catching the involuntary motion.

"We wait then.” Alex rose from his chair and headed back down the aisle to where his wife was resting.

Paul headed back to the front doors. “I'll keep a watch out,” he told Joann, who was all too happy to let him.

"Storm's brewing.” She pointed up to the blackening shroud of clouds.

"Sure is,” he told her. ‘And I don't think it’s the only one,’ he thought. ‘Hurry up Mike.’

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
– Talbot Journal Entry 10

I drove most of that day alternating between looking at the road and readjusting my rear view mirror to keep an eye on Justin. This was a dangerous game we played with a lethal enemy; it was the equivalent of playing with a Black Mamba and seeing if we could inject the anti-venom before the neurotoxin had an opportunity to stop the beating heart. Justin noticed me looking on occasion when he wasn't resting. I saw no sign of the duality from before the shots, but he still did not look well. The expense of that call might not have been worth it, even AT&T in their heyday didn't charge that much.

"I'll be fine, Dad,” Justin said as he smiled weakly. “And stop looking at me, you’re kind of giving me the creeps.” "All right, but you let me know if you need anything,” I told him as I adjusted the mirror back to its intended view of the road behind me.

"Who is Easter Evans?" Travis asked.

"What?" I asked him back.

"The sign right there says welcome to
Virginia
, home of Easter Evans,” he clarified.

We almost passed it by, it was your standard State sign, but painted very neatly below it was ‘Home of Easter Evans.’ This wasn't your standard issue graffiti, someone had taken painstaking detail to make this look as professional as possible, and I didn’t like it. Anyone that thought themselves important enough to make sure everyone knew about them was not anyone I wanted to know.

"I don’t like it Mike,”
Gary
said.

"It's just a sign,” I said, half convincingly.

"Yeah, so is that.” He pointed to a much different ‘sign’ a few hundred feet further down the road. Hanging from a highway exit sign were the bodies of three people.

"What does that sign say?" I asked, squinting my eyes to try and get a better look. I knew it wasn't going to be anything good. I mean it wasn't going to say, ‘These were very bad people that did very bad things.’

Gary
pulled out a small pair of binoculars. “Sinners, it says sinners.” Well, maybe I was wrong. It actually did kind of say what I thought it might. Now the question was what kind of sins did Easter Evans think were hanging offenses. You would have to step very far out of bounds with me to get that type of response, but who knows if Easter might be of the ilk that thought chewing gum was a hanging offense.

"I think I would like to go
around
Virginia ,” Gary said conversationally as he put the binoculars back in their case.

"Great idea, can't afford the time delay though,” I told him.

"Figured you'd say that,” as he put his seatbelt on.

Travis took the lead from his uncle and did the same.

"Could you get Justin's?" I asked Travis as I strapped myself in.

"Kind of like a Bible Belt.”
Gary
tugged on his harness to make sure it was secure.

I drove slowly as we approached the bodies hanging above us. I hoped that they were zombies, that would almost make sense. Not that the zombies cared, it wouldn't be much of a deterrent for them but it would somehow still make sense. I stopped the truck within a few feet of the swaying dead people, one of which looked like a woman, or was merely a victim of crows dining on its tenderloins. I walked completely around looking for head wounds.

The bodies were bloated and blackened from exposure to the elements but they were still intact enough to tell that there were no gunshots to any of these poor souls’ heads.

"Mike, any reason why you wanted to stop? This isn't really a photo-op,”
Gary stated nervously.

"Was trying to see if they were zombies or not.”

"And?"

"Not so much.”

"Even more reason that we should probably get going.”

"My sentiments exactly,” I told my brother.

"Still planning on going through
Virginia
?" he asked.

I didn’t answer him as I put the truck in drive.

It wasn't five minutes later that we became the victims of a rolling blockade. Cars, trucks, vans and SUV's poured in from the off ramps on our right and left. Trucks that were bigger and cars that were faster, and all of them were packed with Easter's true believers. Apparently Easter thought very well of arming his flock so when the first car pulled up alongside and a mutton chopped man pointed to the side of the road, I saw no way out that didn’t involve a lot of carnage, a great amount which would occur in our truck.

"Turn the truck off,” came Mutton's voice as he pulled alongside. “If you could be so kind as to hand the keys to Brother Wilkinson, I would greatly appreciate it.” "Well he sure sounds nice,”
Gary
said. “I'm thinking West Virginia would have been a lot better state to go through though.” "I think I would have to agree with you,” I said as I handed over to the keys to the guy who I could only assume was Brother Wilkinson. A small platoon of cars and trucks completely encircled us. The scene in the Godfather with Sonny at the toll booth was going through my head. I could only hope that these people had good aim. I didn’t want to dance around like a marionette as I was riddled with bullets.

"Now friend,” Mutton started up again. “I would like for you to put all of your weapons outside of your truck.” Gary
was imperceptibly shaking his head in the negative. “I'd rather go out like the Bon Jovi song.” I looked at him questioningly then asked, “What? ‘Livin’ on a Prayer?’"

"No dumbass, ‘In a Blaze of Glory.’”

"Great.”

"Dad, what are we gonna do?" Travis asked, not nervously, but if we were going to start shooting it needed to be sooner rather than later.

The people outside were starting to tense up also. If anything was going to happen it was within these next few crucial seconds. I took a second to look at Justin's peaceful sleeping face, at Travis, and then my brother. “Not this time guys.” "You sure you know what you’re doing Mike?"
Gary
asked me with a false smile on for our onlookers.

"Of course not,” I told him softly. I opened my door slowly; fingers on triggers applied an ounce more of pressure. “Nobody get happy fingers on us, I'm putting our guns outside.” "Hold,” Mutton said through a strained smile.

Within another minute the four of us were up against the car and getting a more thorough pat down. I felt it was good news that they hadn’t just opened fire.

"All clear, Father Easter,” Mutton said as we were allowed to turn from our ‘assume the position’ stance.

A stately man of about 60 came out from one of the cars in the back; it looked like a Caddy but I didn’t have the best angle. He was dressed all in black with a hat which was in direct contrast to his shock of white hair and beard. He looked like any pastor might down in the South, almost affable, but his eyes belied him. His true nature he could not hide, his eyes burned with what? Insanity? Rage? Tyranny? All of the above?

"Good day citizens,” he said politely as he approached. “What kind of man be ye?" He asked
Gary .

"I'm not sure of the answer, sir,”
Gary
told him honestly.

"Well!" Easter boomed. “Do you walk in the light of the Lord or do you not!"

"I would like to think I walk in the light,”
Gary
told him.

Gary
tensed as Easter placed his hand on
Gary 's chest. I didn't know what was happening but I didn't friggen’ like it.

"Pious!" Easter shouted.

"Praise be to God!" His followers shouted.

He next touched Travis and repeated the same word, followed immediately by the chorus.

"And you?" he said as he got so close I could smell his tobacco laced breath.

"I have strayed from the path on occasion, but only to see what lay in the shade. Always was I within the reach of the light.” "Praise be to God brother, it is better to have lost one's way and found the path back to righteousness. It shows true character.” Easter placed his hand on my chest. I felt damn near the same sensation when I first picked up Eliza's locket. A small current of energy coursed through me. His hand stayed there moments longer than it had on Gary and Travis combined. He looked me in the eyes before he spoke. “I see that you walk with one foot in the light and one foot in the dark, Mr. Talbot.” "How do you know my name?"

"Be quiet son. I am divining your nature. You have a darkness in you that you have warred with valiantly to keep at bay. I think that someday you will lose this battle, but for now, I will grant you the chance to keep fighting. Pious!" he shouted.

"Praise be to God,” rang out around us.

"Can we go now?" I asked Easter.

"Perhaps,” he said, eyeing Justin suspiciously, “The boy is not well?" It was phrased as a question but the answer was evident.

Justin nearly fell backwards as did Easter when the divining touch was made.

"Seize them!" Easter said as he struggled to get his breath. “This one is marked!" Mutton and two other men closed in.

"Wait, please!" I shouted before the situation spiraled even further downhill. “He's my son, he needs help.” "Nothing that a short rope on a tall tree won’t cure,” Brother Wilkinson sneered.

"Easter, he's just a boy,” I pleaded.

He had not yet fully recovered from his encounter. “And yet he is stained deeply. He cannot continue to exist. He is an abomination!"

"You yourself just called the three of us pious men. Would we so willingly align with the darkness?"

"Evil can take on a great many forms. Most cannot see it until it is too late and it has led us very far from our path. It can bring even the mightiest among us to our knees.” A bunch of “Amens” and “Hallejulahs” rang out.

"What if we,” I said, pointing to Gary, Travis and myself, “as men of righteousness, what if we are using the evil within him...” Justin's face sagged, I felt sorry for bruising his feelings but our literal necks were on the line. “…to serve a higher purpose.” I don’t think we had won anyone over, but Easter was at least pondering my suggestion.

"You three may go forward,” Easter said, "and I will attempt to exorcize the demons from the boy. If I can, he will be allowed to live among us until you return or he wishes to go after you.” "And if that doesn’t work?"