Zombie Fallout 4: The End Has Come and Gone (31 page)

We were generally doing what all Marines do, grousing and complaining. That was, of course, until we began to hear the chatter of small arms fire. The heavy staccato bursts of the AK’s were unmistakable. This was no drill, the North Koreans were firing. The trucks came to an abrupt halt and the tail gate was slammed down by the corporal that was at the rear of the truck.

“OUT!” came the cry from Sergeant who had moments before been in the shotgun seat. “Keep your heads down or I’ll write your mothers and tell them you died a coward!” “Nice guy,” the
M
arine behind me said.

I laughed if only to still the screaming terrified kid in my head.

The exodus was semi-organized right up until rounds began to ping off the front of the truck, then it became a free-for-all. I almost met my demise as I was pushed from behind just as I approached the exit, almost landing on my head. The only thing that saved my ass was the M
arine that had spoken up earlier.

“Thanks man,” I told him in earnest.

“You’d do the same.” Those were the last words Corporal Meera said as his chest puffed out. The high velocity 7.62 round broke through his back and out his sternum, passing between my arm and my chest. I was able to catch and break his fall as I twisted out of the truck, landing on the soft dirt below.

“Medic!” I shouted as a blossom of blood spread and soaked his entire torso. Blood spewed from his mouth as his ruptured lungs drowned in the viscous fluid. A haunted look came over his eyes as he looked at me. He tried to say something, but between the lack of air in his lungs and the blood in his throat, it wasn’t going to happen. It was the smell that stuck with me all these years. It was a rich earthy smell, the iron of his blood burned into my olfactory senses. I will forever associate that smell with death, the wounded do not bleed like that. The medic came just as Meera took his final tortured breath. Thankfully he closed those eyes that I thought might have held a hint of an accusatory stare. Was my stumble enough to delay him? I would dwell upon it at times, but I have come to learn that there is no great manifest destiny, there is no universal order. Chaos will always reign supreme. There is no more order to the world than the falling of a leaf in a stiff fall breeze. That it will fall eventually is a truth, but which route it will take and where it will fall are the great mysteries that evade us all.

This almost forgotten buried memory broke free from the shackled recess it had hidden in for many a years as the earthy smell once again assailed my nostrils.

“You alright Talbot? You’re looking a little frothy,” BT asked, coming up beside me.

“Old memory my friend that I really wish had stayed where it was hidden.”

“There’s nothing here
to worry about
Mike. Why don’t you go see how Perla is doing?” he said, placing his hand on my back.

I found Perla in the back seat of
Tracy
’s car. She had Henry on her lap and tears were streaming down her face.

“Who would do that?” she asked me. Well actually she never did look up at me as I approached. She could have just as easily been asking Henry.

“Hey Perla,” I said.

She looked up and stared for a moment. “I think you look as bad as I do,” she smiled softly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure I look way worse,” I told her.

She smiled again, “Thank you for that,” as she buried her face again in Henry’s neck. “You know, this just might be the best dog ever,” she said as she squeezed him tight. Henry turned and licked her forearm.

“You’re probably right,” I told her as I stroked Henry’s huge head. We all turned as the large diesel engine of the ladder truck roared to life. The front of the truck poked its head from the fire station, splatters of a much darker red staining the majority of the vehicle. My mind was working furiously to find an alternate reason to explain away the blotches and was failing miserably.

Brian was driving the truck and Jack was sitting up on the ladder apparatus smiling like a kid who had just received his favorite toy for Christmas. “All aboard!” he shouted.

With a grim determination I walked back into the station. I just couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the dog pinned up against the wall. I had no sooner walked in when Meredith came sliding down the brass fire pole. I was happy that she could at least find a moment’s relief and enjoy the short thrill ride down, but the look on her face did not speak of any joy.

“Nest…” she barely eked out. I didn’t actually hear the words spoken, the blare of the ladder truck’s horn almost deafened my already battered ears.

“NEST!” she screamed just as the echoed reverberations of the blast were finished.

Zombies began to fall through the hole just as Meredith vacated the area, more followed down the stairs at the far corner.

Travis’ sixth sense was in high gear that day. He came around the corner, the Mossberg in his arms jumping as twelve gauge deer slugs ripped through the barrel. Zombies were launched off their feet; most would never regain a vertical position. Justin was next, quick to drop the cigarette he was smoking and chamber a round in his rifle. The three of us stood abreast, the rapid rate of fire tearing through our enemy but still we were losing ground.

Jack turned from his lofty perch, the smile literally running from his face. “Too many!” he screamed. “Coming around the other side!” Perla had moved Henry aside and was running towards us. I could hear the blasts of her rifle and was none too pleased. I never did much like having someone shoot past me from the rear. Way too many chances for an errant shot. And Lord knows I’d pissed off enough people in my life that ‘friendly fire’ was always a personal concern of mine. I turned to look and possibly shout a few choice expletives at her, but she wouldn’t have seen me. She was shooting over to our left. I followed her line of sight. Zombies were coming at us at full tilt.

“Back!” I shouted, putting my forearm on Justin’s chest.

Brian was honking the horn on the truck and waving frenetically at us to get on. Cindy had climbed up by Jack and they were both concentrating their fire at the targets Perla was shooting at. My firing line was still oblivious to the danger on our side. Travis was jamming rounds into the Mossberg’s port with a speed I could barely register. I tapped him on the shoulder just as he shouldered his weapon. His eyes grew twice as wide as he looked over my shoulder at the approaching nightmare. His rifle swung over as he began to acquire new targets.

I shook my head in the negative, “Let’s go!” Meredith dropped the magazine she was loading into her rifle as I almost lifted her and Justin off their feet to get them in motion. Perla swung over to cover our retreat. I was now infinitely grateful that she was shooting over our heads. Funny how that change happened, I guess it’s just a matter of perspective. The zombies were close. I was waiting for the drag of a nail down my shirt, or a bite in my back, the green slimed teeth sinking deep into my flesh, or the black encrusted broken jagged nails scraping through the fragile layers of my skin. Always knew I should have used more moisturizer as I was growing older. It would have given my skin more elasticity and less chance of splitting when a zombie tried to scrape the life out of me. Yup, random thought as I fled for my life. At least it didn’t involve sex, maybe I was finally maturing. And then I began to think of the other uses that lotion could be used for and realized that maybe I was not as far along as I had originally thought.

I had a moment of panic as I looked at Henry in the front seat staring back at me. If he had inadvertently locked the door, which he was prone to do, I was a dead man. I couldn’t even count the number of times I had let him in on the passenger side only to have him come and greet me on the driver’s side and push the lock button down. Then he would just sit there with his huge panting grin wondering why I wasn’t joining him inside. I wouldn’t swear on it but I think he did it on purpose. I had taken him on dozens of car rides and never once had there been a problem. The day I had to take him to the vet for some shots he locked me out of the car. Two hours and a missed vet appointment later, the lock smith came and opened the car door.

“Hey buddy, you really should make a spare,” he told me as I wrote him a check for a hundred and ten dollars.

I told him to blow me, he laughed.

Five days and four uneventful car rides later, I was able to secure another appointment at the vets. This time I made sure that as soon as I put Henry in the car I ran around to the other side to get in. I slipped a little in the gravel by the front end and by the time I recovered and was able to get a hand on the door handle, I heard the telltale ‘click’ of the lock being engaged. There was no denying it this time. Henry was full on smiling at me. It was no damn pant. I was cursing loudly as I headed into the house.

“Talbot, did that dog get the best of you again?”
Tracy
asked, smiling almost as widely as Henry.

I was beyond pissed as I made sure to pick a different locksmith lest I get the same smart ass as before. I paid the extra twenty to have him make a key on the spot. This guy was an hour and a half quicker than his competition and so I was still able to make it to the vet. Henry was not a happy camper and let me know by leaving an extra heavy puddle of drool on my seat. The twenty minutes it took to drive home was excruciating as the thick saliva soaked through my jeans and onto my left butt cheek.

There was no way he could have known, right? In the hundreds of car rides we had taken together he had locked me out four times. Two were for the vet, once when I wanted to get his picture taken with Santa. The last time had been the summer before. It had been an unbelievably hot day, for some reason I thought it might be cooler at the dog park. Henry had been hesitant to leave our air conditioned home. I had to pick him up off his doggie hammock and physically put him in the car. I had no sooner placed him in the passenger seat when he stood up. He crossed the bridge between the two seats, lifted his left front leg and pushed the lock down with his paw. I watched in amazement. He wasn’t running around crazy and just happened to hit the lock, it had been a deliberate action. He had told me in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want to go. I reached up under the frame of my jeep, grabbed the key I had hidden with the magnetic box, opened the door and let Henry find his way back to his hammock where he stayed the majority of the day. He occasionally got up to drink and eat, but for the most part he and the hammock were a fused entity.

I now had to hope, with my life on the line, that Henry’s actions had ALWAYS been that of a fully cognizant being and not those of an over exuberant puppy/dog. Henry jumped into the back seat just as I got to the door. Travis and Justin who were quicker than me had already gained entry. I pretended for pride’s sake that I was covering Meredith’s retreat, which technically I was, but she was also quicker than I. This was a blow to my ego. I could smell the gunpowder of the expended rounds as they came dangerously close to my back. The zombies were within striking distance. If they could breathe, I would have felt their exhalations on my neck.

Meredith, Justin and Travis had made it in. Henry had not locked us out after all, but that still did not quiet my hammering heart as my hand wrapped around the cool metal of the handle. If I lifted up and it did not disengage the locking mechanism, there would not be enough time for anyone inside to help me out. I know Henry didn’t lock me out now I had to hope that good old Detroit engineering didn’t pick this most inopportune of times to fail. The handle pulled up with that satisfactory tug and the door swung outward just as my head jerked backwards. A zombie had grabbed a handful of the hair on the back of my head and was pulling for all it was worth.

“Zombie’s got you Dad!” Justin shouted, pointing.

I wanted to shout ‘Really?’ but there is a time and a place for sarcasm and I certainly didn’t have the time for it. I had a variety of none too pleasant sensations all happen quicker than the blink of an eye. The first being the razor sharp burn of pain as a bullet scraped against the side of my head, the second was the separating of a fair portion of hair and skin from my scalp as the zombie behind me suffered a fatal head shot; his hand spasmed closed even tighter, and as he fell he took a part of me with him. The third was my shoulder getting slammed by the car door as BT used our other ride as a battering ram. Zombies shot out at odd angles as the ton and a half projectile slammed into them. I could see Tracy holding on for dear life in the passenger seat.
Gary was in the back seat and he spared me a side-long glance as they passed by. BT had bought me a few precious seconds and I would not squander them. My head initially dragged even further backward from the clutch of the zombie and then shot upright as my scalp finally let go of its prize. I didn’t even bring up my right hand to see how deep the wound was from the bullet. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to do anything about it right now and I was too scared to check anyway.

“Oh my God!” Meredith screamed, “You’re bleeding from your head!”

“You’ve been hanging out with Justin too long,” I told her as I shoved the car in gear and screeched the tires out of the parking lot. BT and the fire truck were not far behind. Neither were the zombies for that matter.

Blood was accumulating in my lap at an alarming rate. “How bad is it?” I asked Meredith. If I was to solely base her answer on the expression she was wearing, it was safe to assume my brains were exposed and were leaking down the side of my face.