Dedications:

To my wife; we’ve walked a difficult path these last few months and except for a scratch or two from an errant briar we’ve come out in pretty good shape. I look forward to the trail we’re getting ready to blaze and I love you with all my heart.

To my family both immediate and extended your strength has been a tangible force upon which I have been able to keep myself upright, I love you all.

To Mo Happy, I’ve asked a lot of you at a time in your life when maybe you needed a break, I appreciate your hard work, dedication and friendship. Your skills will get you far.

Always to the men and women of the armed forces, police and fire departments, all of you are the reason why this country is so great. Thank you for all that you do and remember that there are more of us thinking about you than you realize.

To those that signed up for the name contest, I told you guys I’d get you in the book one way or another! So thank you to all those listed below.

Jamie Brown, Nick Orlando, Chuck Craig, Paula Baca, Michael Gunn, Rachael Janda, Ash Careme, Gill Hancock, Mark Brenner Jr, Thayer Janda, Matt Heaps, Landon Vanlandingham, Joe McCormick, Luke Asquith, Andy Angel, Cynthia Ellstrom-Organ, Paul Half-Orc Harpham, Jason Waugaman, Therese Morin, Ashley Morgan-Garcia, Van Loggins, Paul Gosling, Rob Horowitz,

Raiden Morgan-Garcia, Jeremy Holmes, Steve Wright, Jared Dunn, Ruby Rain Morgan Garcia,

Andre Daniel Uckert, Michael Adams James, Shannon Love, Reiko Morgan-Garcia, Bobbie Ayala, Tammy Nguyen, Ryan McNeil, Cindy Martell, Brandon Hartle, Kara Baker, Steven Clutch Totten, Ryan Lynch, Jennifer Locascio, Chris Baines, Brian Wamsley, Ione Bargy, Christy Peery,

Gregory Wendler, Rich Baker, John Harrington, James Agbey, Laura Underwood,

Gibby McGibberson, Ray O’Connor, Felicita Green, Jack O’Donnell, Emelda Rivera, Cami Adair, Jan Wilkins Parchman Grant, Kyle Sell, Steven Parkin, John Rose, Dave Kolan, Andrea Wimmer Piper, Siobhan Hayes, Darren Murphy, Crystal Drumheller, Chris Crinigan Friedly, Paul Green, Jodi Evans, Jeffrey Hoffman, Gabe Harris, Vinny O’beirne, Talea Fields, Evan Roy, Hendrik Lagewaard, Calum Roebuck, Tini Blair, Elina Kelley, Christoffer Piper, Becky Graveling, Stacie Shular, Greg Lose, Chris Walker, Rhiannon Graveling, Robert Burton, Max Ayala, Traci Sellers, Luci Keenagh, Robert Stocker, Jeff King, Lisa A Dellert, Grant Tillie, Roselie Bouyea, Jerome Lim,

Joe Deutschendork (Dutch), Gary Mountjoy, Rob Eichen, Kristie Long, Nate Gipe, Ryan Dobkins, Stuart Woodruff, Tillman Dickson, Sarah Flores, Tanya Murphy, Ryan Sanders, Stephen Deese, Sean Sommers, Jessica Lord, Rich Parenzan, Moo and Bandit, Gina DiPaolo, Brian Kay, Zachary Parenzan, Joel Sheets, Stacy Barbour Stewart, Charles Stultz, Jodi Jackson, Amber Belinski, Aysha Hackert, Meredith Hampton, Rodney Lawrence, Patty Quinn, James Fulton,

Shawnda Picraux, Sean Marsh, Commodore Mann, Jen Haskins, Barbara Jean, Perla Tirado,

Martin Munro, Elizabeth Briscoe, Greg Jean, and Nick Reed!

CHAPTER FOUR – Talbot Journal Entry 4

We stopped that first night off of the Mass Pike at a rest stop. The combo Dunkin’ Donuts, Mobil Gas Station and Papa Gino’s had long ago been ransacked but the building itself was in remarkably good shape and easily defendable, two sought after qualities in this brave new world. I had everyone exit the truck and pulled it up so close to the front door only an anorexic zombie would be able to fit through, and I had yet to find one that fit that bill. Gary grabbed the radio out of the back and set it up on one of the red and white checkered pizza joint tables.

“Is it time yet?” Gary asked.

“He said he would keep it on all the time, so I would imagine any time would be fine,” Tracy answered.

“Breaker one nine, breaker one nine,” Gary started. “This is Hammer of the Gods, breaker one nine, Hammer of the Gods over.” “Hammer of the Gods?” my wife mouthed the question to me. All I could do was shrug my shoulders.

“Can you hear me Mount Olympus ? This is Hammer, over?” Gary asked.

An out of breath response came through almost as clear as if we were next door and not two states away. “I thought you were kidding about those call signs,” Ron said.

Gary seemed instantly relieved when Ron spoke. It was a connection to normalcy, or at least the Talbot version of it. “ Mount Olympus , this is Hammer, the Chariot of Fire has suffered some damage.” “Chariot of Fire? Gary, speak English. Wait, the truck! What happened to the truck? Get Mike on the horn!” Ron yelled.

I was backing up, my arms outstretched, hands waving back and forth in the negative. “Tell him I’m not here,” I told Gary .

“I can hear you, you little pecker, get on the mic!” Ron said from three hundred miles away.

“Balls!” I said resignedly. “You and me are going to talk, Gary ,” I said softly but with force.

Gary looked taken aback but there was also something else there, something underlying and subtle; it was humor. The ass was loving it. ‘That’s fine,’ I thought to myself, ‘revenge is a two lane highway, and we still had plenty of roadway left before this dance is over.’

“Yeah Ron, this is Mike,” I said with forced cheerfulness.

I had to step back from the speaker as Ron’s yells bellowed forth. “That truck is brand effen new, you’ve been gone for one day. What the hell could you possibly have hit? There’s not even anybody out there.” “Well, there was this moose…” I started.

“You hit a freaking moose? What were you doing, did you take the damn thing off-road?” “See, it’s more like the moose hit us.”

“Forget it!” Ron yelled. I could picture him throwing his hands up in the air the way my mom had so many times before when I was a kid and trouble had somehow found me and then followed me all the way home, and sometimes even inside. “Is everyone alright?” he asked, finally getting down to the important matters.

“Don’t you think that should have been your first question?” I taunted.

“Don’t try me little brother.”

“A little shaken up but no worse for the wear, you’re going to lose your security deposit though.” I could hear him groan. “That’s fine,” he said grudgingly. I could tell he was struggling within himself to not go ballistic and from this distance it was funny, any closer and not so much. “What are your plans for the night?” he continued.

We had decided before we left that we would check in at least once a day, preferably at the same time, and that I would let him know where we were at and what we planned on doing the next day. There was an innate comfort in somebody knowing where you were at all times. It wasn’t like he could send in the cavalry to rescue us, but maybe, eventually, he would be able to find what remained of us and give us a proper burial, provided of course there were any remains to be found.

“We’re off the Mass Pike, mile marker 70, holing up for the night in a rest stop. Then we’re going to go a little further west tomorrow into Pennsylvania and maybe south depending on if I get any hunches.” “Mike, for the fiftieth time, is this what you want to be doing? The U.S. is huge, how are you going to find one woman?” “No, this isn’t what I want to be doing,” I answered a little snappishly.

“You know what I mean.”

“Ron, I don’t know how it will happen, but it will. I will find her and I will kill her.” I was much more confident about the finding part than I was the killing, but this I would keep to myself.

“Alright little brother, you guys have a good night and stay safe. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And one more thing.” “Yeah…?” I said hesitatingly.

“You mess my truck up any more and you’re going to need Eliza to protect your ass from me .” I wanted to tell him just to get another one, what was the big deal. I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and instead said, “Hey bro, don’t want to waste any more battery, over and out.” “Wait you litt....” I took this opportune time to shut the transceiver down.

Gary was about ten feet away, his face split with a shit eating grin.

“Not cool man,” I said, pointing my finger at him. I might have done something more than threaten him but just then the sound of metal scraping on metal caught all of our attention. The sounds of multiple firearms being readied dominated the landscape for the next four seconds. Travis was coming up behind me, shotgun at the ready. I put my hand on his shoulder as he drew up alongside. I pointed to my eyes and then motioned for him to watch our backs. The building, which I felt had been an ideal resting spot just moments earlier, now seemed more like a trap. We were in the dining area in the middle where long gone customers used to sit and try to digest all the processed food they bought at the gas station store on our left or at the pizza counter in front of us. The Dunkin’ Donuts had never opened the fateful day the zombies came, either that or the last employee to ever work there had had the foresight to close shop and run. That heavy gauge metal screen had been pulled down in front of the counter. You know the kind, you can fit your fingers through and almost reach the plastic mugs. What the hell you’re going to do with it once you get it in your grasp is beyond me, they won’t fit through the gaps, not that I had tried… lately.

No other sound emanated from the gas station store, but I still brought my gun up out of an abundance of caution. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tracy tense up. Gary for all his comedic endeavors was now all business. He came up beside me as we advanced on the store. Justin went up to the front doors and peered out. I stole a glance towards him. His thumbs up assured me that our one avenue for escape was still clear.

“One chance,” Gary said loudly, startling the hell out of me.

I hated giving potential enemies any sort of heads up. Maybe that was how they had done it when Gary was in the Air Force. Marines? What can I say, we don’t fight fair, we fight to win.

“Did you hear me?” Gary asked again. “I said one chance .” “Dude,” I said impatiently. “You already gave them their one shot, enough already.”

“We’re coming in!” he added just for good measure.

I stopped and let my gun slack down. “Really? Are you kidding me? Should I get some flyers printed up, with our arrival date and time?” “Well I don’t think that’s necessary,” Gary answered.

“Don’t shoot!” came from the far corner and of course the dimmest lit section of the store.

We both swung our guns and trained them on that spot, advancing even slower.

“Don’t move,” came from our immediate right.

“Text book,” I said quietly.

“What?” Gary asked.

“We just walked into a trap.”

Why Gary looked down at his feet I don’t know, maybe he was looking for a tripwire.

“Not that kind,” I told him.

“Put your guns down,” came the voice from the corner.

Like gasoline to a fire Travis came running up to the store entrance. “Drop that fucking gun!” he yelled.

“No swearing!” Tracy said reflexively from the food court.

I could hear the metallic sound of the action being moved on the pistol that was aimed at my right side. I started going through the laundry list of vital organs exposed to that potential shot, any of them being damaged was not something I wanted to deal with today.

“Hold up!” I yelled. “I’m putting my gun down. Travis, do not do anything.”

“Dad, it’s just a girl,” Travis said. I don’t know if he meant he could take her down quickly or ‘it’s just a girl and what the hell do I do?’

“How big is the gun?” I asked evenly as I bent over very slowly to place my rifle on the floor.

“Fucken huge,” he said with some awe.

“No swearing!” Tracy said again.

“Angel, you alright?” the voice from the corner asked.

I couldn’t believe it. The girl apparently holding a rhino killing pistol started to giggle. “I’m alright Eyean. But he looks scared.” And then she started to giggle again.

I had placed my rifle on the floor and stolen a glance at my captor as I stood back up. She stuck her tongue out at me when she realized I was looking at her. A six year old girl holding a .44 magnum had gotten the drop on me. “Wonderful,” I said in self-disgust.

She put on her meanest face, probably the one reserved for when she found out that the Hannah Montana episode on that night was a repeat. However, it was no joke when she motioned with the gun for me to put my hands over my head. Gary had already put his gun down and was lying prostrate on the floor.

“Dad?” Travis asked.

“Put the gun down. I’d rather get shot than ever shoot a little girl.” Visions of a Wal-Mart loading bay blazed across my memories. “Again,” I added.

“Eyean, all their guns are down,” Angel said, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle another giggle.

“Eyean, why would you send this girl out here to do this?” I was enraged.

“It’s Ryan, she’s never been good with the ‘R’,” a skinny kid maybe 15 or 16 years old said as he came out from behind a NASCAR display. “She was in the bathroom when we heard you come in. I told her to stay there.” “Any chance we could convince her to put that gun down before anyone gets hurt? And considering I’m the only one under aim at the moment, it would most likely be me.” “Mister, I’m sorry,” Ryan said. “But we don’t know you at all.”

“Stranger danger!” Angel said excitedly.

“Wonderful, so now what?” I asked.

Ryan didn’t seem so prepared to answer that question.

Tracy came up cautiously to the front of the store. “Why she’s just a little girl Talbot, what’s the matter, did she trap the big brave men?” she asked condescendingly, laced with a bit of humor. I don’t know how she pulled it off. It was magnificent and it also had the added bonus of diffusing a potentially bad situation.

“Hi pretty lady,” Angel said, waving the hand that was not holding the magnum. How the hell such a little girl was keeping that cannon trained directly on me I don’t friggen know.

“Hi, Angel is it?” Tracy said, getting a little lower to be on eye level with the Bonnie (of Bonnie and Clyde fame) wannabe. That might seem harsh to you but I was the one being held at gunpoint. Give it a whirl sometime and let me know what you think of it.

“Yes,” the girl answered coquettishly, lightly kicking her left foot forward.

“You’re very pretty Angel,” Tracy said softly.

“Thank you pretty lady,” Angel answered. This would have been an awesome Disney flick if that cold steel huge caliber weapon wasn’t pointed at me.

“It’s Tracy,” Tracy answered.

“My mom’s name was Alicia,” Angel answered back.

We all noted the key word ‘was.’

“Oh honey,” Tracy said, standing back up. As she walked forward she opened her arms wide.

Angel didn’t give a crap about me as her gun clattered to the floor and she ran into Tracy ’s outstretched arms. I was thankful it didn’t go off, especially considering the first action of the dual action revolver had already been engaged. When I walked over to retrieve the weapon I increased my embarrassment level exponentially. I opened the revolver only to realize that she had no bullets.

“What now mister?” Ryan asked, cautiously watching his sister as she sobbed heavily into Tracy ’s chest.

“Nothing, come on out.” I looked down. Gary hadn’t moved. “Umm, you can get up now brother.” “All clear?” he asked.

“You could say that,” I answered, showing him the empty revolver.

“Oh, I knew that all along,” he said seriously.

I couldn’t tell if he was being truthful or just trying to save face. Ryan stepped hesitantly up to where we were.

“You’re fine, kid, we probably don’t fit the definition of Good Guys but we sure as hell aren’t the bad ones.” He seemed to relax a bit, especially when he saw how Angel had taken to Tracy .

“Can we come out Ryan?” another voice from the shadows asked.

I grabbed my rifle and slung it over my shoulder.

“Can they mister?” Ryan asked warily.

“It’s Mike and yes, this is your place, we’re the ones intruding.” I could tell Ryan was feeling more comfortable, not completely trusting yet but not fearful either.

“It’s alright guys,” Ryan said.

Three more kids came out from behind the end aisle cap. They were all roughly the same age as Ryan. One was a little taller and looked to be suffering greatly from their gas station food diet. Drakes Cakes were playing hell on his acne. I hadn’t noticed before but Ryan, Angel and the other three castaways were filthy, they looked like orphans from 18th century France . Apparently 21st century America wasn’t as far removed from those troubled times as we had hoped to believe.

“How many more of you are there?” I asked Ryan.

“This is it,” he said with downcast eyes. “Benny and Chirp went home when the end started and they haven’t been back. Dizz and me,” he said, pointing to the aforementioned face-pocked tall kid. “We went to look for them a couple of weeks ago and maybe see what happened to our parents,” he added softly. Angel had finally unburied her face from Tracy ’s chest and was listening intently.

“How far away do you live from here?” I asked.

“Not very, from the back of this rest area you go through the fence, a small woods and then we’re about two streets away. “Half mile maybe?” he asked his friends, looking for validation.

One of the dirtier kids (who was aptly named Sty) just shrugged his shoulders. “Guess so,” he answered in that typical dripping with contempt teenager way.

“What were you guys doing out here?” I asked, just to change the subject. He had lost at least two friends and his parents and probably didn’t want to rehash that again.

“We were sledding, there’s an awesome hill right at the fence,” Ryan said with a ghost of a smile on his face.

“And this store used to have the best chocolate milk,” Dizz added a little melancholy .

“I drank the last one,” Angel said. “Dizz gave it to me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dizz said, a little embarrassed.

“Our mom was going to get her hair done,” Ryan said. “She told me I had to take Ang with us if I wanted to go out.” “Daddy wasn’t feeling good, he was cranky and had gone to sleep,” Angel added for good measure.

My immediate thought was that he had been infected. Ryan must have been able to see the wheels spinning in my head, he nodded in assertion to my unspoken words.

“I had just come back up the slope and was waiting for my turn when I heard a bunch of horns and some skidding,” Ryan said.

“And then a lot of crashy noises,” Angel said, placing her hands over her ears as if it was happening now.

“Zombies just started walking out into the roadway. I mean, we didn’t know they were zombies then. It was horrible, trucks and cars were just plowing into them or crashing into the guardrail or each other trying to avoid them. But that wasn’t the worst part.” “Don’t Eyean,” Angel begged, trying to bury her head and her thoughts deep down.

“Well anyway,” Ryan started back up, leaving out the gorier details for the sake of his sister, and I guess for all of us actually. “We watched, we just couldn’t believe what was happening.” Angel groaned. “Customers and people that worked here they all left, I mean in a hurry, and the zombies pretty much followed them. I know it was wrong but we,” and he made sure to point at all of the guilty parties. “We just had to come in and take a look.” An untended store as a teenager, that’s a no-brainer. I would have ransacked the hell out of the place. It’s in my nature.

Ryan looked at me to see if I was holding judgment over his actions. “I would have done the same thing,” I told him, and he seemed relieved. Now to clarify, just because I would have done it definitely didn’t make it right, but I decided to not tell him that.

“We were still in here messing around,” he continued.

“And eating stuff,” Dizz added.

Ryan looked over at him crossly. “And yeah, I guess, eating some stuff.”

“A lot of stuff,” Angel said with a big grin.

“I get it, you ate a bunch of stuff,” I said.

“A bunch,” Angel agreed. “And then the army men came.”

“Yeah, they were using huge trucks with plows to push all the cars out of the way,” Dizz said.

“We thought they were coming for us,” Ryan said.

“Yeah, it’s a Capital Offense to steal a Slim Jim,” I said sardonically.

Angel started crying. “Nice one Talbot,” Tracy said, trying to comfort the girl.

“I was just kidding Angel,” I said, trying to placate her. “And how do you know what capital offense means?” “So we were scared,” Ryan continued. “We hid until they had gone by, it was completely dark by then and the power was out. Couldn’t see anything here because there was only a little bit of moonlight. We heard some wicked fighting down the road.” “Guns, grenades, missiles, everything,” Dizz said in fond remembrance. “The sky was pretty bright because of it.” “And smoky,” Angel interjected.

“Yeah, definitely smoky,” her big brother said.

I was going to ask them why they hadn’t gone home at that point. But this wasn’t a difficult puzzle to piece together. The power was out everywhere, no fun being out and about when you can’t even see your hand in front of your face, much less whether zombies are after you. I wouldn’t have taken that chance either.

Ryan continued his narrative. “The next day, early on, we saw some army guys heading back the way they had come and then nothing. No cars, no fighting, nothing. Benny and Chirp said it was time to go.” Ryan looked down at his feet. “Mister, I was scared, for… for my sister.” ‘Nice recovery,’ I thought. Can’t ever show weakness in front of your friends, especially not your friends.

“We had been safe in the store the night before, there was no way of telling what was happening outside. They called me chicken but promised they would send help back.” “That was a long time ago,” Angel added softly.

“And have you tried to go home since then?” Tracy asked, her arm still wrapped protectively around Angel.

“Me and Dizz went down the hill and to the edge of the woods a few weeks ago, but all we saw were zombies. I’m pretty sure we could have made it to either of our houses, but I didn’t want to know by that point. My mom knew where we had gone, if she was…” He paused as Angel looked at him. “Um, well, she would have got us if she could, that’s all I meant.” “And you haven’t had any zombies come here?” I asked incredulously.

“Early on there were a few outside, but none ever tried to get in. And then they just started leaving like they were being called or something.” Chills ran up my spine.

“What now?” I asked Ryan.

“Don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“What do you mean Talbot? We can’t just leave them here!” Tracy said hotly.

“You think taking them with us is the wisest choice?” I said, matching her tone. “You know where we are going, right? Into the damn teeth of the enemy!” Tracy flinched at my outburst. “I think that they’re light years safer here than with us!” Angel started crying. “You’re an asshole Talbot!” Tracy said as she turned and walked away.

“Whatever, I’ve been called worse by better!”

“Dick,” she added, flipping me the bird over her shoulder.

“Geez mister, you sure do have a way with the ladies,” Sty said in wry admiration.

Ryan looked dejected that we weren’t the cavalry. “I’m sorry kid,” I told him. “You do not want to go where we are going.” “The Summoner?” he asked apprehensively.

I involuntarily staggered back a step as if he had given me a physical blow. “How… how could you know?” “She keeps showing up in my dreams,”

“Yeah. Ryan’s kind of psychic,” Dizz said half-jokingly and half with awe.

“Psychic?” I asked Ryan. “Anything else you could tell me?”

“Yeah,” he said solemnly. “You shouldn’t follow her.”

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE – Paul and Alex

Paul was moments away from getting someone to replace him on watch. It was MJ's turn, but the man had not stopped working on his zombie box in the last four hours. Movement caught Paul’s eye as he swung back around to look out the large dual glass doors.

"Zombies it’s always zombies,” he said softly. “Zombies!" he yelled to alert the rest of the group.

"How many?" Alex asked, hauling half their arsenal to the front of the store.

"I'd say roughly all of downtown Asheville,” Paul said as he moved away from the doors. “MJ come on, we've got to get some heavy stuff in front of these doors.” MJ looked up, smoke from his battery operated soldering iron swirling around his head. In his haste to help he inadvertently put the still hot iron down on his unfinished and delicate circuit board. Paul moved over to an oak chest and hutch set that together easily weighed in excess of three hundred pounds. Moving it was extraordinarily easy over the tiled floor as the three men used their adrenaline testosterone fueled muscles to get it going.

"Wait,” Alex said as they pushed it up against the doors. “If we moved it this easily won’t the zombies be able to also?” "We've just got to keep stacking stuff here until it becomes impossible,” Paul said, already moving on to the next closest item, a butcher block kitchen table that was on clearance because someone had seen fit to drag a key across the surface and mar the finish, deeply in some places.

The thud of the first zombie impact pushed the hutch almost a half inch away from the door it had just been placed against.

"Uh oh,” MJ said, looking at the spider web of broken glass that emanated from the collision zone. “Guys, we'd better move faster.” "What the hell are you talking about?" Alex asked him, “You’re not even moving.”

"The glass is breaking,” MJ pointed out.

"Come on!" Paul urged as he pushed the table into place. “Let's get that book case!"

The thuds kept coming, but each one was of a slightly less jarring impact as the zombies began to run into their brethren that had reached the doors first. Within half an hour, the small ten foot wide hallway that led to the doors was stuffed with more contents than would fit in a standard U-haul truck.

"That’s going to hold them?" Joann asked Paul anxiously.

"It never does,” he told her.

"Maybe we should figure out how to get on the roof,” was Alex's reply to Paul's words.

"Good call,” Paul said, clapping him on the back. “Joann, can you keep an eye on the doors while me and Alex check out the roof?"

She nodded tersely.

"Dammit!" MJ yelled, his sweat soaked back to the trio.

"You alright?" Alex asked.

MJ turned towards them and held up a circuit board with a soldering iron clearly infused with the green plastic.

"Can you fix it?" Paul was concerned. The sound box had saved them once and there was no reason to think it couldn’t do it again if MJ could get it to work.

"I can’t fix this,” MJ said in disgust, pulling the iron away from the plastic casing. “I can rebuild it but I lost all that time.” "Then why are you wasting more time talking about it?" Joann asked.

"You know, not everyone likes a New York attitude,” MJ said to her as he sat back down and began to get the pieces he needed out of his Radio Shack bags.

"I can help,” April told MJ.

"I'd rather you watch the door with Mouth over there,” MJ said peevishly.

April stomped away and Joann laughed. “I think I got under his skin,” she said to Paul and Alex.

"Whatever gets him working,” Paul said. “We'll be right back. Grab a gun, if we hear a shot we'll stop whatever we're doing and be here as quick as we can.” Mrs. Deneaux walked up the main passageway, cigarette in hand as if she were on stroll through the streets of Paris, grabbing a small revolver as she walked past the weapons Alex had deposited on the couch in his haste to help rearrange the furniture.

"You know how to use that thing?" Joann asked her.

"Don’t be silly, I was the State Champion in 1964,” Mrs. Deneaux replied, yellow tobacco stained teeth showing in her attempt at a smile. It looked more like a dog getting ready to strike with her teeth clenched that tightly together.

"That smile looks kind of painful,” Alex remarked.

"Go and find us a way out of here.” She motioned them off with the wave of the gun.

"Got another cigarette?" Joann asked.

"Oh honey, of course I do, but I'm not sharing,” Mrs. Deneaux said as she took another long drag, making sure that the majority of exhaled smoke went in Joann's direction.

A narrow cement staircase led to a locked door which ultimately led to the roof. Paul lined up his gun to remove the lock.

"Crazy one, what the hell are you doing?" Alex asked his friend in alarm.

"I'm opening the door,” Paul answered with a look to match Alex’s for the question asked.

"You're shooting at a metal lock attached to a metal door encased within a narrow landing surrounded by cement, but you don’t see anything wrong with what you’re doing?"

"Dude, I'm just trying to open the door, I've seen this done a hundred times.”

"Those were movies Paul, make-believe stuff.”

"Do you want me to get MJ?" Paul asked, a little hurt that his try was being rebuffed.

"First things first,” Alex said as he turned the lock.

"Wouldn’t have thought to do that,” Paul said as he stepped out into the muted sunshine. Black ominous clouds hung overhead and the stench of the dead wafted up from below. “Shaping up to be a wonderful day it is,” he joked in a fake Irish brogue.

"Damn,” Alex said, looking up at the sky while simultaneously holding his nose.

"Come on, let's see what we're dealing with,” Paul motioned as he stepped away from the doorway.

Alex placed a small piece of slate between the door and the jamb, just in case.

"Good call,” Paul said looking back at his friend.

Alex gave him a thumbs up with his free hand, not yet willing to take in any more breaths than he had to. They were still a good twenty yards from the edge when they began to see the outer fringes of the enemy below, with still more making their late entry into the fray. And yet they kept marching forward, like lemmings to the abyss.

"Wow,” Alex stated. “Zombies don’t really care so much about personal space, do they?"

Paul doubted that if it began to rain any of the water around the zombies would touch ground. Zombies were packed tighter than Legos snapped together. This brought ‘close' to a whole other level. “Do you think they might just crush themselves to death?” "That would be great, but it would be better to heed the advice of my Mee-Maw.”

"I'm waiting,” Paul said as Alex got lost looking at the wall of moving death below them.

"Oh she used to say, ‘If the shit hits the fan, unplug it before it gets all over the place.’” Paul thought about it for a moment. It had a ring of truth to it but he couldn’t see how it fit the present situation, “Any chance you could elaborate?"

"I never knew what it meant either; it's just something she used to say. How many you think there are?" Alex asked looking back down.

"Five, six hundred, probably be a thousand in another hour.”

"Escape?"

"Not by the truck that brought us here,” Paul pointed. It was nearly consumed by the sea of zombanity that surrounded it. “Let's go see what's going on at the back of the store.” "Who parked it that far away?" Alex asked a little miffed.

"MJ parked it, but I should have known better,” Paul said.

Alex shook his head. "No sense in slipping in spilled milk.”

"Another Mee-Mawism?" Paul asked.

"What's wrong with that one?"

"Nothing. Come on, let's see if there’s still a way to get out of here which doesn't involve sleeping on the roof.” "Yeah, especially since it looks like the heavens are going to open up.”

Shots rang out from the front of the store. Paul and Alex ran for the doorway and made a quick descent down the stairs. Had they waited a few moments more and gone to the far edge they would have noticed that it was still clear of zombies and they could have made a hasty retreat. That fact would radically change over the next few hours.

Joann was firing blindly into the stacked furniture, wood splintering as bullets crashed into table legs and hutch casings. Mrs. Deneaux sat idly by smoking another cigarette.

"What's going on?" Paul shouted as he ran up the aisle way.

Joann was firing blanks by the time he got up to her. He placed his hand on hers to remove the empty weapon.

"Joann?" Alex asked, catching up.

Her eyes were stretched wide in fear. “The… the furniture is moving,” she cried.

"Yes,” Mrs. Deneaux said between puffs. “So she thought it worthwhile to kill the divan.”

Paul and Alex both looked at Mrs. Deneaux harshly. She didn’t care. “I think she may have gravely wounded the lounger also ,” she went on with a dry coated rasp.

The movement was almost imperceptible; the strewn furniture pile vibrated slightly as if a semi passed close by. Paul's attention was drawn back to the front when a couch cushion landed at his feet.

"MJ, how much longer on your wonder machine?" Paul asked.

MJ hadn’t even looked up at the sound of the shots being fired less than fifty feet away.

"MJ!" Paul shouted.

"What! Can't you see I'm working!" he shouted back, still not looking up.

Paul walked over towards his work station. “Listen, I understand dedication, I really do. But we've got a situation here. How much longer do you think this is going to take?"

MJ finally looked up and noted the concern in Paul's features. MJ's face sagged as he spoke. “Possibly forever with what I have here. I fried some vital components that I don’t have replacements for. Is there a chance we could make another run out to Radio Shack?" he asked hopefully.

Paul shook his head, leaving no doubt in his answer.

"Alright, there's still an outside shot I can do it with what I've got, but it's not going to be as powerful.” "Fifteen foot gap between us and them?" Paul asked optimistically.

MJ shook his head.

"Ten maybe?" Paul asked, grasping at straws.

MJ's head hadn’t stopped moving from the previous question.

"Dude, how much then?" Paul asked in alarm.

"Three feet max,” MJ answered with a sickly smile.

Alex had come up and was listening to the whole exchange. “That's less than a few inches at most from an outstretched hand.” "Yup,” MJ said apologetically.

Paul's stomach got queasy. “And you're only talking three feet from the transmitter of that box, with all of us huddled around that thing, that three feet is gone.” "Hadn't even thought of that,” MJ said, removing his protective goggles.

"Well,” Alex said grasping on to another hope. “What if he finishes it, we move the furniture, and place it by the entrance so that the zombies will stop trying to get in?"

"I like the idea in theory. But first off he isn’t done, and if the furniture is moving I've got to believe that they have already broken through the doors. We could be speeding up our demise instead of holding it at bay.” "Paul, I do not want to get trapped on that roof,” Alex said. “Sure it's spring and all, but it's still cold at night and it looks like it's going to rain.” "And yet that is the choice before us.”

"That sounded very Mike-like,” Alex said with a sick grin of his own.

"Yeah I liked that, I've been working on it. Listen, while we've got time, let's see how much warm stuff we can get up on the roof and if they have any types of sales banners we can use as tarps to keep the rain off.” Joann was still watching the pile as if she expected an evil leprechaun to pop out at any second.

"How did Mike do this s tuff ?" Paul asked aloud. Alex looked at him questioningly. “You know, keep everyone in line. Get them to doing stuff as opposed to blanking out,” Paul said as he pointed to Joann.

"He's got crazy eyes,” Alex said jokingly, “He made us more afraid of him than the zombies.” "You might be right. Joann, come on, let's grab April and haul some stuff upstairs. Mrs. Deneaux, you alright watching the door by yourself?" Paul asked the old bat.

She waved him off with her cigarette laden hand. “And I'll be sure to put the lounger out of its misery,” she cackled.

“Hilarious,” Paul mumbled as he walked away.

“Not much choice Mike!” Paul shouted, trying to motivate me.

I think it was a bit of overkill, what do you think? I had zombies climbing up the truck. They didn’t give a damn about any of my myriad of phobias. I absolutely detest heights, but being eaten alive trumps even that. I was halfway up the truck ladder when the fastest of the zombies stepped onto the rungs. I watched him in disbelief as he tried to coordinate the placement of his hands and feet. He looked like a puppet controlled by an inept puppeteer, but that he was even trying this was a frightening new development.

“Brian, could you tie the end of that rope down and toss it to me?” I asked him.

He unslung it from his shoulder, retreated for a minute or two, and then tossed the rope into my face.

“Great idea Mike!” Tracy said in encouragement.

“She’s not going to like this,” I said softly to Henry.

I began to tie a make shift harness around Henry, kind of like what I’ve seen on Animal Planet when they have to hoist a cow out of a well or something.

“Oh for Christ’s sakes Mike, what the hell are you doing?” Tracy asked with chagrin, “That damn dog.” “This damn dog saved your daughter’s life and mine! I shouted back. She backed down but she was not a happy camper.

I no sooner got the harness as snug as possible when Henry brushed by me. He was either showing me the way or saving his ass, no sense in the both of us perishing here. Henry kept his gaze focused solely on the roof he was striding for. His paws splayed out as he stepped on the rungs; he seemed pretty sure of himself. On second thought, I might have been better off using the rope myself. Although I don’t know how Henry was going to climb the ladder once he got to the incline.

“Mike, why are they following you?” Alex asked.

“Really Alex? That’s the question you’re going to ask?” I asked sardonically, looking up at him.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Any chance one of you guys could maybe shoot the zombie s ?” I asked. “Instead of watching.” “Sorry, Dad,” Travis said. “I’ve just never seen them do that.”

“I told you Mike was trouble,” Mrs. Deneaux said to her audience.

Almost as one the group turned on her and told her in varying ways to shut the hell up. I would have savored it a lot more if I wasn’t on a swaying ladder suspended above zombies, frozen by a phobia my crazy ass brother thrust upon me some thirty-eight years prior.

Travis’ shot went wide of the zombie’s forehead. I couldn’t blame him, the wind had picked up and the ladder was moving a good twenty to twenty-four inches back and forth. The fact that he ripped the damn thing’s ear off was impressive enough and the force of the bullet was enough to dislodge him from the ladder, which was just as effective as a kill. I climbed two more rungs when another shot rang out followed in quick succession by two more.

“Dad, they’re getting better at climbing,” Travis shouted.

“Don’t turn around Mike,” Paul said.

So of course the first thing I did was just that. A line of zombies was making the ascent and they were getting close enough that covering fire was going to be extremely difficult.

“You’d better get going,” Brian said needlessly.

“And they always said Army guys were ignorant,” I mumbled.

“I heard that,” Brian said. “Now get up here so that we can settle this like gentlemen.”

I was moving a little quicker but I was making Meredith’s five minute snail pace seem pretty damn impressive.

“You’ve got a ten-foot cushion,” BT said just as I made it to the junction from the fire truck ladder to our make-shift bridge.

“How’s Henry doing?” I asked, too fearful to look up.

“Better than you,” BT said.

‘I’m screwed,’ I thought to myself. As soon as two or three of the zombies got on the ladder with me, the added weight would pull the skids right off the roof.

“I’m not going to make it,” I said looking up into my wife’s eyes.

“You get moving Talbot or I’m coming down there to get you,” she said, and she wasn’t kidding. BT grabbed her elbow as she began to climb over the wall.

“Just wait, this isn’t the way Mike goes out. It isn’t climactic enough,” BT reassured her.

“This isn’t a movie or a book, BT, and last I checked you didn’t have the power of precognizance!” she shouted in his face. “For all we know he could die on that ladder by scraping his hand and getting an infection. That wouldn’t be climactic at all, in fact, I’d call that very anti-climactic, but it would still be a reality. Now let me go so that I can get my husband up here!” “Don’t you dare let her go!” I shouted to BT. “If I die here, it’ll be alone!”

A thick rope almost toppled me off my perch. “Wrap that around your waist Mike!” Paul screamed. “Fast!!” I was never great with knots, maybe I should have joined the Navy, but in a pinch I can tie a double granny like nobody’s business.

“Now climb, if you fall we’ve got you!” Paul shouted. “Mad Jack, tie the other end off.”

‘Wait, didn’t he tell me they would have me? Should I really trust a man named Mad Jack to tie the other end of my life line off?’

“Henry’s up!” Justin shouted.

‘Damn, that was fast.’ I looked up to verify and immediately wished I hadn’t. Vertigo, like a physical force, pushed my face into the ladder. From my vantage point, with cool aluminum on my cheek, I could see the gamut of encouraging and disparaging (Marta’s and Deneaux’) faces. When the worst of the episode passed, I looked behind me. Mindless pursuit would not be the adjective I would have used to describe what approached. Relentless, yes, mindless, no. The zombie closest to me extended his hand. This was like my worst nightmare in church. If I let him get any closer I would have to take the proffered viral encrusted hand in celebration of a new bond between man and zombie. Yeah, that’s it. I could be the ambassador, the one that broached peace between man and monster! I would be a national hero, heralded as the savior of all mankind! Or he’d gnaw through my fingers on his way to devouring my forearm. Yeah, that seemed much more probable. Still stalling.

I quickly unsnapped the tie down that was holding the ladder in place; the buffeting wind made it jump. I jumped on it before it could completely bounce off.

“Mike, what are you doing?” Paul asked in alarm, not sure if the nylon rope they had secured the ladder with would hold the entire weight should the ladder and I both go over.

I was four rungs up when I felt the ladder shift. Company had joined me on this final leg of the journey.

I was halfway craning my neck to look back when BT’s words struck me. “Don’t ,” was all he said, and the tone was enough, I actually paid him heed.

The ladder was bowing something fierce. I looked up to watch as the top skids were a good fifteen or sixteen millimeters from losing contact with the roof. See how I did that, I changed from U.S. measurements to the Metric system. Maybe if we had just switched back in the seventies like they said we were going to, I would be able to feel much better about my predicament. Because fifteen or sixteen millimeters sounds WAY better than half a n inch!

Another zombie joined us, or a particularly heady wind hit, or a damn butterfly landed on a palm frond somewhere on an island in the Pacific, didn’t matter, the rear of the ladder came off the ladder truck. What had previously seemed like a good idea now truly sucked as I death gripped the rung I was on as we swung with velocity towards the wall. Memories flooded through my senses, I guess the mind feels the necessity to show events that are not life threatening when one is faced with a most certain demise. For the briefest of moments I was once again a fifteen-year-old enjoying a burgeoning beer buzz with my two best friends on the planet, Paul and Dennis, as we discovered a place called Indian Hills. My parents had left me alone for the weekend and I did what any respectable teenager would do if they wanted to hold on to their cool card, I had a raging party. The next morning as my two buddies and I cleaned up, we decided to hightail it from the premises before my mother came home. During the best of times she could give Deneaux a run for her money. With the hangover I was suffering from, I did not want to add her to the mix.

Paul, Dennis and I had grabbed a few beers and were reinvigorating the buzz we had so much enjoyed the previous evening. Our goal was an area that we had seen from a perch atop our local grocery store. We would come to find out that the area was known as Indian Hills. It was an Indian burial ground (no, really!). The place had become a sort of oasis for us as we had grown over the next three years. That it was mystical was beyond reproach. We had more than our fair share of adventures on that land, but that’s a story for another journal.

The fingers of my right hand smashed against the wall as I had readjusted my grip from rung to rail. I’m not ashamed to admit I screamed. I’m pretty sure it was a good throaty man scream but I can’t be sure, it might have been as intimidating as an eleven-year-old girl’s. My immediate thought was better the right, I shoot lefty. And then all thought was washed away by the mind-blistering pain that ripped through my neurons. The pain peeled back quicker than I expected. I would learn later that the left side of the ladder had struck first, absorbing the majority of the strike. I would most likely lose all four fingernails on my right hand but that was a small price to pay for my life. I might have had some small micro-fractures in the tips of my fingers as well, but I’d left my Blue Cross Blue Shield card back in Colorado , and I figured that I was out of network anyway.

The haze in my mind burned off the moment I felt that hand wrap around my foot. So there we were, me and my new buddy, suspended thirty feet above the ground by a small rope attached to a ladder I wouldn’t tie anything bigger than a Chihuahua to. The ladder swayed back and forth against the wall, I’m sure doing its best to cut through the nylon holding us in place just like in every movie I’d ever seen. Sure, I had a safety rope on, but it looked like it had seen better days.

My new buddy was really trying to climb up the ladder. His hand was wrapped like a vise and I could feel his full weight as he either was trying to pull me down or pull himself up to greet me properly. But he would bite me long before we could exchange banalities.

“Cut the rope!” I shouted. ‘Did I just say that?’ “For the ladder!!” I clarified quickly.

“We figured that much,” BT said, looking over the rim of the wall.

“Just making sure, hurry, my buddy here is pretty hungry and he thinks I’m on the menu.”

“What do you mean nobody has a knife?” I could hear Tracy ask irately.

I tried to shake my new buddy’s hands free, but he was having none of it. His right hand gripped my calf. As soon as he pulled up and got his mouth into position, I was about to become his lunch. My arms strained as I supported the both of us.

“Not that one!” BT shouted.

‘Are you kidding me?’ I thought as I hung on, still grimly trying to shake my ‘friend’ loose.

“Let go of the ladder!” BT said, “Don’t worry, bud, the rope will hold.”

“The both of us?” I asked him.

“Probably,” the one called Mad Jack said.

I pulled my hands back just as the ladder zipped by. The rope tied around my waist bit deep into my flesh as it absorbed all of our weight. I felt like I was being severed, and the added pressure as the group on top of the roof began to hoist me up only contributed to the strain. My biting buddy was still firmly entrenched like a fat deer tick, but without his feet planted on the ladder he was merely hanging on for his dearly departed life. I wasn’t in any immediate danger of being bitten but rather torn in two like a convicted felon, drawn and quartered or, in this case, halved. To-MAY-toe, to-MAH-to, what’s the difference?

“The rope is breaking!” April shouted.

“Shut up, fool!” Mrs. Deneaux snapped. I would like to think that perhaps it was to save me from the bad news of my upcoming demise, but more than likely it was to hide the surprise so she could relish the look of shock on my face as I plummeted earthward, the old bitch. There was a lurch in my stomach as I free fell a few feet. I quickly looked up.

BT was leaning as far over the wall as he could, fat droplets of sweat cascading down upon my face. Normally this would have grossed me out to no end, but since he was single-handedly pulling the rope up hand over fist, I would forgive him this transgression. The veins in his neck stood out thicker than the rope I was tied to. His teeth clenched together in a pressure I think could snap through a steel cable, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration and pain.

I wouldn’t find out until I was safely on the roof, but the rope had snapped. BT had dived after it and just barely gripped the edge of the trailing rope. He and he alone had my lifeline in his hands. He hadn’t even had enough cord to wrap it around his hands, he was just pulling two full grown men up the side of the building. Well, to be fair, the zombie looked a little on the underfed side and had decayed a substantial amount, but still!

As more of the rope became available, Paul and Alex gripped some and the pain in BT’s features eased. But he never let go, even as the blood ran from his hands in droplets to rival those from his sweat.

I had never before been so willing to be embraced fully within a man hug. BT grabbed me under my armpits and basically manhandled me up. Travis got his rifle into position and blew my buddy’s head in two. I looked over my shoulder as the zombie fell towards the ground. His friends greeted him gaily at first, hoping for a meal from the heavens. He was quickly trampled underfoot once as they realized he was tainted. Of all the things zombies were, it was a damn shame they weren’t cannibals.

BT picked me up and placed me firmly on the roof. It took me a little longer to regain my wits.

“You can let go now, people are starting to stare,” BT whispered in my ear.

I pulled back slowly. “Thanks, man.” Those two words meant much, much more but the true sentiment was conveyed in my tone.

“You’re welcome and we’re even now,” BT said with a smile.

I watched as he walked away looking for something to wrap his hands up in. Tracy came over to me and pointed out the blood that covered my armpits; his hands must have been flayed. He might think we’re even, but the save-o-meter clearly pointed in his favor. Would it be against the rules if I staged a fake disaster and ‘saved’ him from a perilous fate? Just to swing the meter back in my favor, something minor, maybe a skateboard on the stairs or I could kill a malaria carrying mosquito before it bit him, something small. Just a scale tipper, that’s all I’m looking for. Well, no real worries with the state of the world as it is, I’m sure an opportunity would present itself soon enough. But what if he saves my ass again? Then I’ll be down by two. That could be a pretty big deficit to come back from. Maybe if I just up and chucked Deneaux off the side of the building, he would consider that a leveling of our score.

“You alright Talbot?” Tracy asked. She looked more nervous than I’d seen her in a long time.

I nodded slightly. The shock of the event still hadn’t completely registered. I was betting there would be nights to come where I would dream BT hadn’t made it to that rope and I had plunged backwards into a sea of sharp teethed zombies. Maybe even staying asleep long enough to feel them rend the flesh from my bones, elastic skin snapping as it was pulled free from my body. Veins and arteries popping as the sealed blood within arced out in red rainbows of death. Rein it in Talbot! I know my imagination can be like a three-year-old on Red Bull and still I feed it.

“How’s your hand, buddy?” Paul said as he gripped it for a handshake.

“Hurts like hell,” I said, ripping it from his grip.

“Dude, I am so sorry. I thought it was the other one,” Paul said, moving in for a hug.

Erin smacked him on the shoulder. “We really are so glad to see you and your family Mike,” Erin said, moving Paul aside so that she could get her own hug in. “Do you have a way to get us out of here?” she asked hopefully.

I looked back over the wall at a fire truck that was barely visible due to the swarm of zombies on it. Worse yet was the now thirty foot gap between us and the ladder.

Erin was still waiting for an answer. Paul helped me out and pointed at the way we had come up.

“But there are zombies all over that thing,” she answered. “How will we get them off of there?” she asked, looking between me and Paul.

“That’s something we might have been able to do with the guns. It’s the gap that shuts that avenue down,” I told her.

“So now what?” April asked. “You bring him!” she spat, pointing to Justin, “but no way out!” “April!” Joann exclaimed. “They came to help.” She swore with a contemptuous wave of her finger .

“They’ve done nothing for us!” she screamed, “except bring us more troubles.”

“Listen April!” I yelled, “I think you were in a world of crap long before we got here. All I did was risk my family and friends’ lives so that we could help your ungrateful ass! I’ll tell you what, ” I continued, “ when I figure a way out of this, I’ll make sure to leave you here.” “Mike, she didn’t mean it,” the new guy said, trying to placate me.

“Yes I did,” she answered with fire in her eyes.

“Well, this is interesting,” the new guy interjected. “My name is Mad Jack,” he said as he extended his hand. I gripped it way tighter than I meant to, it hurt like hell.

“Nice to meet you,” I growled.

“Likewise,” MJ said, pulling his throbbing hand away.

“Hi Mike,” Joann said next, trying her best to not get sucked into the argument. Marta barely managed a weak wave. The kid… Freddy? No, Eddy, was hidden behind Joann’s legs. I didn’t see his mother or siblings anywhere. There was no reason to ask where they were, if they weren’t on this roof they were dead. Didn’t much matter how.

BT came back with a rag wrapped around each hand. I couldn’t help but ask what I did, it’s ingrained in my genes. “You get some Bacitracin on those?” I asked pointing to his hands.

Without missing a beat BT responded. “Yeah, they got a first aid station on the other side, fixed me up just right.” I almost, I said ALMOST, looked over his shoulder to see if he was telling the truth. He said it so dead pan I figured he just might be.

“Would you like a cigarette Mike?” Mrs. Deneaux asked me genially.

I might have taken it except for the murderous expression on Joann’s face. “Bitch,” she cursed before walking away.

I shook my head, damn thing was probably laced with poison. Deneaux shrugged her shoulders and lit the one that she had offered me, but she was smiling. I don’t know what got her rocks off but whatever it was, I could bet it was mean spirited. It was looking more and more like she hadn’t offered me that cigarette out of any sense of camaraderie, but rather to make a point of not giving one to Joann.

“Have you always been this way?” I asked her incredulously.

She responded by taking an extra-long drag on her smoke.

Marta had walked away to take care of her children she seemed to be warring internally with ‘glad to see us’ and ‘why are you here’. April walked off with Marta .

“She’s just under a lot of stress forget about her,” Alex said. “It really is good to see you my friend.” He clasped my hand. Did no one witness the ladder event? I pulled back sharply.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

I told him it was alright, but it was close to an hour before the crippling pain dulled. Most of that time I hid it in my coat pocket lest it be further abused.

“How did you find us?” Paul asked.

“Eliza led the way,” Justin said, coming up to us.

“She’s here,” I told them.

“Like right here?” Paul asked, not truly believing my words.

I nodded.

“I thought we were screwed, now I know we are,” Paul said, his right hand going up to massage the dull ache in his temples that my news had obviously caused him. “You got anything Mike, any sort of idea?” he asked as he began to pace.

I shook my head.

“Why in the hell did you come up here then?” he asked angrily. Not that he was being ungrateful, only that we had clearly endangered ourselves in the process.

Perla, Cindy and Brian had stayed in a tight circle amongst themselves. There had been introductions, but like cliques in high school people began to peel off into their own familiar groups. Joann and Eddy stayed close to Marta and her two kids. Mad Jack was pretty much a clique unto himself, but April would not stray more than a few inches from his side no matter how obviously he tried to lose her. Tracy sat down on the roof, her back against the retaining wall. The past few events had drained her damn near dry. Travis sat with her. Gary was off looking at the door that led down into the store. I so wished that he would stop jiggling the handle.

Paul, BT, Alex, Justin and I stayed together. We were the planning committee, so far without a plan. Mrs. Deneaux merely watched every group, a few moments spent studying each one.

“Anything yet?” Gary asked, thankfully coming away from his door handle turning expedition.

“Still locked?” I asked him.

“Yup,” he said straight faced. “And it’s a good thing too.”

“You think?” I asked him.

CHAPTER THIRTY – Talbot Journal Entry 15

“What have you decided, Michael?” came Eliza’s question. Her tone betrayed nothing of which way she wanted me to answer.

“My only condition as it has always been Eliza, is that if I agree to fight, when I win you honor your end,” I told her.

“Will you believe what I have to say?” Eliza asked. That she had a small measure of mischief in her words was not in doubt.

“There is the locket,” Tomas said.

“What locket?” Eliza and BT asked at the same time.

“The Blood Locket that Mr. T holds,” Tomas answered.

Eliza’s gasp of surprise was amplified in the small space she now inhabited.

“What do you have?” BT turned to me.

“My brother gave this to me before I left the house, he said he had no idea what it was for but that I might need it,” I said as I pulled out a large white gold locket with a rose and a blood red jewel on its face.

“You possess the Blood Locket?” Eliza asked. It was the first time anyone had heard a tremor in her voice.

“It looks that way,” I said, turning the locket over in my hands. I pulled away quickly as something snagged my finger. A fat bead of blood welled on my thumb, “Damn, again?” I questioned, sucking the wound. The locket opened to reveal an ancient picture of Eliza.

“You will give it to me now or die!” Eliza fairly shrieked.

“It looks like I’m going to do that anyway. So I don’t necessarily see the reason to relinquish this,” I said, thrilled that I had set Eliza back on her heels. “What does this locket do?” I asked the question of Eliza, but it was Tomas that had an answer forthcoming.

“She is bound to the locket…” Tomas started.

“Tomas, you are walking down a dangerous path,” Eliza growled.

“No, Sister, you started down this path when you decided to open up your world to me.”

“You will not betray me, Brother.”

“I will do as I wish, Sister.”

It was unclear what was happening behind the closed door, but it was Tomas who spoke next.

“Do not think that I cannot wrest control of these zombies from you Eliza.”

A muffled thud and cry of pain carried through the steel door.

“Eliza, help me,” a pain tinged plea came from Durgan.

“Fool!” she spat. “I did not tell you to attack him. I would always take side with a wayward brother over that of a slave.”

“I was only and always trying to help Mistress,” Durgan begged.

The door to the roof crashed open. Eliza strode through, Tomas right behind her. In the darkness of the hallway was the huddled form of Durgan.

“Michael, I will honor our arrangement,” Eliza said with a rage fueled voice as she approached us.

BT discreetly grabbed the locket from my hand which had gone slack at the sight of Eliza. He clutched it close to his chest. I knew vamps had many more powers than mere humans. I hoped her sight wasn’t too enhanced as I grabbed the truck keys in my pocket; this might work, they were sort of goldish.

“That’s far enough, Eliza,” I told her. Any closer and Mr. Magoo would have caught my ruse. Eliza did not stop her forward progress. It had been a long time since she had taken any orders from anyone, least of all a sworn enemy. “Travis, give me your shotgun.” Travis did not hesitate as he handed over his weapon. I dropped the locket (keys, careful to place my body and my foot in a way that made her viewing difficult, if she got a good look we were screwed) onto the roof and pointed the shotgun straight at the piece of jewelry. I had no idea if this ploy would work until Eliza stopped in mid-step.

“Will she die, Tomas, if I destroy this locket?” I asked. (Oh pretty please!)

“She will not be the same,” Tomas answered.

I could tell Tomas was watching in amusement as the white around my knuckle spread with the incremental amounts of pressure I applied to the trigger. The inner debate waged within me.

It was Tomas’ next words that stopped me from blowing that ‘locket’ to hell where it belonged. “I do not, however, think that you will like the outcome.”

“What would that be?” I asked, never looking up.

“I would be in charge,” Tomas told me solemnly.

“You’re much more powerful, aren’t you Tommy,” I asked, but it was more of a statement.

“Yes.”

“Is there anything of Tommy left in you?” I asked as a solitary tear was migrating down my cheek.

“No.”

Eliza appeared to have missed the entire conversation; her complete attention was focused on the golden locket lying on the tarred roof. Durgan dizzily made his way onto the crowding roof as zombies began to pour through the opening. Eliza or Tomas still controlled them as they did not attack but made a ring around us, the stranded humans.

Eliza snapped out of her trance. “Do not be so confident, Tomas,” she said to her brother. “Now Michael, I believe you have what is rightfully mine.”

“I do, but I have decided on another set of terms,” I told her.

“I grow weary of this,” Eliza said. A cheetah would have been amazed at her speed as she grabbed the locket and was back in her original spot just as I blew a hole in the surface of the roof, damn near taking my foot off.

“I was expecting that. I just didn’t think it would happen so fast.”

“Kill them,” Eliza said before she looked the piece of jewelry over.

The zombies began to close the circle up, hunger intensifying their movements. April fainted outright. It was Mrs. Deneaux that was the first to fire. The front line of zombies dropped quickly as the rest of the group took to arms. Rifle fire crackled, smoke rose into the air, human shaped monsters dropped by the dozens. Missed shots from fifteen feet were a rare occurrence, and then the zombies were eighteen feet away and then twenty. I held up my hand for a cease fire. It wasn’t that the zombies were retreating, they just weren’t advancing anymore.

“Clever Michael,” Eliza said coolly.

“I watched Interview with a Vampire,” I told her. “You vamps move pretty fast.”

“Where is my locket?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“I can still kill all of you now and then sort out the pieces later,” she told me ominously.

“Do you really want to look through zombie offal for something you obviously value so much?” I asked her. Can a vampire be a germ-a-phobe? I mean I doubt it, they suck the blood out of people. Who’s to say where that neck has been, or what disease is running rampant through that person’s veins. “And it might not even be on us,” I threw in for good measure.

“You lie, I can smell it on you,” Eliza said.

“The lie or the locket?” I asked.

“Both. But you are right, I would rather you hand me the locket on your knees rather than search among these diseased vermin.”

“Well at least we agree about the vermin part,” I told her. “Let’s make a straight up trade, all of us leave here and you get your locket.”

“Where is the fun in that?” Eliza asked me.

“I think it sounds like a lot of fun,” Mad Jack piped up.

“Me too actually,” BT added.

Gary raised his hand in acknowledgement also.

“Enough!” Eliza said forcibly. “That is not an acceptable bargain. Someone must die here today.”

“There’s always you,” Justin said a little louder than he intended.

“Oh my pet,” Eliza said turning her head to face him. “You do not know what you have thrown asunder. I could have brought you on an incredible journey. You could have danced across the graves of everyone who has ever wronged you.” Justin pulled his gaze from Eliza. She laughed. “Silly boy, it is a shame you will never see the dawn of a new day.”

“I will fight Durgan,” I said.

“No Talbot,” Tracy said obstinately.

“Hush,” I said, putting my finger to her lips and hoping she wouldn’t bite it off. “I will fight Durgan but when I kill that asshole, we ALL leave unharmed and unpursued.” (Now that I said and wrote that word I’m not sure if it’s actually a Webster’s Dictionary approved word. Oh well, it’s not like anyone besides me will ever see this.)

“Those were not our original terms,” Eliza said.

“It’s called leverage Eliza. I have a little bit and I plan on using it.”

“If anyone on your side should step in and alter the outcome, our agreement will be null,” Eliza said, speaking directly to BT.

“No one will,” I said turning to face my friend.

“What? I haven’t even done anything,” BT said guiltily.

“And you won’t, right?” I asked him.

“But what if he’s beating the crap out of you, can’t I at least kill him before they get us?” BT asked. I gave him the sternest look I could muster, but it didn’t do much considering it was aimed at his sternum. “Alright, I won’t do anything even if your spindly ass is getting spanked and or demolished,” he grudgingly conceded.

“Thanks man,” I said sarcastically. “Eliza, do you agree to this?”

“I will let everyone including yourself leave here unharmed, IF you kill him.”

“What about not pursuing us?”

“That will be my leverage Michael. You can all leave here and I will let you go, but not forever.”

“Don’t take the deal, Dad,” Travis entreated.

“I welcome the opportunity to put a spike through your chest, Eliza,” I told her. Eliza sneered. “Swear it, Eliza.”

“I swear it on the Blood Locket, Michael.”

“Tomas?” I asked.

“She is bound,” Tomas said.

I pulled the locket from the barrel of the shotgun where I had stowed it once the zombies stopped approaching. Eliza gasped.

“It would have been the first thing destroyed,” I told her.

Eliza walked purposefully over to me and took the locket from my extended arm, making certain that her ice cold touch came in contact with my hand.

“We could still have some fun,” Eliza told me as she kept her hand wrapped around my wrist.

“I’ve already dated enough cold heartless bitches in my lifetime, thank you very much,” I said, trying to control the fear that was threatening to run away with my nerve.

“Very well. It is a beautiful day to die,” she said as she released her grip.

“I’d actually prefer a good rainstorm, maybe some hail and a crap load of lightning. It’s that whole flair for the dramatic,” I told her.

“Even at the end, you jest. You are a unique individual, Michael. I will almost miss you.”

“My mother told me that once.” It was the first thing I could think of.

“Dude?” Paul said.

“Too far?” I asked him.

“A little bit.”

“You will surrender your weapons now,” Eliza said as she stepped back next to Tomas.

“Whoa, that wasn’t part of the agreement,” I told her.

“Yes, as a matter of fact it was. When you die, the rest of your group will surrender to me. With their weapons they will not be so willing to follow through.”

“I say we just go out fighting now Mike,” Brian said.

A few others thought the same.

“We voted on this already, either we’re all in or we’re all out. I’m prepared to fight to the end by myself or with all of you by my side.”

More zombies began to funnel through the breech point in response to Brian’s call to arms.

“We’ve voted,” Alex said. “With Mike we have a chance. I’ve said my piece and I am at peace with the decision. I am prepared to meet my Maker.”

“I’m not sure if I should be honored or not with that comment Alex.”

Alex shrugged his shoulders.

“Well at least you clarified that, buddy,” I told him.

The small pile of rifles and pistols we produced could have kept a guerilla unit in Southern Peru stocked for a few years. I honestly don’t know how we could have carried all this armament and still move effectively. Now I know why the ladder bowed so much under BT. Sure, a good part of it was his bulk, the rest had to do with the two rifles and three pistols he contributed to the pile, plus the five hundred or so rounds he had stashed on him at various locations on his body.

“Got anything else on you?” I asked him softly, pretty much just kidding.

When he smiled at me diffidently, I didn’t even want to know where that one might be hidden, best not to think of things like that.

“I will give you some time to say your prayers to your false God,” Eliza said as she strode back through the roof door, her entourage of zombies on her heels.

“That’s not like her,” BT mused, coming up beside me.

“I agree but there’s no sense in trying to figure it out. A normal woman’s motives would be impossible to figure out.”

“And she’s not normal,” BT concluded.

“Let’s start working on some contingency plans while we have a chance,” I said, getting the group into a circle, except for April who had not yet decided to stop napping.

“What if Durgan beats you?” Perla asked.

“He won’t,” Tracy said.

“Okay, but what if he does?” Perla asked again, “We can’t just leave our fates up to her.”

“Personally, I’d rather let the zombies eat me,” Cindy said.

That’s how you know Eliza is one mean mother, when people would rather get eaten alive than spend any time with her.

“Could we survive a jump off the roof?” Joann asked, “I mean, we’d land on all those zombies below us.”

“And then what?” BT asked peering over the edge. “Even if you didn’t so much as bruise a muscle from the forty foot drop you’d still have to make it through close to a hundred feet of zombies.”

“Plus I’ve got a feeling that we won’t be anywhere near the edge,” Mad Jack said, “Eliza’ll have us surrounded.”

“Okay, who’s got what?” I asked the group as I pulled out a Glock 26 from a concealed holster.

BT hoisted out a seven inch barrel .357 Magnum. Erin had a stubby .22. Travis had a small .32 revolver, and Justin produced a sling shot. Hey it was a weapon, not a great one, but just ask Goliath how effective they could be.

“Sorry man,” Brian said. “All I had was that rifle. We won’t be able to put up much of a fight with these anyway,” he said, getting depressed at the notion.

Mrs. Deneaux came into the center of the circle, a small Derringer in her hand. “It’s not for them, sweetie,” she said, placing the barrel up against April’s head and her still prone body.

“That’s even worse,” Cindy said.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Mad Jack said.

“What will God think if we take our own lives? That is a mortal sin!” Perla was nearly crying again.

“The sin would be to allow Eliza to possess us,” Marta said resignedly.

“Agreed,” Paul said.

“You’d better beat him,” Marta told me.

I’d bested him twice, but once was with a rifle and the other was while he was recovering from the first injury, not exactly a hand on hand combat situation. Sure, I had trained for this in the Corps but that was a LONG time ago. My philosophy was and still is that carrying more ammunition is your best bet.

The door to the roof opened slowly. All of our weapons raised. We tipped our hand; did this make the deal a no go? It was Tomas. I dropped my weapon down to my side but no one else followed suit.

“Mr. T, there is no time for this. Tell them to put their weapons down so that I may approach,” Tomas said.

“Tommy?” I asked, hoping beyond hope.

“No,” he shook his head. “I thought it would be easier for you to accept me if I reverted back to how he sounded.”

“Put your guns down,” I told them.

Tomas approached. “Eliza is enhancing Durgan. You will not be able to defeat him with his new powers.”

“Enhancing how?” I asked. The question wasn’t fully out of my mouth before I stumbled upon the answer myself. “She’s turning him into one of her, into one of you.”

“Not quite, that would take too long and she doesn’t want him to share her blood.”

“Then how?” Gary asked.

“The same way she accelerated his healing and the same way I survived all these years, a half-bite.”

“Like a nibble,” Eddy said.

Tomas nearly smiled. I don’t think that Tommy was as far gone as Tomas believed him to be.

“What does this do for Durgan?” Tracy asked.

“He’ll be faster, stronger.”

“Great, like he didn’t already have that going for him,” BT said.

“BT, I’m right here man,” I said.

“Sorry man, I’m just saying. It’s not like you didn’t already know that.”

“Yeah, I guess I just didn’t need it vocalized from my own camp.”

“My mom used to say the truth hurts,” Eddy said.

I laughed. “Great, out of the mouths of babes.”

“Why are you here Tomm… Tomas?” Tracy asked, “Is it just to tell us this?”

“I’ve come to give Michael the same opportunity that Durgan is receiving.”

“Wait, you want to turn me into a half-vamp? I can’t,” I was panicking on the inside.

“It’s the only way,” Tomas said.

“Hear him out,” Mad Jack said.

“And then after today? Then what? I watch as my family and my friends die. I watch as my children catch up to me in age and eventually die? I won’t, I can’t watch that, I can’t be a part of that.”

“Stop being a pansy,” Mrs. Deneaux said. “Today is the only day that any of us has guaranteed. If it becomes too much of a burden then you can always fall on your sword. Of course it would have to be made of wood,” she cackled.

“I thought you were relatively cool when you pulled that gun out. Now we’re back to square one and I can’t stand you.”

She cackled louder.

“Every second we waste in discussion will be that much more time you will have to stay alive waiting for your own powers to increase,” Tomas said.

“How much of a head start does Durgan have?” Justin asked. I was still pretty lost in my own thoughts to make any coherent cognitive thoughts.

“Five minutes,” Tomas answered his old friend.

“Why bother at all,” Mrs. Deneaux said. “He couldn’t survive five minutes against the old Durgan, now with the new and improved model? Pah, we should have kept more guns.”

“You should see if that gun has any rounds in it and hold it up to your eye. I’ll pull the trigger for you,” Alex said.

She “pahed” again.

“What of my soul?” I asked Tomas.

He shook his head in negation.

“I can never go to Heaven?”

“Only to the gates.”

“I’ve been there,” I said, burying my head in my hands. “It’s a beautiful place, lonely but beautiful.”

“Oh Mike,” Tracy said, draping her body across mine like a shield against the worst of what the world had to offer.

“I’m not strong enough for this,” I said as my body heaved.

“Our lives are not worth eternity,” BT said as he wrapped Tracy and myself up in his own embrace.

“Eliza will discard all of your souls before she is done,” Tomas said.

“Why are you doing this?” Meredith asked, “You play on the other team now, what do you care what happens to us?”

“I have my reasons,” Tomas said evenly.

I looked around at the faces surrounding me, searching for an answer that only I could produce. It was Travis and Justin that solved my dilemma. Watching them die today was infinitely worse than watching them die at some mythical point in the future.

“Do it.”

“Talbot! NO!” Tracy yelled.

“You sure man?” BT asked in disbelief.

“Do I look sure?” I asked him, my eyes red-rimmed.

“I don’t think so,” Gary said. “What? He asked!” Gary replied when BT looked at him sideways.

“Damn, I thought the whole Captain Obvious was my strong point,” Justin said. “It must run deeper in the family than we thought.”

Tomas came up beside me, “You will want to lie down.”

“Is this going to hurt him?” Meredith asked.

“Extremely.”

“Wicked pissah,” I said.

Tracy walked away, her arms folded across her chest. I couldn’t be sure from my position, but it looked like her shoulders were shaking with sobs.

I lay down, saying the Lord’s Prayer in one last vain attempt to possibly keep a dialog open with the Big Guy.

BT held my hand tight. “Let’s just go out guns blazing, Mike.”

I looked over to my sons’ very concerned faces. “I would if we were alone my friend.”

“I get it, I do. I’m sorry it came to this, buddy,” BT added.

Paul and Alex stood guard over my prone body as Tomas leaned in. It was Henry that almost stopped everything. Where he had been and what he had been doing I’m not sure, probably basking in the sun and sending out his own ozone melting flatulence.

He jumped across my chest, his back legs by my left arm pit and his front paws down by my right side. Froth formed on his muzzle as he barked and growled incessantly as Tomas approached.

“I will kill him if you do not remove him,” Tomas said, stopping his progress.

“You kill him and I will drill you in the eye with my Ka-Bar, Tomas,” I told him.

“Perhaps you would Michael. Now move the dog so that we can get to the business at hand,” Tomas said, still not moving, maybe because he was fearful of the dog or me.

Justin grabbed the big Bully and hefted him back. Travis stepped in to assist and still they almost lost control of Henry.

“Put this in your mouth,” Tomas said as he handed me a piece of rubber roughly the size and shape of a cigar. “And do not concern yourself where it has been, germs will no longer be a problem of yours.”

That almost made this whole scenario a worthwhile endeavor.

Tomas moved down to my neck. I had an instant of paranoia thinking that he merely wanted to get this close so that he could rip my throat out. And then he did, at least that’s what it felt like. Sparks of pain ignited in my throat like my veins were igniter cables and the fuse had been lit. Fire spread through every portion of my body. I arched so hard only the heels of my feet and the back of my head still made contact with the roof.

So this is how your soul was removed, it was burned out. I could smell burning cordite as my teeth struggled to cut through the guard. Muscles spasmed with a force that put my body into contortions that must not have been anything near to normal. I couldn’t register it then, but even BT was looking away, not able to stand what I was going through. Although I’ll give him this, his hand never left mine and I know I must have put enough force on it to crush a normal man’s.

“Th..th..thisss thu..thucks,” I chattered to BT.

He squeezed my hand tighter. “It’s no bargain on this side my friend,” he said, still not looking down.

Tomas had strode away at some point, could have been five minutes or five hours. Having your soul seared kind of takes your mind off of time.

“Dad?” Travis asked.

I gave him a nod but there was no guarantee that I pulled it off. My muscles were firing independent of any messages I was sending them. For all I knew, I could have stuck my tongue out at him.

“You stupid, stupid bastard,” Tracy said, cradling my head gently.

“Is it over?” I asked.

“You passed out a few minutes ago buddy,” Paul said.

“You said “goodbye” right before you went under. We were scared,” Alex said. “Do you know what you were referring to? Did you have a vision?”

I shook my head no, but I did know what I was referring to. It was the loss of my humanity, my mortality, my personage, my soul. I was less of a man now and more of a demon. And I had never felt weaker in my life.

“We need to clean his neck and stand him up before Eliza gets here,” Paul said looking nervously towards the door. “Tomas said this would look too suspicious if you were on the ground,” he said, looking at my confused face.

“I’m… I’m not sure I can stand yet, at least on my own,” I said. I don’t think I could have held up Eddy’s slight frame in this condition.

“Just lean on me,” BT said, picking me up like a rag doll.

“I think she will know something is up,” Mrs. Deneaux said, “with you carrying him around like a ventriloquist’s dummy.”

BT had one arm wrapped around my waist and had me pulled into his side, this I could tell because my head, which seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, was pointed straight down. Like a new born baby I couldn’t even hold my head up.

“At least I’ll be able to see Durgan’s boots as he kicks me with them,” I said. Gallow’s humor.

“Not funny man,” BT said as he dragged me around the roof. I’m not sure what he was trying to achieve but he kept doing it. Pretty soon he was going to scrape the tips of my hiking boots clean off.

“I’m not a junkie. I don’t think walking me around in circles making sure I stay awake is going to work in this situation,” I said, still looking down at the rooftop.

“Can’t think of anything else to do man, and I’m nervous as hell, so you get to go for a ride.”

“Wheee,” I said cheerlessly. “How much more time do you think we have?”

“Never enough,” he answered.

I was able to finally move my head upwards by degrees as we heard Eliza coming up the stairs.

“I’m in trouble,” I said, almost able to pull my head into a horizontal viewing position.

“If you’re in trouble, we all are,” BT said grimly.

“If I can’t stand by the time she comes for me, make sure you save one of those bullets for me.”

“Will that work? I mean now?” BT asked me.

“I think if an overzealous horsefly came right now, he could finish me off.”

“Mike, you’re not instilling me with confidence in our group decision.”

“You think?”

“So you lose your soul but not your sarcasm?”

“That might have hurt if I could muster up the strength to care.”

“Do you think this was a trick?” Gary asked.

I hadn’t known it before but he was walking behind us the whole time.

“I mean, maybe he just weakened you so that you had absolutely no chance. I mean, it seemed like he set his sister up, maybe he did the same to you,” Gary finished.

“Well, you’re just full of good cheer,” I told him. “Maybe he even injected me with a little zombie plague for shits and giggles.”

“It’s possible Mike,” BT added.

“Nobody thought to voice these friggen’ concerns before I let Bat Boy bite me?”

BT shrugged his shoulders but since I was attached to his hip my feet now dangled four inches off the ground as he made the gesture.

“Michael?” Eliza asked almost sweetly.

“Mike’s not here!” Gary yelled.

I could feel BT’s head turning around. “You kidding me?” he asked Gary.

“I mean, he’s sleeping!” Gary told Eliza.

“Get him!” Eliza said with not a hint of her earlier merriment.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Gary said.

“Don’t they have medication for what ails you Talbots?” BT asked.

“I’m still looking!” Gary yelled in a different direction to make it sound like he had moved.

“One minute, Michael, or the deal is off,” Eliza said furiously.

“I’m here,” I rasped.

“Has the shroud of death settled over you yet? It is a cold cloak, wet with the tears of mourning loved ones and broken dreams,” Eliza asked.

“They don’t make one in his size, bitch!” BT roared. “You should know that by now!”

“Durgan will be ready in ten minutes, will you?” Eliza laughed as her voice trailed behind her descent back down the stairs.

“I don’t like her very much,” BT said.

I would have agreed but I was in the midst of passing out again.

‘Michael, I have stalled as long as I possibly can, you need to get up.’

‘Tomas? Oh no, you’re in my head again.’

‘My sister and Durgan will be on the roof in less than five minutes.’

‘Was this a trick?’

‘Get up!’ Tomas shouted in my head.

Can someone go deaf from shouting WITHIN their head? ‘I’m up!’ I shouted back, but the connection was broken.

“Michael, there are no surprises waiting for us are there?” Eliza asked suspiciously.

“I’m up!” I shouted again, this time vocally. “Sorry,” I said to those around me as I sat up.

“Well, that’s an improvement,” BT said, “Can you do any better than that though? Unless of course Durgan wants to thumb wrestle you to death.”

“Don’t you have some nails you can chew or something?” I asked him. “Help me stand.”

“Michael?” Eliza asked again.

“What?” I said testily. “Oh. No, there are no surprises, our original agreement is in effect.”

“You won’t mind then if I send some of my army in to verify that?” she asked.

“You sound awfully frightened for being the Lord of All You Survey,” I rang out.

Mrs. Deneaux got a good chuckle out of that one. She tipped her cigarette to me.

“Go ahead, send in your smelly minions!” Gary yelled.

“You felt the need to invite them, did you?” Tracy asked him.

“No more than a hundred,” I said to Eliza.

‘Why?’ BT mouthed.

“I’m hoping by having to count them it’ll take longer,” I told him.

“Michael, what trick are you trying to play?” Eliza asked, her dark eyes narrowing.

“No trick, I just want the fighting ring to be as big as possible,” I told her.

“It’s so the little faggot can run away like a screaming little bitch!” Durgan yelled.

“Someone got their ‘roid injection today,” BT said.

“Three hundred, Michael,” Eliza said.

“Fine,” I told her. “Even better,” I said to BT. It would take longer.

After a few minutes of zombies filing in like students into an auditorium, Durgan pushed his way through the throng. Two of them fell on their faces, and he smashed his heel down onto one of the fallen zombie’s temple. The sound was much like that of a large beetle being squished, it was not pleasant.

“That’s going to mess up your count,” I said, taunting him.

“Don’t care, there’s more of them, there’s always more of them.”

I could only agree.

“But me,” he said, pointing to his chest, “there’s only one of me.”

“Thank the God above for that,” BT said.

Again, I could only agree.

“You stay out of this, black man. I came here to kill Talbot.”

“Damn Mike! Durgan has gone all PC on us,” BT said admiringly.

“Must be the anger management classes,” I said, holding on to BT’s side, trying my best to make it look like that wasn’t what I was doing.

“I’m going to make this slow, Talbot,” Durgan said while grinding his fist into his palm.

“The slower the better,” I told him.

“You’re fucking nuts!” he yelled to me, clearly confused at my answer.

“Nucking futs,” I said.

“What is wrong with him?” Durgan asked BT as if he was going to get a valid response.

“Hopped up on bath salts,” BT said.

“What are you talking about?” Durgan asked. These were not the responses he was expecting to receive and it was throwing him off his game.

“Bath salts,” Gary said. “They’re all the rage in Paris, haven’t you ever tried them?”

“Paris is gone you idiots!” Durgan screamed.

“Oh, my poor pet,” Eliza said coming up behind Durgan. “So strong in body, yet not in mind.”

Durgan’s rage subsided as Eliza stroked his face.

“Are you about ready for the void of life?” Eliza asked me impatiently.

“A cigarette?” I asked Eliza. She looked like she was about to respond in the negative.

“Come, Sister,” Tomas said, stepping onto the roof. “We must be cultured, all condemned men are granted their final wish.”

“Wait, then I would like to change my request.”

“A cigarette then,” Eliza said.

Mrs. Deneaux was a good ten feet away. I was positive I couldn’t make it on my own and it wouldn’t look good if BT dragged me over there.

“Mrs. Deneaux, would you do the honors?” BT asked, over-exaggerating with his head a ‘come hither’ motion.

At least she was quick on the uptake, and for once she didn’t have anything snide to say as she came over and (thankfully) placed the cigarette in my mouth and lit it. I barely had enough steam to inhale and luckily none at all to cough.

“This is ridiculous!” Durgan cried. “How long can it take to smoke a cigarette? You have to finish that damn thing eventually and I’m going to make you pay for delaying the inevitable.”

“Worse than death? You twit,” Mrs. Deneaux said.

“I’ll kill you just for fun you old hag,” Durgan said to her, pointing his finger.

Never skipping a beat Deneaux answered. “Worse than you have tried. Give it your best shot.”

“All of a sudden I like you,” I told Mrs. Deneaux as I gingerly crushed the cigarette under foot. If it had offered even the least resistance I would have toppled over.

“Michael, you don’t look well,” Tomas said.

‘Thanks!’ I wanted to yell at him.

“Nothing a case of the deads won’t cure,” Durgan said.

“The deads?” I asked.

“Make the black man move,” Durgan said as he approached steadily, fists clenched by his sides.

Halfway to me and BT had not yet let go. I could feel him fighting within himself to throw me to the side and fight Durgan. It would be an awesome spectacle, just like when I was ten and my friend and I would watch Creature Double Feature on the UHF channel (if you don’t know what UHF is, it’s a dark time in our planet’s history, when we only had about five or six channels to choose from; it was hideous. No 24/7 cartoons, sports or comedy. I shudder to remember the days.) Godzilla versus King Kong, it would have been awesome.

“Michael, if BT does not move, we are done here,” Eliza said evenly.

“BT,” I said.

“I can’t man, he’s going to kill you.”

“What about that whole thing about death not having the right size for me and all.”

“Oh, I was just saying that.”

“You really suck man, now let me go.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” ‘No.’

“This is going to hurt you way more than me.” Durgan said smiling.

“How are you walking so well?” I asked truly wondering not just stalling this time.

“I’m cured man!” Durgan shouted.

“How do you get ‘cured’ from an amputated leg?” Now I was really curious.

“Eliza…” Durgan was cut short as Eliza yelled at him to finish me.

Well that one name pretty much answered my question irregardless that it was a cut short answer.

For each step back that BT took, Durgan took two forward. I swayed back and forth like a tall reed in a soft summer breeze. The best thing that I could ask to happen was that I would be on the back bend when Durgan swung. The audible crack as my jaw burst echoed throughout my skull, the reverberations finally ending in my left pinkie toe, and no I do not know why.

I could vaguely hear Durgan screaming at me to get up so that he could finish me off. It was much more comfortable where I was. I could hear Tracy and Gary, pretty much everyone urging me up, their urgent cries ringing in my ears. But I was falling deeper; the red of pain was rapidly becoming the black of unconsciousness.

It was them that I held on for. Durgan would only wait so long to get from me what he felt I owed him. If I were to pass out, he would still finish me off, most likely starting with a few rib crushing kicks followed by some face pummeling blows, capped off with my head in his hands as he cracked my neck. I might not experience any of the pain involved, but my family and friends surely would.

My jaw rattled in my head, teeth grinding against teeth as I turned over trying to get leverage with arms that couldn’t support Gumby. A fresh wave of nausea and pinpointing blackness threatened to thwart my best efforts as my arms gave. I collapsed, jaw first, onto the tarred roof.

“That’s right, you piece of dung. Get up!” Durgan yelled, “What? No witty comeback you shithead?” His spittle rained down on me.

The thought of uttering anything more than a throaty moan made me wish for my mother, and I hadn’t done that since I was six.

“If you don’t get up in the next minute I’m going to start teaching your wife what it means to be with a real man,” Durgan boasted.

“You even look at her funny and you’ll be licking your own asshole!” BT yelled.

“You’re welcome,” BT said as I gave him the thumbs up sign, my face still buried in the roof.

Henry charged at Durgan. If I could have screamed at him to stop, I would have. Not that he would have listened. That’s the sort of relationship we have, I give him cookies, he does as he pleases. Henry wrapped his muzzle around Durgan’s lower leg. He must have put all his strength into it because Durgan screamed to the heavens, although they would have turned a blind eye to him as they had to me. He shook his leg violently and swatted Henry away. Henry yelped as he went tumbling twenty feet away. I was thankful to whatever was watching over me now that Durgan was only able to land a glancing blow. Henry came to a stop by the edge of the roof. I could tell his head was reeling as he looked up, eyes not focused on anything, but he’d be all right. More than I could say for me.

The pain in my jaw had begun to ebb. I attributed it to the high octane adrenaline injection from Durgan’s threat. To threaten me was one thing, my family? Well, that takes on a whole new level, and to top it off the asshole hurt my dog!

“You don’t understand now, Lawrence,” Durgan sneered. “I can kill you too, just as easily as I can kill him,” he said pointing over to my mostly prone body.

“He’s not quite dead yet,” Gary said, quoting Monty Python as I struggled to gain vertical-ability.

“Did you really just do that Uncle Gary?” Travis asked.

Gary smiled diffidently.

Durgan turned to see me. I was now resting on my knees. I probably could have stood at this point, but I was busy listening to the knitting of the bones in my mouth. It was disturbing. The grinding as molar scraped across canine was akin to biting down hard on fork tines.

Durgan looked at me in alarm as color began to wash back into my face, from winter pale to spring hale. He gave a quick glance to Eliza as if expecting direction, but none was forthcoming.

I put my left foot under me and stood up shakily. I wouldn’t be scaring a Girl Scout, but Durgan looked like he was having second thoughts.

“I broke your jaw, Talbot. Now I’m going to break your spine,” he said as he advanced again.

It hurt like hell to say it but it was worth every snap and pop as I moved my still healing facial bones. “Bring it,” I said as I put my hands up in the old school boxing fashion, fists upside down and all.

I tried to dance around like Muhammad Ali, but I think I looked more like Whitney Houston (you know… can’t dance).

Durgan bull rushed me. I was still operating on something close to seventy-five percent of the old Talbot, but it was way more than he was expecting. So when I side stepped his advance and put everything I could muster into his kidney, his heavy expulsion of air was all I needed to know that I had surprised him and potentially inflicted an iota of damage.

“You should have just stayed down,” Durgan said as he turned. His eyes glowed with a festering heat of hatred and contempt. “I might have made it relatively painless,” he said, advancing but much more slowly and warily.

And without warning he struck, like a cat let loose from a tight trash bag. I didn’t think anything that big could move that fast. His ham-sized fist slammed into my temple. If it hadn’t first caught my upraised fist he would have killed me. Upgrade or not, he would have caved my skull. For the second time I went down, this one with more force than the first. My jaw dislocated as the side of my face bounced from the impact.

“Fuck you Talbot!” Durgan shrieked, standing over my body with his fists by his side, veins bulging out on his neck, his arms throbbing with power.

The pain was intense, but something was happening within me. What started as a ten on the pain index and should have taken days and heavy doses of opiates to alleviate rapidly began to climb down the pain-o-meter. Ten became an eight, which in turn became a five, and then a distant memory at a one or a two.

“And to think I once thought you might be a tough opponent. You ain’t shit!” he screamed.

“You talk too much,” I said as I got my feet back up under me.

If Durgan’s neurons would have just fired a little quicker and he never gave me the chance to get up, then my family would have been doomed. But he just kept watching in amazement as I got completely up onto my feet.

“You should be dead!” he yelled.

“But yet here I am,” I said softly, trying my best to not engage my jaw. A lot easier written than said.

“This can’t be. I’m five times the man I was. You should be dead!” he screamed in consternation, “Eliza, it’s not working. I hit him with everything I had, you promised!”

Eliza looked over to Tomas who never betrayed anything, but the proof was in my unwillingness to die.

“I fear, my pet, that the rules to the game have been changed,” Eliza said.

“What does that mean?” he asked her.

“It means that Michael has cheated and as such our agreement is void,” Eliza said.

“Not true, Eliza,” I said to her. “You said I could not accept help from anyone on this side. You said absolutely nothing about help from your side.”

Eliza was trying to find a loophole in her agreement. I could see the machinations working behind her black eyes. “Very well,” was her grudging response.

Durgan was being unbelievably slow on the uptake of this new information. He could take as long as he desired. I wasn’t waiting for him to figure it out. I swung a roundhouse that started somewhere south of Detroit and struck him flush in the nose. Blood blew in a circle away from the impact. His eyes immediately flooded with tears as he dropped down to his knees.

“Yeah!” BT shouted.

With my other arm I hooked an uppercut that shattered all of Durgan’s front teeth, pieces of which intermingled with the growing puddle of blood pooling on the roof. Durgan began to sag forward. I kneed him in his already destroyed nose; shards of bone drilled into my knee as the impact also drove pieces up into his brain casing.

“Ris ran’t ree happenin,” Durgan said through a jumble of broken teeth.

“Oh, I assure you it is,” I said, punching him in the back of the head as he began to pitch forward.

Durgan was face first on the ground, his ass still up in the air. It was a comical pose but it contained no humor in it.

“This is for Jed,” I said as I reared back and kicked him square in the ribs. At least two snapped as he fell onto his side. “This is for shooting me!” as I kicked him flush in the stomach. The force of the strike rolled him over onto his back, a gale of wind fused with blood expelled from his mouth. “This is for Jen!” I said kicking him in his junk. I thought Jen would appreciate that, being the man hater that she was. I got a sick sort of satisfaction out of that.

“This is for the little kids at Carol’s house!” I cried, bringing my heel up.

“Talbot!” my wife yelled.

I wavered in midair.

“That’s enough! He’s done.”

He should have been dead, he really should have, but we weren’t playing by the same rules any more. As if to prove my point, Durgan began to stir. In a few more minutes he’d probably be fine and I wouldn’t be able to surprise him twice.

“He’s got no choice,” BT told Tracy as she turned her back on the horrific scenario.

I brought the heel of my boot down on the bridge of Durgan’s nose. His skull snapped like a fragile egg, blood and brain matter splayed out across the ground.

“You’re next Eliza!” I yelled, grinding my gore soaked boot even deeper into the recess of what once housed Durgan’s mad melon.

At some point during the fracas, Eliza had left the rooftop unnoticed, taking her zombies with her.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO – Talbot Journal Entry 17

Zombie Fallout 3: The End…

Continues Michael Talbot's quest to be rid of the evil named Eliza that hunts him and his family across the country. As the world spirals even further down into the abyss of apocalypse one man struggles to keep those around him safe. Side by side Michael stands with his wife, their children, his friends and the wonder Bulldog Henry along with the Wal-Mart greeter Tommy who is infinitely more than he appears and whether he is leading them to salvation or death is only a measure of degrees.

As Justin continues to slip further into the abyss he receives help from an unexpected ally all of which leads up to the biggest battle thus far.

Timothy was not a good man in life being undead did little to improve his disposition. Find out what a man trapped in his own mind will do to survive when he wakes up to find himself a zombie controlled by a self-aware virus.