The End Read online

  "Sorry," he gurgled. There is something disturbingly fascinating about watching half digested round meat slices swirl through the air in a haze of brownish bile. My reverie was short lived as much larger rounds punched through the air. The Flapper fell in a puddle of his own making. Mark took a few more shots, actually felling one of the smaller zombies. Travis' shotgun ended the minor threat that had unveiled itself.

  My dad had come down to the edge of the pond to see if he knew any of the men, but the gory nature of zombie killing can make even the most basic of identification damn near impossible.

  "The big guy with the peeled back scalp looks like a guy I'd seen a few times in the post office. The other three, can't really tell." My dad looked more than a little upset. "Haven't had any this close to the house in over a week."

  "We tend to have that effect," I said absently.

  Gary's dry retching filled the air.

  "You alright?" Ron asked him.

  Something along the lines of "fine" was Gary's only response. A perimeter of brown now encircled the tree he was perched in.

  Ronnie's youngest daughter Melissa ran out of the house to see what all the 'to do' was about. Like a typical teenage girl, she was way late to the party. All she got to witness was Gary's fragile constitution expressing itself.

  "Oh my God, why is everyone out here watching Uncle Gary puke. Eww, that is so gross! It's way too cold out here. Why does Mark have a rifle? Do I smell gunpowder or is that Uncle Gary? Dad, are you going to get Aunt Lyndsey away from the stove, she's making the house smell like dead mice again! Mom says Mark has to clean his room. Can't you make my cell phone work again? I haven't heard from my friends in Massachusetts in forever. Do you think I could turn on the second generator, I really want to use a hair dryer. Are there dead guys over there? Oh gross, I'm so not cleaning that up." The whirlwind that was Missy immediately turned and fled back into the house. The scene was once again quiet, broken only by Gary's gurgling geyser.

  Ron came down to inspect the situation, then looked over at me. "You had nothing to do with this little brother."

  "Can you be so sure? Ron, she took down a fully fortified military base in a few hours."

  "This is just a coincidence."

  I wasn't nearly as convinced as he was. She couldn't have found us this quickly, could she? She had Tommy and if she could follow his link to us then that was really the answer, wasn't it? That's why I hadn't heard anything from the kid. He knew that too. "Oh Tommy." My gut was beginning to feel a lot like Gary's.

  My sister poked her head out the door. "Breakfast!" she yelled. Gary threw up again. Now I don't know if it was in response to my sister's threat but his timing was impeccable.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT - JOURNAL ENTRY 30 -

  "You can't be serious, Mike?" Tracy asked. I stopped packing to look over at her. "You don't honestly think those zombies were from Eliza?"

  "They probably weren't, at least not this time, but it really is only a matter of time. Eventually Justin's shots will run out or Tommy is going to cave and the mind highway is going to open at that point. Eliza will just waltz on down the yellow brick road."

  "Nicole won't stay behind, and are you going to be the one to tell BT he's staying here?"

  "It's for the best, and I really wish you'd stay here too," I said grabbing her shoulders tenderly.

  She shrugged my hands off. "Not a chance. Tommy has as much access to me as he does to you, and I don't trust you not to get into trouble."

  "But I've been doing it for so long, why stop now," I asked facetiously.

  "Yeah, I just wish you weren't in such a rush to hook up with it again."

  "This is my … our family I cannot bring her to them. She's already taken Tommy away. I will not let her do us more harm."

  "Do you think you can get him back?"

  "I have to try." Which loosely translated to, 'I doubt it, but I'll die trying.' Now the hard part of the equation was, was I willing to sacrifice my two sons in a vain attempt?

  "If Nicole stays behind, can't Tommy link to her?" Tracy asked.

  It was a valid question. Tommy was so completely enamored with her, he could barely say 'hi.' Making that intimate linkage through the mind would probably shut him down. I smiled wryly at that thought. I missed that kid. So much so that I would be willing to try one of his cherry frosted sausage Pop-Tarts.

  "I'll tell Nicole, but you get the pleasure of telling BT."

  "I'd rather eat Lyndsey's cooking!" I groused.

  "Come on, be realistic. BT will only kick your ass. Your sister's cooking can kill you."

  "True. What about your mom?"

  "I think she'll be thrilled to stay here. She'll be able to watch over Nicole, and truth be told I think she might be a little smitten with your dad."

  "Really?"

  "Why not? You had to get your good looks from somewhere."

  Man, that woman knew how to stroke my ego. I was the violin and she was the world-class musician. The real damned problem was that I knew I was being played. I just couldn't do anything about it. "Wouldn't that make us brother and sister if they hooked up?"

  "First off I don't think they'd use the term 'hooking up' and second, ewww, what is wrong with you?"

  I grew serious. "You know, Tracy, I'd prefer you stay here also."

  "I know you would,." she said, stroking my cheek. She turned to go downstairs and talk to her daughter.

  That was the end of that discussion. How the hell was I going to tell BT and survive? I did the long march down the hallway. Nicole was on the couch wrapped up in her grandmother's arms, both had tears streaking down their faces. BT was sitting across watching the entire scene unfold. He looked over at me suspiciously. "Don't you even think it, Talbot." He fairly thundered. "I can't eat any more of your sister's food," he added in a conspiratorial tone.

  Melissa had been standing at the entry to the living room. "It'll be alright, Nicole, this way I can brush your hair and then Dad will have to let us turn on the extra generator for the hair dryers and then we can give each other pedicures and manicures, it will be amazing! So what do you think of Justin Bieber? I always thought he was a little too pretty, but I'd still go out with him. Did you watch the Twilight movies? Oh, why couldn't we have had vampires or werewolves instead of stinky zombies and then there was this one time when this boy Matt kissed me and my whole face felt hot. He was super cute and he was going out with Cathy Jacobsen, I can't stand her but I would have kissed him anyway." As Melissa rambled on, Nicole cried harder.

  "Mike, my man. Come on," BT said pleadingly.

  "BT, I can't think of anyplace I'd rather have you than by my side, but you need to heal."

  "Then wait."

  "We don't have that kind of time my friend. She'll find us long before then. It has to be this way. She won't be expecting me to come for her."

  "Said the mouse to the eagle," BT said dejectedly.

  "Appreciate the sentiment," I retorted sarcastically.

  "You know what I meant."

  "Yeah, unfortunately it's a fitting analogy."

  "I'm going with you," I heard from behind me. I didn't turn around, I knew who the artificially deep voice belonged to.

  "Thanks, Gary," I said, looking squarely at BT. I was going to add that this was a family thing, but hell if BT wasn't family.

  "You dead set on this expedition?" Ron asked. I merely nodded. I didn't want to do it. I had to do it. "I've got something for you then," he said as he quickly left the room.

  My hope was for a cloak of invincibility, the shortwave radio transmitter he gave me was the next best thing.

  My dad steered clear of me for the next two days leading up to our departure. For as much as he stayed away, BT made up for it, damn near crawling up my ass. My dad's avoidance hurt. Every time I walked into a room he was in, he would walk out. I don't even think he was doing it intentionally. Maybe it was his subconscious way of reconciling my upcoming departure. Nicole was disconsolate. Her hormo
nes were already out of whack because of the pregnancy and her family leaving her behind was not sitting well. The only thing that kept her from constantly barraging me with her pleas was a morning sickness that thankfully lasted all day. More times than not she was relegated to the bathroom.

  Carol was fast becoming a favorite within the Talbot household. She had gently but forcibly pushed my sister out of the kitchen. Much silent cheering ensued.

  I had no idea what day it was when I awoke on the morning of our departure. It was cold but the sun was shining and the sky was a brilliant blue. Still, I couldn't shake the darkness around my heart. Old words haunted me and I wasn't listening to them. 'The sacrifice of the one for the many.' I was endangering five lives for Tommy. How would God transcribe this in his vast bookkeeping ledgers? Folly or wisdom?

  The entire clan was in the kitchen patiently awaiting whatever divine concoction Carol was preparing for breakfast.

  "You always were late to rise," my dad said, the first words he had spoken to me in days.

  "It can't be 6:30," I said in my defense.

  "6:48," Gary threw in for good measure. The face paint he had smeared on his face and lips were getting all over the breakfast roll he was trying to eat.

  "That can't be good for you." Lyndsey told him.

  I wanted to tell her it was probably better for him than what she had been feeding him but I couldn't get the words to come out.

  BT looked miserable, and the distant retching noises from the bathroom told me Nicole felt like he looked.

  "I wish you weren't going little brother," Ron said, getting up from the table. His wife Nancy came up behind him, placing her head on his shoulder as I wrapped my arms around them both. There were no words that could sufficiently express how I felt. My emotions were raggedly torn in two. I was stuck between duty and a hard place.

  One by one we said our goodbyes. The sun was climbing higher into the sky, my misgivings digging deeper, until it finally became my father's turn. I had seen the man cry twice in his life. First when my mom had died and now. I did not like what that implied.

  "You come back here, all of you. Do you understand me?" he said through his tears. "Make sure you bring your brother back too."

  I silently nodded my head up and down. Words would have been intertwined with sobs and then it would have just been a blubbery mess. This was harder than fighting zombies. Heartache loss and homesickness hurt more than war. There was no time to feel emotions in the heat of battle. You merely survived longer than your enemy. I had lived to die another day and that's really the best any of us can do. We were leaving home…again. Some of us, probably all of us, wouldn't make it back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE -

  Eliza strode into the room. She could smell the fear pheromones exude off of the men as they stood patiently waiting for her arrival. She did not acknowledge any of them as she laid down her order. "Prepare your men, we leave in ten minutes."

  "Eliza… mistress," one of the bolder men started. "I, um, that is some of the men are concerned over your hold on the zombies after what happened at the base."

  Eliza crossed the length of the room in less than a blink, her left hand on the top of the man's scalp as she bent his neck far beyond God's original design. Her teeth sank deeply into his neck as the snap of vertebrae echoed off the walls. Nobody stirred as she drank her fill. When she was done, she allowed the empty carcass to fall hollowly to the floor. As she exited the room, the remaining men scrambled to be ready by her deadline.

  Fifty military troop transport trucks, laden with zombies, rolled away from the military base that was up until recently, the largest humanity hold-out in the United States. What little remained was burning uncontrollably. Twenty or so human stock had been rounded up as prisoners. Sort of like a meals on wheels for Eliza.

  Durgan drove the lead humvee. Along with him were Eliza and Tommy. The malevolence that was Eliza was unaffected by the underlying current of virtue that issued forth from Tommy. Those first few days, Tommy had pleaded with the being that looked like his sister. He had learned the hard way, the thing that possessed her body now wanted nothing more to do with him unless it furthered her quest. Tommy had dozens of slashes that were weeping puss and blood and they stung every time he moved. His pain and discomfort seemed about the only thing that brought any emotion from his sister, and it wasn't the kind he was hoping for.

  She turned back to look at him, her eyes blazing with fury. "You know little brother, when I am finally healed, I have decided I will fully turn you."

  Tommy's eyes snapped wide open. He shook his head furiously from side to side.

  "Oh yes," she said, dragging a nail across his cheek bringing up an angry red welt. "We'll be able to have all those fun times that we missed out on all these years." Her throat mimicked a laugh. Her eyes never moved from his. "I think when I finally catch up with Michael Talbot, it would be fascinating for me to watch you drain him of his life." Eliza grasped his face in her hand. His struggles ceased as he realized the futility. "We will rule this new world, little brother, you and I. No more hiding in the shadows."

  Durgan couldn't help but notice she did not mention him in that equation. To question Eliza, however, invoked death.

  CHAPTER FORTY - PAUL AND ALEX -

  For the first three hours since Alex had driven away from the Talbots, he was completely convinced he had made the singular biggest epic mistake of his life. This wasn't about losing money on a sporting bet or picking up the wrong brand of tampons at the store (both of which could land you in a lot of hot water). No, this was about lives, his, his wife's and most importantly, his two small children.

  "Marta, this doesn't feel right,." He said over the rumble of the 500 hp diesel engine. The further they got away from the comforting sphere of Tommy's presence, the more the harsh reality of the world drew closer.

  "I, too, wish that Tommy had come with us," she said, staring straight through the windshield.

  Alex worried that she might be regressing into that near catatonic state she had been in before they got to Little Turtle. Everything had started to turn for the better for the Carbonaras when they arrived there and met Mike and Tommy. Now all that was gained was lost.

  "Should I turn around?" he asked Marta.

  "I still do not think he would come with us, that Michael Talbot has some sort of hold over him," she said, Michael's name coming out more like a swear word than a means of identification.

  Alex didn't think that was the case at all, more like the polar opposite, but he was not going to fight with his wife. The last time he had won she wasn't even there. It had been more of a moral victory. "I meant more along the lines of going with them."

  Marta did not answer for a few ticks longer than was expected in the situation. He held out hope that she might be considering his request. That was a short lived dream. She turned to look at him, dark ringed eyes narrowed to half their normal size, her nostrils flared open, her mouth pinched down to a line. It was not an attractive pose, it was no 'Magnum' from Zoolander. Alex had seen it twice before. Once when the youngest had just been born and he told her that he and a bunch of friends were going to a strip joint, and the second time had been when he told Marta the day before, his mother came to visit for two weeks. Those two transgressions had cost him dearly in kowtowing and flowers. And right now he wouldn't be able to make amends because he hadn't seen a florist in months.

  "Michael Talbot is the devil," she spat. "Death has gotten fat and lazy merely following in Michael's wake. Is it not bad enough he has taken my nephew into the depths of el infierno with him. You do not think that is payment enough?! You think he needs to have our two pequenos also?" She was fairly crying now. "El es el Diablo," she muttered, making the sign of the Trinity on her chest.

  Marta only reverted to her native tongue under times of great distress. The three days after the zombie invasion were laden with a steady stream of the Rosary Prayer's, Our Father's and Hail Mary's. He even thought he rec
ognized some paganism mixed in and they were all in Spanish. No, going back to find Mike was not going to be an option, unless of course he could come across an industrial sized bottle of Ambien. He could slip a few in her water every day, what she didn't know... 'Yeah and when she finally woke up and realized what was happening she'd slip a nail file through the small of my back,' he thought. It still seemed like the right thing to do, even if he could almost feel the grooved surface of the small metal utensil dragging against the jagged edges of his lacerated vertebrae.

  After another hour of uncomfortable silence Alex pulled the truck over. Marta merely looked over at him. "Bathroom break," he said as he slid out of the truck.

  They had no sooner come to a complete stop then Paul rolled open the big door in the back. He jumped down and began popping and stretching his back and legs, his gun left forgotten within the confines of the trailer. Alex couldn't help but remember that Mike's first priority every time they stopped was to check the integrity of their perimeter. Paul could have been eaten twice before he finished his routine.

  "Hey Alex," Paul said, bending at the waist to stretch out his hamstrings.

  "Just what I wanted to see… your ass," Mrs. Devereaux said as she reached the edge of the trailer. "Are you going to keep pretending you're a 25 year old athlete or are you going to help me down off this truck?"

  Paul stood up, looking straight at Alex. "She hasn't quit bitching for the last three hours."

  Alex was extremely thankful he was the only one that knew how to drive the truck. The punishment he took steering the big rig was paltry compared to being stuck in the back with that witch.

  "I wish that BT fellow were still here," she started. "Those blacks know how to drive. Mexicans on the other hand…" she finished off by looking straight at Alex.

  "You're welcome," Alex said, walking away. Alex wished she had gone with Mike, because Mike would have definitely turned around if only to be rid of her wicked tongue.