For the Fallen Page 4

“If I’d wanted to do that, I would have. What kind of narcissistic, self-absorbed

  bitch do you think I am?”

  “If you weren’t pointing that gun at me, I’d probably tell you.” He handed the axe

  over.

  She laughed. “That’s the funniest thing anyone’s said to me all day.”

  “Can I put my clothes back on?”

  She looked one more time over at him. “Please do, all that pale skin is burning my

  eyes.” She got the truck rolling just as the first of the zombies impacted with her

  front end. The truck kept right on rolling as it flattened three of them into the

  pavement.

  Mrs. Deneaux’s new passenger braced himself as if the truck cared at all for the small

  speed bumps.

  “What’s your name?” Mrs. Deneaux asked, completely unconcerned with the zombies that

  had congregated in the roadway.

  “You should look out,” he said in alarm.

  “For them? They don’t care.” She picked up speed. A plume of brackish blood spread

  from the impact, two different colored eyeballs smacked the windshield. “Don’t see

  that every day.”

  “Dennis, my name is Dennis,” the hitchhiker said, keeping an eye on the side-mounted

  rear view mirror.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” Dennis asked, turning to her.

  “Did I get a strike?” she asked, referring to the zombies that had been set up loosely

  like bowling pins.

  “You’re sick, but you left a seven-ten split.”

  “You keep that up and we’ll get along fabulously. What’s your last name?”

  “Waggoner.” Dennis shifted around to put his briefs and pants back on.

  “What’s your story?”

  “I bet yours is more interesting, but I’ll give you the short of it,” he told her.

  “I was staying at my dad’s.”

  Mrs. Deneaux looked over at him. “Little old to be a cellar dweller aren’t you?” she

  asked haughtily.

  “Right before the zombies had come, I was in the midst of a divorce from my wife.

  We lived out in Arizona…where she’s from. When I caught her cheating with the garbage

  man I decided to move back to my home town of Walpole.”

  “The garbage man, was that a step up?”

  “I see you’ve taken your show on the road.”

  “No kids?”

  “Dodged a bullet there. Apparently God frowns upon demon spawn and human procreation.”

  “Where’s Walpole?”

  “Massachusetts, south of Boston,” Dennis said, slightly muffled as he pulled his undershirt

  on.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. “You’re a few hours from home.”

  “My father’s place was great. He owned a townhome in the center of town. Place was

  like a fortress. Had a couple of skirmishes with zombies and some idiots that wanted

  in, but no one ever did. Get in, I mean. Once the zombies started retreating…”

  “Hibernating,” Mrs. Deneaux explained.

  “That makes sense. Well, once they started doing that, it was pretty easy to go out

  on supply runs. Although, we were never really in too much danger. My dad lived in

  a retirement building. Most of the folks, well, they died in those first few days.”

  Mrs. Deneaux thought about. ‘Sure; most of those people would have been first in line

  for the shots, and then first in line at the hospital when they started to get sick.’

  “We just took what we needed and shared with the survivors that were in there.”

  “Did your father get bit?” she asked.

  “No, good old fashioned flu did him in.”

  “Ironic,” Mrs. Deneaux said.

  “How so?”

  “It was the flu inoculation that started all this.”

  “The flu shot?”

  “You didn’t know? I thought that to be common knowledge.”

  “No wonder there were so few residents left.”

  “The bulb burns brightly above your head,” she said snidely.

  “Now I can see why you were alone in this cab.”

  She laughed. “You still haven’t answered why you’re up here. Why not stay in your

  father’s place?”

  “After I buried him, I did stay for a while. I guess I just got lonely and I sure

  wasn’t going to look for my ex, though. She probably was leading a group of the zombies

  around on her own sinister designs. I have, uh had, a couple of friends out in Colorado, but I couldn’t even conceive of making that

  trip.”

  Mrs. Deneaux got a tingle up her spine. “Any chance your exes name was Eliza?”

  “What? No. My friends out in Colorado…one of them has family up here in Maine, as

  close to being my family as can be possible without blood. It seemed like an easier

  trek up here, at least until my Monte Carlo broke down.”

  It can’t be, Mrs. Deneaux thought. She had put the pistol back in its holster, but now she was

  reaching for it.

  “Who is this second family?” she asked, already knowing the impossible answer.

  “Talbot. My friend out in Colorado is Mike, but I know his whole family…Ron, Gary,

  Glenn, Lyndsey, and their dad Tony. All of them except for Glenn live up here, and

  who knows, maybe Mike came home too.”

  Her left hand wrapped around the grip. She squeezed it so tight it hurt her arthritic

  fingers. “They’re all dead,” she told him, uncharacteristically losing her cool.

  “What? You can’t possibly know that. And why would you even say such a thing?”

  “It’s the truth.” She pulled the gun an inch or so from her holster. She was debating

  just putting a bullet in him right now. “I was with Michael when he left Colorado.”

  Dennis was looking at her. “You’re lying. Why?”

  “Is this the same Michael Talbot that lived at Little Turtle? Had a wife named Tracy,

  three kids, Nicole, Justin and Travis? And a smelly beast named Henry?”

  Dennis was looking at her incredulously, his head nodding. He was thinking back on

  what he’d told her, it certainly wasn’t all that. “You know Mike?”

  “Knew,” she corrected him. “I barely escaped with my life. His brother’s house was

  overrun with zombies. I did my best to save them all, in the end it wasn’t enough.”

  Dennis was just staring at her. She was having a hard time discerning how much he

  believed. In the end it was grief that saved Dennis’ life. He turned away just as

  a torrent of tears sluiced down his face. “They’re all I knew.” He hitched. “I…I thought

  for sure they’d be alright.”

  “It’s a hard world,” Mrs. Deneaux said, taking a sidelong glance at him.

  It was many miles before anyone spoke.

  “Where are you going?” Dennis asked, wiping his face clean.

  “Going to try and find somewhere safe. Somewhere with a community and a high wall.

  A real high wall.”

  “I was going to ask you for a ride to find a car, but now that seems useless. Do you

  mind if I stay with you?”

  Mrs. Deneaux almost told him no; being this close to one of Michael’s friends could

  not be good. For some reason, the fates had aligned to put him in her path. That was

  something she couldn’t figure out. For good or bad, she would see this through, at

  least partly. As soon as it looked somewhat bad, she’d toss him or shoot him, whatever

  the case necessitated. “Just don’t try to make any moves on me,” she cackled.

  She’s nuts
, Dennis thought, and she’s all I’ve got. “I’ll do my best,” he told her.

  Chapter 4 – Mike Journal Entry 3

  “I can barely remember my name,” I said to Tracy.

  “What?” she asked .

  “You f—”

  “Talbot!”

  “…my brains out,” I finished.

  “It’s stuff like this that makes me think twice and sometimes three times about doing

  anything with you. Get your clothes on before people start looking for us.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, all this nudity is very liberating,” I told her, wishing I could

  just lie there a few years longer, even if we were in the horror book section.

  “Yeah? Tell that to the zombies,” she said, looking at my rapidly deflating manhood.

  “You really know where to hit a person.”

  “I love you, Talbot. Now get your ass up. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Nice view,” I told her as she walked away.

  She flipped me the bird, but I could tell she was smiling.

  “I might die tonight, but at least I’ll go out happy.” I stood and began donning my

  duds. I had just finished tying my boots when BT rounded the corner.

  “Ever hear of your inside voice?” he asked.

  “What?” I could feel fingers of heat traveling up my neck.

  “Acoustics are pretty good in this place,” he said, smiling. “The boys couldn’t get

  down in the basement fast enough to go and check it out, been down there the entire

  time. Even Henry looked a little embarrassed.”

  “Shit. Does Tracy know? She’ll kill me.”

  “Oh, from the sounds of it, I think she’ll be fine for the time being.” He was smiling

  ear-to-ear. “Always one for ambience I see,” BT said, pointing to the column of scary

  tomes.

  When I caught up to her, Tracy seemed completely unaware that none of her kids would

  look her—or me for that matter—in the eye. Well this sucks, I thought.

  “Anything worth noting in the basement?” I asked them, trying to change what they

  were thinking about. Talk about uncomfortable.

  Justin was conspicuously looking off to his left. “There’s windows, but they’re small

  and don’t even open.”

  “Yeah and the door is steel,” Travis added. “It’s locked and we stacked a bunch of

  furniture against it.”

  “Big bunch,” Tommy said. I swear his face was a couple of shades deeper red than I’d

  ever seen.

  Henry was at least happy to see me. He came over, tail wagging. I was happy to lean

  over and pet behind his ears. It gave me the chance to not have to try and ignore

  the six hundred pound gorilla in the room.

  Travis had gone over to the windows. “There’s more coming. Should we start shooting

  them?”

  “We’ll hold off for now. Wait for the cavalry to come, I’d imagine we’re going to

  need the rounds then.” I was looking around. With the appropriate supplies, we could

  hold out here forever. I was sort of amazed that someone else hadn’t thought of it.

  If books were edible we’d be set.

  “When we get out of here, find Doc and get Justin and BT fixed, we should find a fort,”

  I blurted out.

  “That’s a lot of whens and ifs,” BT said.

  “The last military installation we went to didn’t work out so well,” Tracy said, referring

  to Camp Custer.

  “I’m talking like that fort we visited in Bucksport Maine, Fort Knox. That place has

  like two-foot thick walls. We could stay there forever.”

  “That place is about as comfortable as I suspect Mrs. Deneaux’s place would be,” she

  replied.

  She was right; the fort was cold and dank, even in the middle of the summer, we’d

  freeze before winter ever set in. “I wonder what the battle axe is up to?”

  We had searched for her body after the battle with no luck. I couldn’t imagine a zombie

  eating her, more like the other way around would be my guess.

  “She can’t still be alive can she?” BT asked. “Eliza had to have killed her.”

  “My guess is she scared Eliza, too,” I said.

  “It would be just like that old bird to make it,” BT said.

  “She’s a survivor for sure. Let’s just hope we’ve seen the last of her,” Tracy replied.

  “More like a case of herpes, got a feeling she’ll be revisiting,” I said.

  “Wonderful,” BT and Tracy said.

  Chapter 5 – Mrs. Deneaux

  “Go check it out,” Mrs. Deneaux said.

  “Why me?” Dennis asked, looking at the store-front.

  “You don’t expect me to go dashing about do you? I’m a frail old woman.”

  “You’re an older woman, granted. Frail though? I don’t think so.” Dennis exited the

  truck. “Can I have a gun?” he asked, coming up on her side of the big rig.

  “I should think not.” She handed his hand axe down.

  “I’ve made my share of poor life decisions,” he said, looking up at her. “I think

  I’m adding to the tally.”

  “Stop being overly dramatic and go get some supplies. If you take too long I won’t

  wait.”

  “And here I thought we were making inroads with our friendship.”

  Dennis headed toward the front entrance. The reverberation of the engine bouncing

  off the storefront blocked out all other noises. He thought about asking her to shut

  it off, but he’d been with her long enough to know the answer. His boot crunched on

  mounds of broken glass, all from the windows, the door, however, was surprisingly

  intact.

  A small bell placed strategically over the door heralded his entrance. The foreign

  sound almost sent him running. The inside stunk of bleach and the all too familiar

  stench of death, like there had been a hideous crime performed here and someone had

  tried valiantly to clean up after. The store was destroyed; there was little of any

  value still left inside. A gun battle had raged and, by the splatter, the ones wielding

  the weapons had used shotguns.

  Dennis went in a little farther. He felt like he was between a rock and a hard place.

  If he came out with nothing, she might leave; and if he stayed in too long, she’d

  leave. The more he thought about it, the better of an idea that sounded like. There

  was more to the Mike story and the flippant way she had dismissed their deaths. He’d

  stay with her if only to find out. A glint of glass caught his attention. He bent

  over, pushing away a half-destroyed box of Cheerios.

  “Well shit, not my flavor, but I’ll drink it.”

  He wrapped his hand around the neck of a bottle of bourbon somehow unscathed in the