The End ....

"Holy shit!" Porkchop yelled.

"Dad says you're not supposed to swear." Rachael told him.

"Sorry." He said absently, but he wasn't. His vision was fixed squarely on the gun by Earl's head. "Can I have that?"

My first inclination was to say absolutely not. But more guns meant more chances of freedom. Actually, wasn't really my call, I wasn't in charge here. I deferred to Jesse, after all he was watching them and had already proved adept at the task.

"What do you think Jesse?" I asked him.

I'll give him this, he thought about it for a few seconds, then he handed Porkchop the .22 and grabbed the AK for himself. Porkchop couldn’t have been any more pleased. Blake grabbed the hunting rifle off of Earl's brother. Rachael started to head for the man in the living room. Jesse, Blake and Porkchop in unison, told her 'no way' in three different manners. She stomped her foot and turned away. I could guarantee if we got through the next week together she was going to make their lives a living hell.

I was happy we had saved the Doc's kids and they had saved us but not at all thrilled this now meant we had to kill another nine humans. As any soldier can attest, man is the most cunning, devious prey out there. Zombies were a mindless killing machine. They wouldn't be doing any trigonometry, ok scratch that, bad analogy, I wouldn't be doing any trig either. You get the point though, killing something that has an equal chance of killing you, that's hunting. It's not like a white tail deer is going to hide behind a tree waiting for you and then clobber you on the head with its hoof. I guarantee a lot less people would be trying to get a license come hunting season, although redneck population growth might be kept in check if deer could even the odds.

Alright, I'm off course, I had a major dilemma. If no one got too close I could pull off the illusion that Jesse and Porkchop were fellow fighters. Blake, because of his size would be stretching plausibility, but no way was I going to be able to pull off that a 10 year old girl would be in this fight. Our chances of success depended wholly on being able to blend in. I couldn't leave them here though. Sooner rather than later somebody else was going to come into this house and with the dead bodies and blood everywhere they would not be caught unawares.

"Dad, we should get moving." Justin said as he peered out the window.

"Tie her up." I said without any further clarification.

"Tie who up?" Rachael asked indignantly. "Me?" She asked pointing to herself. "Nobody is tying me up, I'm a woman!" She roared.

"Mr. Talbot?" Porkchop asked querulously.

"Cool. Been wanting to do that since they brought her home from the hospital." Blake said. Rachael looked as if she was going to explode.

"Probably you too." I said pointing to Blake. Rachael smiled, sticking her tongue out at her middle brother.

"What's going on Mr. Talbot?" Jesse asked moving closer and closer to a defensive posture.

"Jesse, we'll never be able to convince those guys out there that these kids are combatants."

"I'm not a kid!" Blake said, his lip trembling.

"You look like you're about to cry." Rachael laughed pointing her finger at her brother.

"I'm sorry Blake, but we have to make it look like you and your sister are our prisoners."

"Dad, it looks like we might be getting some company." Justin said stepping away from the window.

"Alive or dead?" I asked.

"Both."

"Shit, drag Bollie further down the hallway get the pendants and hand them out."

"What are you going to do?"

"Welcome our guests."

Two zombies were halfway up the steps when I opened the front door. Two men trailed a few steps behind, guns at the ready when they saw me.

"Don’t shoot." I said holding up my hands.

"What are you doing in there?" The guy on the left asked.

"Getting some food and a little on the side." I laughed. "There's a feisty one in here."

The zombies approached the front door. It was all I could do to not slam the door in their decaying faces and blow large holes through the faux oak paneling. The two paid me no attention as they bumped up against me trying to get through.

"Can you call off your dogs, I'd like to finish up in here and then they can have the scraps."

The guy on the right licked his lips. "How old?" He fairly drooled.

God forgive me. "Ten," I leered. Inwardly I was repulsed.

"Mind if I watch, maybe get a piece when you're through?" He asked. He was already coming forward. I would spare the lives of these zombies before I would spare his worthless existence.

"We don’t have time for this, Rax. There'll be plenty of that shit when it's over." The smaller guy on the right said.

"Oh hell Haggart, this shit's over 'cept for the fat lady singing. And I want some now." Rax said grabbing his crotch.

The zombies were still pushing up against me, fluids of varying viscosity and color where being transferred from them to me but still Rax was making me sicker.

"Seriously Haggart, nobody's getting anything if these two dip shits get in here." I said pushing one of the zombies back. My hand went nearly four inches into a corroded chest cavity. I did vomit a little in my mouth. Haggart walked up the steps, got to the side of the two zombies, pulled out a colt .45 and took out both zombies with one shot.

I was in shock and doing my best to disguise it, which is nearly useless considering I can't even play poker because I'm so readable.

"What?" Haggart said putting his gun back in its holster. "It's not like they obey commands. 'Sides, we have thousands more," he said laughing. "Anything in there a little older? I mean in a pinch I'll fuck anything." And I believed him. "But them kids can be a little unaccommodating when you're carrying something as big as I am." He leered.

What the fuck is wrong with these people???!! "Yeah there's a 15 year old too." I didn't tell him what sex, by his not asking I took that as a sign that he was an equal opportunity rapist. I backed up into the hallway, making myself appear as large as possible to hide any incriminating evidence. Rax nearly bowled Haggart over trying to get in.

Rax was busy fumbling with his pants when I shut the door. Haggart was first to notice the blood trail.

"The dad." I told him when he looked at me. "Knife through the ribs."

"Hardcore man." Haggart said clapping my shoulder while making himself at home.

Rax was almost finished undoing his belt buckle. I wanted to slice his throat open but Haggart wouldn't put his damn rifle down. I was hoping to avoid a gun battle as the enemy soldiers were entirely too close and would most assuredly investigate.

Haggart was about five feet in front of me, with Rax in between the two of us, when Rachael stepped into the hallway from the far end.

"Please make them stop." She cried. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

"Oh she's hot!" Rax said as his pants fell to the floor. I thanked all that was holy that he had underwear on even if there was more brown than white to them. All's fair in rape and pillage I suppose, as Rax pushed the smaller man out of his way. Rachael cowered as the man headed down the hallway. My chance had come. I grabbed the K-Bar out of my leg sheath and dragged the honed bladed across Haggart's neck. I barely felt any resistance as his skin parted under the pressure. Blood shot out like a fountain. I sliced across the width of his neck cutting deeper than was necessary. I just wanted to hasten his journey to hell. Rax, who was breathing entirely too heavy to hear the final gurgles of his friend, lurched on.

I let Haggart hit the ground. I was in no mood to make his final moments on the planet any more pleasant than they had to be.

Rax turned when the floor under his feet jumped. "What the fuck is going on?" He said angrily.

"You want to mess with my sister? You sick fuck!" Jesse said coming out from the kitchen. "Nobody messes with my sister except for me!" He screamed.

Rax turned from imminent death into the waiting arms of demise as Jesse plunged a butcher knife hilt deep into his stomach. Rax roared from the pain. A back hand sent Jesse skidding across the kitchen linoleum. Rax placed both hands on the hilt and screamed as he pulled it free. I hammered my K-Bar home through the right side of the neck, the point of the blade emerging an inch past the left side of his neck. Blood flowed into his mouth and onto the floor as he fell to his knees, dropping the knife. I pulled my knife free just as he fell face forward. By the sound of the crunching noise his last few moments on this plane of existence were with a broken nose.

"What the hell are you two doing?" I said trying to yell at both kids simultaneously.

"My mom always said I was a good actress. I wanted to see if she was right." Rachael said. She tried for a smile, but even as good an actress as she was she couldn't pull it off with such a gruesome scene in front of her.

"Piece of shit wanted to rape my sister." Jesse said standing up, rubbing his rapidly reddening jaw line.

"You alright?" I asked as I pulled his hand down to get a better look. He nodded.

Blake came in behind his sister. "Don't blame her, Mr. Talbot. It was my idea. I figured you were going to need a distraction."

"It's okay, nobody's hurt," I said. "Just one bruise and 47 accumulated years of therapy and everyone should be fine."

"Dad, we have to get out of here. We're running out of hallway space." Justin said.

"That's funny." I told him. "Sick but funny."

"Got it from you."

"Might have to include you on that therapy time scale." I was worried about Rachael. Sure, she appeared tough and she probably was, with three older brothers, she had to be. But she was still only ten. As a ten year old if this had all unfolded in front of me I probably would have pulled a 'Tommy,' and not our kindly other-worldly Wal-Mart greeter. I'm talking about The Who's rock opera “Tommy.” I'd be catatonic.

"You alright Rachael?" I asked. My heart bled for her. I'll give her this, she was pretty upset, but extremely resistant to letting her brothers know.

"I would like to see my mom now," she said, while coming through the rooms to my right to completely avoid the hallway altogether.

"What if Dad tries to come back here?" Blake asked.

My honest answer was that he'd die trying. There was no way he'd be able to get through. I was happy that I was able to give a more politically correct version of that response though. "We're not going to give him the chance. It'll be easier for us to get to him." That might not be completely true. If he did try and succeed, what then? He'd find a blood bath in his house and his kids missing. I know that would drive me over the edge. I had to hope that Doc was lying low, looking for a chance to come back. There should still be time to get to him before he did anything truly foolish.

"Okay, original plan. Get some rope, we'll tie you and your sister up and we'll go get your dad, my family and get the hell out of here."

A couple of minutes later and we were ready to go.

"Geez we got it, Mr. Talbot, these are slip knots. If we run into any problems we pull on the piece of rope in our hand and the knot will fall away." Rachael said with the disdain that only a pre-teen girl can pull off.

"And then what?" I'd been drilling them the whole time I had been tying them up. It was bad enough when I had my own kids to protect. This was brutal.

"Then we run." Blake said nervously.

"That's the plan, Mr. Talbot?" Jesse asked.

A little thin on the meat side. In fact, 'the plan' was mostly filler, McDonald's would be proud. I shrugged. "It's all I've got."

"Eh, okay." Jesse said stamping his approval on the whole venture.

"Dad, we should get going, the last of the enemy is coming and then it’s the giant truck and I'm pretty sure she's on it." Justin said as he visibly paled.

"Who's she?" Rachael asked.

"The bogeywoman." I said stepping up to the door.

"There's no such thing." She shot back.

"I wish you were right sweetie. Justin, Jesse you two out first, then Blake and Rachael, I'll bring up the rear."

"Dad, aren't they going to wonder why the zombies aren't attacking our prisoners?" Justin asked.

We were actually plus one in the 'Zombie Off' department. "Let's just hope the zombies are far enough ahead that's not going to be a problem." A heavy vibration began at my feet and worked its way up. The Terex was getting close. "Let's go, and stay close."

There was a time when the world was still 'normal.' I had been driving with Tracy to check out a Black Friday sale. I was going 60 miles per hour in the fast lane and still a black Hearse was crawling up my ass. I immediately moved over two lanes because it felt like death was fast approaching, that was how I felt right now. That same unsettling churn of bile in your guts, the kind that threatens to make hot butt mud. Sorry about the graphic nature, the truth is gross sometimes. There was, however, no way to change lanes this time. We were on a one lane highway and it seemed like this one had two way traffic.

I took a deep breath before I stepped out the door and carefully shut it behind me. I hoped no one else would go in or we might become immediate suspects in the death of those five soldiers. I use the term 'soldier' loosely. Maybe I should call them combatants, or traitorous scum, that seems to fit better, but uses more of my pencil lead. Pieces of shit it is then.

I was happy and dismayed at the same time to realize we were not the only hunting party that had acquired prisoners, although ours seemed to be in the best condition. More than one had been bloodied and beaten by their captors. Some had that glazed-over look of the defeated, and then there were those that were suffering from shock who had just witnessed or been party to some form of atrocity that only the cruelest animal on the planet can bring to its own kind. Man was a plague upon itself.

I have first-hand experience knowing that war brings out the absolute worst in the two opposing sides. Even that can't hold a candle to what happens to the human mentality of the victor over the conquered. It is something about having absolute power over another being that drives men to incomprehensible acts of cruelty. People who would normally avoid stepping on an ant hill for fear of killing some of the creatures will rape a screaming woman merely for the fact that they can. It has absolutely nothing to do with lust and everything to do with control. I don't know what evolutionary purpose this depravity serves but it has existed in the human genome from the beginning. Maybe it would have been better if the Neanderthals had won out. They seemed a much more 'civilized' people, except for that one asshole in Clan of the Cave Bear. What was his name? Glar? Blug? Dammit. Broud! Yeah that's it!

Most of the combatants seemed content to stay where they were in relation to the zombies. There might be a truce between the two but that didn't make them friends. We, however, had an agenda laced with time constraints. We looked a little out of place outdistancing the others but nobody questioned us. Rachael did vomit as we got closer to the zombies and their odiferous ways. This brought on some cheering from those behind us. Rachael did her best to flip them off with her hands tied behind her back. Luckily, this act of defiance was shielded by my body.

"You trying to get us killed?" I asked her.

"No, I figured that's what you were doing." She shot back.

"You're good." I said with newfound amazement for the kid's wit.

I was not comfortable walking among the dead, even with the Zombie Off. Hell, anything less than being surrounded by the four-inch thick steel metal of a tank wasn't going to make me feel secure. One overly hungry zombie could ruin our day. I know it made absolutely no difference but I made sure that we stayed away from the fatter zombies. I figured if any of them might be a little hungrier than the rest it would be them. I guess I was being a sort of zombieist. I had always prided myself on not being any sort of racist bigot. I figured I should be able to gain absolution for this transgression though.

The zombies paid us no attention. We might as well have been white trash entering a Neiman Marcus and the zombies were salespeople. If anything, they unconsciously avoided us which made sliding through them a near effortless proposition. If not for the smell, this would nearly be pleasant. Well not really, but you know what I mean, at least we weren't cutting, slashing, shooting and just generally blowing stuff up in our way to get out, this was vaguely acceptable.

"The hospital's coming up, Mr. Talbot!" Porkchop nearly shouted.

Now I'm not so vain as to think that every zombie and bad guy in the region has reason to look out for me, but at the same time I don’t see any reason to take any more undue chances than I already do. "Hey, Porkchop, for now just call me Mike, and are you sure that's where they went?"

"That's what they said. Dad wanted to get some antibiotics for mom. She said she wasn't sick, that she only had allergies, but my dad said she always got bronchitis this time of the year and he wanted to be prepared especially since supplies were so low."

"Alright, let's get there."

"Dad, do you want me to go and check on Mom?" Justin asked.

With all my heart I wanted to go, and if not me I wanted to send Justin, but splitting up was never a good idea and it was something I was already guilty of. I thought with dread of everything that was important to me still a half mile away and in enemy occupied territory.

"No, we finish this and then we all go."

Justin looked dismayed but he did not question my decision.

Within minutes we were at the front entrance to the hospital. By the strewn wheelchairs and gurneys, it was easy to see that we were not the first to get here. A blood trail led behind the nurse's station where a zombie merrily chewed on the lower calf of a nurse that I had come to think of as Nurse Ratchet. It wasn't that she was mean. On the contrary, it was just that she had her hair up in the style that reminded me of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I did not blow the zombie's head off like I wanted to, some things in life have to wait.

"Alright Blake, Rachael take your ropes off. Let's find your mom and dad and get the hell out of here." I said.

"Are they alright?" Rachael asked. I didn't answer.

Blood was everywhere but not in vast quantities. It was almost as if someone had a small paintbrush dipped in blood and kept continuously shaking it over their head. It glistened dully in the fluorescent lighting. Blood was dripping down from the ceiling like a soft violent rain. The kids looked to me as I looked to the tiles above us coated in potential disaster. Was the blood that of the infected? Probably not, but when the ante to play is your life it takes a lot more thought before you go 'all in.' A blood-curdling scream ended my inner hesitation.

"That's my mother!" Blake said as he charged down the hallway.

We all followed. I cringed when I felt a warm patter strike the top of my ear and splash down the side of my face. I was doing the calculations of when I had last shaved and if I had any open wounds on that side. By my reckoning it had been three days since I last dragged the medieval torture device across my face, so all should be well.

I caught up to Blake and grabbed his shoulder just before he busted through the operating doors and into the unknown. From the sounds of it there was a struggle going on and someone definitely needed our help, but the enemy location and strength were still unknown and except for Justin, I only had three kids with me. The advantage of our surprise could be turned on us really quick. A loud slap was punctuated by the throaty laughing of at least three men, possibly four.

"Hold on buddy." I whispered to Blake. I could feel the rage quaking throughout his body.

"But!" he yelled.

I clamped my hand over his mouth. "Quietly Blake." I whispered.

"That's my mom." He said as tears of rage, pain and heartache ran down his face. "She needs my help."

"Yes she does, and we're going to give it to her. But if you go in there without knowing what you're getting into you're not going to help. You'll only make it worse and your mom will be heartbroken if anything happens to you."

"Listen to him Blake." Jesse said. "He's got us this far."

"You cool?" I asked letting his shoulder go.

"I'm fine." He sniffed. "But we need to hurry."

"Oh she's a feisty one!" Someone yelled from the other side of the doors, this also was followed with what sounded like a heavy-handed backhand. Someone hit the floor. It wasn't difficult to figure out whom. Rachael was nearly beside herself with fear. She looked like she was hugging the stuffing out of an imaginary teddy bear.

There were two sets of swinging doors, the set we were up against now, then a five foot air lock followed by the second set and then our ultimate goal. I grabbed Jesse. "Alright Jess, you've got to listen to me, this is a military mission so I need you to understand my orders and obey them. Do you got that?" I asked, as he looked over my shoulder and to the doors. He nodded. "Alright, Justin and I are going through this first set of doors and we are going to try and acquire our targets. You with me?"

"What about me?" he asked, realizing what I was asking.

"You, Porkchop and Blake are first and foremost going to protect your sister. Secondly you are going to protect our escape if it’s needed. If you hear me or Justin yell 'Bug Out,' that means we're going to be coming out that door in a hurry and you need to shoot anybody that comes out after us. If you don’t hear any yelling, you shoot whoever comes out that door. Got it?"

"Shoot the bad guys," he replied.

"That's about it in a nutshell. Protect your sister. We'll get your mom and dad." I hope.

The telltale sound of ripping material made further explanation an unworthy waste of time. Justin and I eased through the first set of doors hopeful that whoever was on the other side was too busy with what they were doing to notice. I stood up, quickly peeking through the observation window in the door.

"There are two to our left, neither is holding their rifles. One is almost immediately in front of us. The only thing he has in his hand is his dick. The fourth is the ringleader and he's just off to the right. Mrs. Baker is right behind him, Doc is tied up almost against the far wall. Now remember like I taught you. There are combatants and friendlies in this room, acquire your target before you shoot. You take the two on the left, I've got the other two."

I blew out three quick breaths. On one, we each pushed through our respective door. In three shots Justin had dispatched of his targets. I was not nearly as lucky, Dickhand had moved to get a better view of the ensuing rape. My door had slammed into his back, slowing my progress. When Justin had begun to open fire, the ringleader had pulled out a knife and true to any piece of shit had used Mrs. Baker as a human shield. Dickhand had fallen completely over when I finally shoved him out of the way.

I had my AR up and pointed at the leader's head but he made sure to make as little of a target of himself as possible as he hunkered behind the much smaller woman. Dickhand thought this was an opportune time to try and stand. A solid kick from my combat boots to his rapidly diminishing hard-on gave him pause to reconsider his efforts.

"Oh, oh fuck. Sam he kicked my junk," Dickhand moaned.

"Listen," Sam said. "We can share, I mean she's a fine piece."

I pulled my gun tighter to my shoulder.

"Fuck, fine!" he yelled. "You can have her, there's plenty more meat here. You…you just put that gun down and tell your friend to do the same and I'll just get out of here."

Dickhand was still on the ground writhing and moaning.

"You let her go and I promise you I won't shoot you."

"Oh I know that trick, you won't shoot me but he will." He said gesturing over to Justin.

"I swear to you as a man of honor neither of us will shoot you or harm you in any way."

"What about Drew there?"

"You mean Dickhand, sure, take his ass with you."

"Can I grab my guns?"

"What do you think?" I said sarcastically.

Sam didn't like the odds. He didn't know that we had a vested interest in Mrs. Baker. To him she was just a war prize. We'd kill her as fast as we had killed his other two buddies. To him there was very little stopping us from wasting everyone in the room.

"You won't kill us, you swear?"

"I already told you, take this piece of shit," which I prodded with my foot sending him into a fresh set of wailings "and get the fuck out. You're trying my patience."

"Fine, you fucking assholes, but she would have been so sweet!" he said. As he pushed Mrs. Baker to the side, he held up both his arms.

"Drop the knife." I told him. "Fuck you" was his not so pleasant response.

I shot him in the elbow. His shattered joint flopped down uselessly and the knife clattered to the floor.

"You fucking promised!" He screamed, clutching his shattered arm. "You fucker!"

During the ensuing exchange Dickhand had managed to crabwalk past me and was halfway through the first set of doors.

"Dad." Justin said motioning to the nearly prone man making a not so hasty retreat.

I was tempted to let him go and let Jesse and the boys exact their own fair share of revenge, but I did not want to burden them with that. Besides Dickhand was naked from the waist down and nobody, especially a ten year old girl, should be exposed to that. I pulled out my .357 and put one straight through his spine. He collapsed heavily to the floor under the crushing weight of the magnum round, dead.

"You fucking promised."

"Yeah about that, I'd like to say I'm sorry but I'm really not." Two rounds to Sam's chest sent him skidding across the floor and nearly into Doc Baker's lap. It would be weeks before I could shake the nightmares from this encounter, even if a greater good had been obtained. The end did justify the means. But is using a bad method to get to a good end, good in and of itself? How was this one going to end up on the ledger of my life, in the win or loss column?

"Mike!" Jesse yelled during the lull. "Can we come in?"

"No!" Justin and I yelled in unison.

“And why are you yelling in here? How do you know we’re even alive?” I yelled.

“Well, because you’re answering me.” Jesse said without any hesitation.

“Pragmatist, we’ll be out soon, you guard our withdrawal.”

Doc's wife, Elizabeth sobbed in the corner as she did her best to repair her torn garments. Justin had untied Doc’s restraints and the doc was busy administering much needed care and attention to his wife.

“You guys alright, Doc?” I asked softly.

The Doc looked over at me, his wife’s face buried into his shoulder. “You came just in time Mike, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you, and you brought my kids, all of them?” He nearly sobbed.

“All of them.” The relief in his face was palpable. “Doc, you saved my life and gave me my son back. I’d say we are fairly close to even. Justin can you check the cabinets and see if you can get Mrs. Baker a robe or something. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Is your family here too, Mike?”

“Not yet Doc.”

Doc understood the implications of my actions. I had forsaken my family’s safety for his.

“Justin.” The Doc said. “In my office, I have some scrubs and a long jacket. Buddha's in there too, grab a cookie out of my desk and he'll follow you to the ends of the earth for it. There's also half a case of your shots. You’ll want to grab those. I’m sorry Mike.” The Doc said turning to me. “I didn’t have enough time to make more.”

“How many are there?”

“About sixty-four.” He said.

Shit, Justin's dose was one a day, two months was better than no months, although six months would have been better.

Justin was back in minutes. He had grabbed extra scrubs and was making a makeshift backpack to carry his much-needed viral disease management syringes.

“Mr. … Mr. Talbot. I mean Mike.” Porkchop yelled. “We’ve got some squishies.” That was Porkchop's name for the deaders.

I had grabbed the pendants off of the dead and gave one to Doc and Elizabeth and kept the extras. Elizabeth seemed hesitant to accept anything from her would-be attackers.

“Zombie repellant.” I told them. “I strongly encourage everyone who values their flesh intact to hold onto it.”

Doc seemed suspicious at best, but as for obtaining visual proof of its effectiveness, his kids rushed in to see their parents. The reunion was powerful, tearful, joyful and for necessity was exceedingly short.

I went through the doors first. A wall of zombies was coming down the hallway. It looked like the last day of school and everyone was trying to be the first one out for the summer. They were shoulder-to-shoulder width wise across the hallway and asses to elbows deep for the entire length.

I ducked my head back in. "Any other way out?"

"That bad?" Doc asked.

"Bad seems like such a lackadaisical verbiage to use right now. I might go with something more along the lines..."

"Dad." Justin said pointing to the kids.

"Everyone have their vial on them?" I asked.

Head nods dominated the room. I took that as an affirmative.

"What about my patients?" Doc asked.

I looked at him and threw as much compassion into the gesture as I possibly could. They were dead. A battalion of zombies were sweeping down the hallways. Even with our immunity we could not use that as a shield for others. I felt sorry for them, I truly did. I hoped each and every one of them was hooked up to a personal pain dispenser so they could load up before the attack. We could stand and fight and take down a fair number of those approaching but it wouldn't be enough, and in the end the only thing I would have gained would be the death of my family. I had already risked enough. A loving God would see that, a vengeful one would not.

Elizabeth had Rachael smothered in her arms. Porkchop and Blake looked envious. Hell I think we all were, who doesn't want to be wrapped tight in their mother's arms when danger is near. Walking amongst the dead in such tight quarters was soul-rendingly difficult. The ripped open flesh of the dead exposed torn muscle and sinew. Broken arteries and veins stood out at odd angles on some of the more damaged. Occasionally intestines and bowels were dragged and trampled behind the unlucky soul. I wondered if Elizabeth would notice if I scootched Rachael over and sought my own piece of solace in her bosom. Anything resembling breathable air had been completely pushed out of the hallway. Chunks of smell assaulted our nasal cavities. Breathing through one's mouth was equally as bad. It's one thing to smell the dead, it's another to taste them. Blake or Porkchop, it may have been both, sprayed vomit freely, the acidic bile smell was comparatively welcome. Like an island of normalcy, we wove through the sea of zombies, unscathed physically. Mentally, well this was the stuff that a life time worth of nightmares are made of.

When we finally managed to emerge into the daylight, it only improved our vision of hell on earth. We were firmly entrenched within the innards of the dead. Heavy gunfire was coming from the area we needed to get to. The good fight was still being waged but the outcome had been decided the moment someone thought to use 600 ton trucks to attack the camp. Doc was garbed in cammies. The dim watted light of an idea came to mind.

"Doc, sorry but you need to take point. And put your pistol away."

"Mike, I don't like being left in the dark. I'll defer to you because you have military training, but it seems to me we could use all the fire power we can muster right now."

"Doc we've got to time this right, for now, you are our prisoner. In another half mile or so we are going to have to play it the other way."

"Makes sense, but I don't like it."

"That's about the way of most of my plans."

I was thankful that the zombies were heading in the same direction as we were. It made getting to our destination worlds easier. Within ten minutes we were just outside the kill zone. The Marines had set up a final perimeter around the base housing and were not planning on taking any extra ammunition into the afterlife. Zombies were piled six or seven feet high in a miasma of parts, some were still moving but most weren't. We were going to have to find another egress. Even if we thought (which I wasn't) about scaling that assemblage of strewn bodies, there was no guarantee we wouldn't meet the same fate of those we had scaled. We would just be another throng of attackers to a machine gun emplacement.

The zombies had been temporarily thwarted by their extra-dead comrades. It would only be a small lull. Already, the wall of decaying flesh jiggled like an over-tall Jenga tower with two of its base beams removed. I was stuck. This was not how I had envisioned our return, held at bay by our own while completely ignored by the zombies.

"Mike?" Doc asked nervously.

"Thinking, Doc."

"Anything yet?"

"You'll be the second to know."

"No plan then?" he asked.

I knew he was nervous and so was I, but he wasn't helping.

'Hey Mr. … Dad,' ran through my head so clearly I turned a complete 360 looking for Tommy.

"Tommy, you shouldn't be out here." I yelled. I was concerned for his safety and I thought he might be doing another Rambo stunt like he had back at Little Turtle with the kids' bow and arrow set.

'I'm not out there, I'm in here.'

"Where's here Tommy? I'm going to need a little more information than that."

'In the apartment, where are you?'

"Tommy, you're right here, I can hear you, how is this happening?" I was more than a little confused. Which in itself isn't all that difficult a thing to do.

'We're family now Mr. Dad.'

"Holy crap! You can talk to me in my head? How long have you known?" I asked in amazement.

'As soon as you adopted me, geez don't you know anything?'

I wanted to ask him how in the hell would I know. This kind of thing usually didn't happen to me or any other person for that matter. Sarcasm aside, I asked him if I actually needed to speak or could I think the thoughts. My next concern was how much into my rancid mind could he read. I sometimes didn't like the things that popped in occasionally for an extended visit. I really didn't need anyone else privy to that. I'd check that out later if there was a time in the future.

I screamed in my head, I didn't really know what constituted a conversational tone when communicating telepathically

'TOMMY!!!' I waited as patiently as I could, nothing happened. I barely believed in the paranormal and now I was trying to use it for my own devices. 'TOMMY!!!' I screamed again. My brain hurt from the pressure I was exerting on it as I attempted to project my thoughts outward. Do you remember when you were a kid and had seen Star Wars for the first time? Then you went home after the movie and tried to move everything in sight with the Force? Please tell me I'm not the only one. This was like that, I had no real clue as to what I was trying, I was just trying.

'TOMM..'

'There you are Mr. Dad, why you shouting?'

'I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET A HOLD OF YOU,' I said excitedly with my thoughts.

'Use your inside brain voice Mr. Dad.'

'SORry IS ThiS BETter?'

'Sort of, sorry it took so long to respond. I was eating a Pop-Tart.'

Now granted this was all new to me, but it seems like you should still be able to mind-speak with someone while you were eating. I don't know, maybe this was as natural to him as normal talking and he just applied the same rules. Don't talk with your mouth full. Wrong time for a tangent thought.

'NEEd a little HELP TommY. JUstIN and I are outside the perimeter.'

'Wow you guys are close. Mrs. T's… Mom's been worried sick.' Tommy's mind-voice got significantly lower in volume. I thought something might be interfering with our signal until I realized he was whispering to me. 'She said if anything happened to Justin or you she was going to go back and smash your Jeep up with a baseball bat.'

I knew it was an idle threat but it still struck deep. 'Woo, she's pissed huh?'

'Not anymore, I just told her that you guys were safe.'

'That's the problem Tommy.' I was getting better with my volume control. 'We can't get back into the barracks without risking getting shot from the Marines. We're outside by the south entrance.'

I could hear Tommy huffing and puffing. How was that possible?

'Okay Mr. Dad, me and Travis are going up to the Marines by where you are at now, and are going to tell them you are out there.'

'Awesome, thanks Tommy, so now what?'

'He says if you really are out there.' His brain voice lowered again. 'I don't think he believes me.' And then came back to normal. 'He says you have about two minutes before the zombies break through again and then all bets are off. What does that mean Dad T?'

'It means we have to climb over this barricade, shit! Sorry.'

'S'okay.'

'Tommy, you tell him that I'm coming over first and then Justin, we are in normal clothes, then we'll be followed by Doc Baker and his family, you got it?'

'All set, he said he'll believe it when he sees it.'

'Thanks kid, save me a Pop-Tart.'

'Ham or meatball?'

Neither sounded appetizing if I ever got hungry again and that didn't look like it was going to happen anytime soon. I peered at the macabre fence in front of me.

"Alright we're set." I said to the group forgetting to realize that they had not been privy to one iota of my previous conversation.

"Set for what, Mike?" Doc asked.

"We're going over." I told him.

"Over the smooshies?" Rachael asked alarmingly, using Porkchop's descriptor.

That all too apt name rang clearly in my mind as I nearly fell over as my foot slid out from under me. I had stepped on a head that had received its fair share of lead. It completely crushed in on itself as I used it for a stepping stone. Only Justin's quick reflexes kept me from going face first in what appeared to be the eviscerated mid-section of a seventy year old man.

Justin grimaced as he pulled me back. "That was close."

I had a smart assed comment lined up, something about 'your mom's meatloaf' but just the thought of opening my mouth to utter words was not a good idea. Jets of saliva were shooting up from the back of my throat, better to coat the walls of my esophagus as I trained to be a super-model.

Gore covered my boots and I wasn't six inches off the ground yet, becoming a zombie was looking better and better. "Come on Talbot." I yelled, mostly to psyche myself up. It didn't work so well. Every time I stepped up a foot, I sank half that distance down into a stew of human parts. At this current rate I would be up to my eyeballs in shit. Wow, now there's a cliché I never thought I'd actually experience.

"Dad."

I was halfway up the pile. "I know, clocks ticking. Tick fucking tock!" I scrambled the remainder of the way up, thankful that my earlier prediction did not come true. I was only about shin level sunk in. Tommy was about a hundred yards away, waving. I returned the gesture. Even from this far away I could see the 'Well I'll be damned' expression on the Marines' faces within the machine gun nest. The gunner waved a more exaggerated 'Hurry your ass up' gesture.

"Let's go." I said turning back to our small party. The only one who had a more difficult time scaling the dead than me was Elizabeth and that was mainly due to the fact that she had carried Rachael up. Self-esteem took a minor hit. I was going to try and not beat myself up over it.

We had covered about half the distance to a zone of relative safety when the zombies began to breach the wall made of their own. Guns blazed on full auto. A car could have been made every minute with all the brass that was hitting the ground. Yes I know there are no brass cars, and that it wouldn't have any tires and seats. I was just trying to give you an idea of how many bullets were being fired.

Doc's kids were almost as thrilled to see Tommy as I was. He hugged them all and ushered them upstairs. I leaned against the wall of a home that I would be leaving soon. Even through all the gunfire I was able to finally catch a breath and relax. It was a momentary respite to be sure but as any military person can attest, you take five whenever and wherever you can.

"I'm going up to see Mom." Justin yelled, he was a foot away and I almost didn't hear him.

"I'll be up in a minute, I just need a moment." I told him.

"You did good, Dad." his throat probably flaying from the volume he had to use to make himself heard.

"You too." I mouthed, and patted him on the shoulder.

I watched as a few speeders halved the distance, but for the most part this was a stalemate. That would change. I'd witnessed that fact first hand. Ammo would run low, guns would jam and misfire, soldiers would fatigue, zombies would break through and eat everything. I'd seen this movie and the sequel, both sucked. I was still a few vials of zombie repellant short, and I was damned well positive that no humans were going to yet try and circumvent this perimeter, not when your ally was a zombie. I couldn't very well ask Doc for the ones I had given him.

The foray had been mostly victorious but I had also come up short. I was still alive to fight another day which counts for something. I tapped on the ammo-feeder's shoulder until he finally looked up. I made the universal sign for 'have a smoke?' You know the two finger 'v' shape up to your mouth and then away. He must have talked to my wife, because he gave me the 'You're fucking nuts' eye roll but then he looked down to his breast pocket where I saw the tell tale bulge of a cigarette box. I reached over, careful to stay out of his line of sight. I was thankful that the lighter was in the pack because I don't think he would have looked up again. I was bummed that they were menthols. I hate menthols. Gotta tell you though, that might have been the best cigarette I ever had in my entire life. I finished it up. Placed the pack back in his pocket and whistled my way up the stairs. I figured at this point and at this pace I had an hour or so left of functioning sanity.

Tracy looked relieved to see me mostly intact, although something in my gaze gave her pause to reconsider just how well I was. True to his word, Tommy handed me a meatball and raspberry Pop-Tart. Climbing the zombie wall again was looking better and better.

Normally this would be about the time Tracy would give me shit about risking my life and the life of her son. But we had saved the Bakers, so that was something on the plus side and she could sense that my soul was pulled as taut as it was going to go before it snapped. What happens at that point? Can one soldier on with a broken soul? What would be the point? I was wrung out, like a dishtowel that had seen better days. The dead were winning. Shit, they had damn near won already.

"Want a beer?" BT asked.

Like a finger to a soap bubble my pessimism popped. Guys sometimes know how to get right to the heart of the matter and skirt around all the bullshit.

"Is it cold?"

"Does it matter?" He threw a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon my way. Damn near dropped it.

Normally I wouldn't touch PBR with zombie-encrusted fingers, but this one beer must have been poured from the kegs of the gods. It was a sweet nectar which quenched more than just the dismalness of this existence. Three large gulps later, I was the proud owner of a mild pleasant buzz. I'm a cheap date, so sue me.

"So what's the plan?" BT asked drinking his own beer. I noticed it was a Molson Canadian.

"Fork it over." I said motioning with my hand.

"What are you talking about?" He replied innocently.

"You get a Molson and I get a PBR? I was the one out there running around like an idiot. I think I deserve something a little better than this." I said tossing the can lightly at him.

"I just figured that was the beer you drank. I mean you seem so 'low rent.'" He laughed, finishing off his own beer in case I came over to get it. "Sorry man that was the last one." He said swishing the bottle around to show me.

"No it's not, BT. You have a whole 6 pack in a cooler behind the couch, did you forget already?" Tommy asked him.

BT gave the meanest look he could muster towards Tommy and then smiled. "Must have slipped my mind."

"Must have." Tommy echoed.

"Yeah must have." I repeated. "Now give me one."

I sat on the couch; this one I was going to savor.

"What now Mike?" Doc asked nervously as he paced the room.

"We wait." I said as I wrapped my lips around the neck of the bottle.

Much fidgeting ensued. I was curious to see who would W.T.F. me first. Tracy edged out the Doc, BT knew better than to waste the effort.

"Mike?" She said questioningly.

"It's the end game." I started. "We're in check. Eliza has us pinned and she has all the powerful pieces left on the board. We can't leave. First off the Marines aren't going to stop shooting until they are out of bullets and once that happens that means that the zombies will be coming."

"What about the pendants the doctor was talking about?" Tracy asked.

"Don't have enough." I said taking another drink off a rapidly draining bottle. Doc looked slightly guilty that his entire family possessed this treasure and mine didn't, especially since I was the one who outfitted them all. "Don't worry Doc, I'm not going to ask for them back."

Tracy looked pissed that I wasn't going to do just that. "So we're just waiting here to die. I just can't accept that!" She yelled.

"Want a beer?" Tommy asked her.

She was going to flip out or calm down. We all watched as she teetered on top of that fence. I was thankful that she toppled to the calmer side, no sense in leaving the planet all in a huff.

"We're not dead yet." As I held up the beer to see if there was anything left in there worth drinking, I commented with "another dead soldier" and threw the empty away in the trash. One of these days I'd think before I spoke.

The zombies advanced very little over the course of the day as the brave Marines threw everything they had at them. I didn't even want to know what kind of damage a Mach-19 (fully automatic grenade launcher) was doing to the enemy. Bugs and birds would feast here for generations. Their kind would sing songs and create poems about 'The Time of Plenty'. Gettysburg was a mild skirmish compared to what raged outside.

I walked to the window when I could tell that the time of Eliza was fast approaching. "She must be getting impatient." I said aloud.

Doc had not sat down since we got here. Now he joined Travis and me as we gazed out the window at a yet unseen enemy. "How can you tell?" he asked.

"Feel the ground vibrating?"

"Yes I just thought it was Henry and Buddha trading off."

Even the twin devastations of Henry's and Buddha's flatulence could not compete with what was coming. By the feel of it at least two, maybe three of the Terexes were heading this way.

"Oh Dad." Justin said lamentedly as he grabbed his head.

Tommy had gone over to rub his back. He was performing the motion but his hand was a good 3 inches away from making contact.

"Shit, have you had your shot today?" I asked him.

"Completely spaced it out." he said miserably.

Doc went to the pack and gave him the shot. Within seconds Justin's demeanor changed.

"Any chance you have one of those for me?" Tommy asked.

Doc was unaware of the bipolar connection that Eliza and Tommy shared and answered in that manner.

"Afraid not Tommy, I don't think that you would like the side effects if this was administered to someone without the infection."

Tommy dejectedly sat back down. If the pain and pressure of Eliza's coming was affecting him, he was doing his best not to show it. Within a couple of minutes two of the formidable Terexes came into view. Whoever was driving them was oblivious to the fact that they were crushing zombies by the score. Mind you, I was in no rush to warn them of the harm they were doing but it was still only akin to scraping shit out of a port-a-pottie with a toothpick.

They were sitting about a half mile away and even at this distance they looked huge.

"What are they doing Dad?" Travis asked.

"She's sucking the spirit out of the Marines." Tommy said in an uncharacteristically sad tone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - JOURNAL ENTRY 16 -

It was an hour after dusk when the heavier of the ammunition dried up. There was the chatter of small arms fire and some pistols but anything resembling a stalwart defense had finally given way. Zombies mindlessly poured over their own dead. I'll give them this, not a one of those Marines ran. They stood their ground and fixed bayonets or pulled out their K-Bar knives. I thought just the spirit of those men as they fought to defend us and themselves could stem the tide. For a few minutes it did. But then one by one they fell to overwhelming odds. A knife can only go so far. I turned away as the sergeant below our window was torn limb from limb as hungry zombies devoured every morsel of him.

The screams of the mortals were quickly drowned out by the feasting of the dead. The zombies began to enter the other two housing quarters. The screams began anew. Our housing quarters stayed relatively quiet. None of the zombies were coming in.

"Well I guess she knows where we live. Had I known we were having company I might have cleaned up." It was said sarcastically and everyone was entirely too wrapped up in their own final thoughts to pay me much attention. The only noise besides me was Nicole's retching as she suffered through another bout of morning sickness. Weird, because it was six at night. I'm still so grateful to all who will listen that I pee standing up. "Travis, can you get me the 30 aught 6 please?" I asked never taking my eyes off the Terexes as they began their approach.

I heard him get up and then heard him pull the charging lever back to make sure it was loaded. Then he handed me the gun.

"Thanks, is the safety off?"

I heard the click. "Is now. Need a spotter?"

"Sure." I told him as I opened the window; frigid air blew in warming my frozen heart.

The trucks came in slowly, I would swear almost sauntering and swaggering in their victory. Unlucky zombies merged with the earth as the giant tires smashed them into various fat content ground meat. When the trucks were within two hundred yards I began to hunt for my prize. I placed the gun up on the windowsill and adjusted the scope to allow any and all ambient light into the aperture.

Travis had pulled out a pair of pocket binoculars and was scouring the cabs of the two trucks. "Got her!" He said triumphantly.

"Are you shitting me?"

"Far truck, she's sitting next to some ass…I mean guy that just broke the cardinal rule."

"Cardinal rule?" I asked aiming my rifle over.

"He just lit a cigarette."

"He's probably nervous sitting that close to the bitch…I mean lady."

"Where in relation to the steering wheel?" Which was the only thing I could see due to the illumination of the dashboard.

"About two or three feet over."

I took my eye up off the scope and looked at him.

"Okay closer to three feet." He said adjusting his guess.

I could faintly pick up the smoker as he inhaled. The cherry of the butt silhouetted him perfectly and if that was my target he was a dead man. The small amount of light did nothing however to reveal the rest of that giant cab. I had one shot. I waited patiently, wishing fervently that I had gone to sniper school when I had the opportunity. I had proved an accurate enough shot to be considered but all those hours of waiting without moving while you lined up your target was a concept I could not grasp as a hot-blooded youth.

"Please be a chain smoker." I repeated over and over as my personal mantra.

Travis and I were fixated on a spot in space roughly the size of a basketball. The room was quiet. No lights were on. Even Henry and Buddha's gas wars had subsided, that more than anything gave me hope.

True to his word, the Marlboro man lit up another cigarette, and the cruel ethereal face of Eliza lit up. The warm colors of the small fire did nothing to sway the evil that she exuded; her white skin shone brilliantly. Sweat poured down my face as I squeezed the trigger ever so gently so that when the gun did go off it was a surprise to me. The smoke and the recoil of the discharge knocked me off target and screened me from the knowledge if I had made an impact on my desired target.

Tommy screamed.

"Holy shit." Travis murmured still looking at the truck. I had turned to see what was wrong with Tommy. "Dad, I can't be completely sure but I think you got her."

My heart soared, only to come crashing down with his next words.

"But I don't think she's dead. She's so fast I think she pulled the smoking guy in front of her. I saw him take the impact but the bullet went through and I think got her. By then though she had pushed his body away and had moved." The Terex veered off at an alarming angle. Any chance of getting another shot off was impossible as I was now viewing the dump portion of the truck.

The air went out of the room. Whatever small hope we had harbored was now extinguished.

"Dammit. Tommy, you alright?" I asked him.

"She's really mad," was all he could manage to say.

"Isn't she always?" BT asked seriously.

"True." I said shrugging my shoulders. "How does one know if a rabid wolf is mad or not?"

"Mike, will you get serious!" Doc fairly shouted.

"I'm deadly serious Doc, it's just that my thoughts tend to trend to the juvenile; doesn't mean I don't care."

"Wonderful." he said sarcastically.

"Alright, whoever wants to get in on the shooting start getting your stuff ready." I told the room.

BT came over. "Plan yet?"

"Still blank slating buddy. But I figure we can still exact some measure of revenge."

"Do tell," he said as he started loading magazines.

"Well I figure that she really wants Tommy…alive." I clarified. "The rest of us are just the wrapping paper on the gift."

"Sounds grand." BT said never looking up from his task.

"You giving me shit?"

"Whaddaya you think, you basically just said she couldn't care less if the rest of us were alive or dead."

"Oh I think she'd prefer us dead."

"Perfect."

"Well, yes and no. I mean I have no desire to die tonight, but on the flip side Eliza won't do anything yet to endanger the kid."

"I get it." BT said now slamming rounds into his magazines. "She's going to let us have our last hurrah so that she can get the kid intact, so what's your thought?"

"I'm thinking we wait for the piece of shit traitors to come in closer. I'd almost feel like I was wasting rounds at this point if I shot zombies."

Travis was standing at the window and looking straight down. "Dad, the zombies are coming in the building."

"I thought you said she wanted us alive?" BT asked filling his spare magazines quicker.

"What am I, the vampire whisperer?" I said, mimicking his faster reloading speed.

Doc looked like he was ready to gather his family and bolt. "Bad thought pattern Doc." I told him without looking up.

"How can you know what I'm thinking? With these pendants we can stroll right out of here!" he shouted.

"That may be true, but she's forming ranks of humans past the perimeter of zombies. I don't think that pendant will work so well then." I replied.

Doc looked out the window to verify if what I was telling him was the truth. Why I'd lie was a mystery to me. Within moments zombies began shuffling outside of our doorway; each time they bumped up against it everyone in the room jolted. There was screaming from various parts of the building but none relatively close.

"She must be pulling on that leash pretty hard." I said to BT referring to the fact that the zombies weren't trying to get in, only keeping us contained.

"Yeah but for how long?" He asked as he eyed the door nervously.

The first Terex had pulled up to within a hundred yards, basically a chip shot for a former Marine with an expert class shooting badge. I peppered the shit out of that cab. Men started spilling out of the doors trying to get away from my hell fire. The ones I didn't shoot immediately upon their escape from the cab usually injured themselves as they fell a good thirty feet onto the frozen ground. Someone, however, had managed to survive in the death cage as the Terex started to back up in a hasty retreat.

Travis had started shooting at the ranks of soldiers as they began to form their encapsulating circle around our perimeter. Within moments BT had joined the turkey shoot along with Jesse and Blake. It was somewhat unfair because they weren't shooting back, Eliza must have expressly forbade it. I just saw it as my unfair advantage. They finally saw the wisdom of pulling back out of effective rifle range but the thousands of zombies still had us locked up tight.

"Any chance they'll give up?" BT asked, drawing away from the window.

Travis and Jesse were actively still seeking targets and occasionally taking a shot. I had also withdrawn from the shooting gallery to sit next to Tracy. Eliza wasn't known for her patience. Something was going to happen and I was pretty much assured it wasn't going to be beneficial to anyone in this room. Tommy and Justin were pale as sheets and were actually together trying to prop themselves up against a common enemy.

After another fifteen minutes or so, Travis and Jesse pulled back when it became entirely to dark to see anything past 50 feet or so. I had dozed off, it might have been an hour or so later when the rumble of an approaching Terex informed me that Round 2 was about to begin. The Terex was close and I could tell from which direction it was coming but the 'new' darkness that had descended on the base was preventing me from seeing it. There was no ambient light coming from anyplace on the base. So when the Terex turned on all her headlights, running lights, flood lights and searchlights I was blinded. I was thankful I hadn't been looking through a night vision scope. The image would have burnt through the back of my head to be displayed on the blank wall behind me. It was long moments before I could see anything other than giant blobs of gray in my field of vision.

BT beat me to the punch, having shielded his vision from the light assault. "Talbot, you seeing this?"

"Not so much." I told him honestly. I was rapidly blinking my eyes in the hopes that I could push force the blinding blue spots away.

"They've got people and soldiers tied all over that truck."

"What? Like a shield?"

"That's exactly it." He said putting his rifle down.

The truck idled menacingly 50 or so yards away. I could shoot a beer out of someone's hand at this distance. I mean I wouldn't, that's a waste of a good beer, but I could. My field of vision was returning. I almost wished it hadn't. Men, women and children were strategically placed all over that truck. An errant shot would easily take out an innocent. Some of the unlucky individuals were tied at odd angles or even upside down, I knew this was intentional; it was to cause us as much angst and trepidation as possible. Some of those poor souls looked like they would welcome a bullet from us.

"Hi Mike!" A familiar voice shouted.

"Durgan." BT said flatly.

"Anyone see him?" I asked raising my rifle up looking for a target.

"You should put that gun down, Mike!" His voice boomed.

I hadn't even thought of it, of course, we were lit up like Christmas trees. "Everyone down!" I shouted pulling Travis down with me.

We could hear Durgan's laugh. "If I'd wanted you dead," he elaborated, "you would be dead. My master would like to have all of you come out."

Without poking my head up I shouted, "We're pretty tired right now. Any chance she could come back next week?"

"What is wrong with you Mike?" Tracy asked.

"Worth a shot." I said

Durgan wasn't expecting that, it took him a bit before he was able to recover.

"Fucking Talbot, that isn't a request, it's a demand. And to prove she's serious... Saunders!" Durgan said.

I had a feeling what 'Saunders' was doing long before I heard someone screaming for mercy.

"What is going on?" BT asked.

I looked down at the floor. "They're killing hostages."

"We gotta go man, we gotta go help them." BT said, shaking.

"BT, they're already dead." Not literally but that was just a matter of degrees in time.

"Then what? We stay here and listen to them slaughter those people?" BT asked.

"No, we're going out, I can't stand it anymore than you BT, I just wish that it hadn't come to this."

"You can't be serious?" Tracy asked, her voice full of concern.

"They'll kill us too." Doc said.

"Doc. stay here, they don't know you're even here, you have the pendants. When Eliza is done they'll move on in search of more fertile grounds to eat."

Doc was stuck in a quandary, the safety of his family versus solidarity.

"Doc", I said, scooting away from the window first and then standing up by him."Listen Doc, you've been a good friend and I've come to love you and your family. You have a real chance to get away from all this. I won't begrudge you that. She knows everyone else in this room and won't stop until she gets us." I didn't say it, how could I tell my family that we were dead men walking.

Doc hugged me. We all made our tearful goodbyes. It sucked being on our side for obvious reasons. Our goodbyes were of the permanent kind. "Doc, just stay low, do not poke your heads up at that window no matter what you hear. Understand?" I asked. He nodded, tears threatening. I was going to miss the Doc he was one of the good guys.

Justin awkwardly picked up his backpack, spilling the contents on the floor. I was going to tell him to leave it, he wasn't going to need it where we were going, but the finality of the thought was entirely too final. Instead I got on the ground with him and started putting the contents back in.

"Talbot, NOW!" Durgan shouted.

The shout had caught me off guard and I had nearly dropped what I had in my hands. Justin stood bolt upright and put the pack on. I didn't want to give Durgan any more reason to come crashing into this apartment. I placed what I had in my hands into the pockets of my jacket and started to head to the door.

"What about the zombies?" Tracy asked.

"Durgan, what about the zombies?" I shouted out through the window.

"Oh, they're harmless for now," he laughed. "Oh and one more thing Mike, no guns."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - JOURNAL ENTRY 17 -

Possibly the ugliest zombie I had seen since the start greeted me at the doorway. He was a little taller than me but didn't possess the healthy vigor that I did. Half of his forehead from the top of his scalp was exposed, and one cheek had been neatly removed. His top lip was gone along with a fair portion of his nose. Slimy gray cartilage had almost eroded away due to predators and the elements. His breath was going to make halitosis a term of the past. His clothes were in tatters, but I guess the thing that struck me the most for some strange reason was that 'Bob' (as I was going to come to call him) only had one shoe. Why this was the point I fixated on was beyond me. It just seemed to be the crux upon which this jacked-up world now spun. Rational thought was quickly taking a back seat. This wasn't a matter of just going to meet my fate. I was taking the whole family, even Henry, and that saddened me the most, for he didn't even know it. Maybe that was for the best.

Bob moved aside as did his brethren as we entered into the hallway. BT shut the door behind him. I hoped the Bakers would make it out, I really did, but my first concerns lay elsewhere as we descended the stairs. Zombies moved away from us like WE were the plague carriers as we entered into the courtyard. Men, of the living variety, began to fill in the vacated spots.

"You pieces of shit!" I yelled trying my best to shield my family from the predatory gazes of the vermin around me. At least a hundred rifles and pistols were pointed at us. I was maybe a bit flattered that they thought us that dangerous but to say 'overkill' would be an understatement. Henry summed everything up perfectly when he walked up into the open middle ground and took a world class shit. I hoped it was on purpose.

Durgan broke through the ranks with the widest shit-eating grin he could display. So intent was he on making a show to the assemblage he narrowly missed stepping in Henry's excrement. As it was I laughed when he stumbled to avoid it. The insanity within him flared as he turned on me.

"You did this!" he screamed.

'Yeah that's it,' I thought to myself. 'I dropped my trousers in front of God and everyone and took a steaming shit. You dumbass.' I wanted to say it out loud but I was afraid he would take it out on Henry so I kept quiet, letting him think it was mine.

He was huge as he purposefully strode over to me. In a previous life I would have paid big bucks to watch a cage match between BT and Durgan. When he sucker punched me in the stomach it wasn't by complete surprise, but there was no way I could have prepared for the devastating blow. I absorbed the impact and went instantly to my knees. I didn't think I would ever be able to catch a breath again as I rolled to my side. I heard a bunch of gun safeties clicking off in what I could only imagine was some of my family members making a move to come to my aid.

"Who's the piece of shit now, Talbot!" He screamed into my face, spittle coating my pained grimace. I still don't know how getting slugged in the stomach made me the piece of shit, and I would have voiced the question if I could only suck enough sweet oxygen back into my system.

"YOU'RE the piece of shit Durgan," BT thundered. "Why don't you try that weak ass shit on me. I'll kick your spindly ass."

'Spindly?' Durgan was a lot of things. Spindly wasn't on that list. I hoped that one day I'd have the opportunity to ask BT about his word choice. I was finally able to take in my first quarter-breath of air since I had gone down, now it only hurt because I was still alive.

Durgan got back in my face. "I lost all respect for you Talbot when you started hanging around with that colored."

"Who, BT?" I croaked. "Is he really? I hadn't noticed."

I was rewarded with a boot to the solar plexus region, which was largely deflected by my arms. They were already wrapped around my tender belly. He was lining up for another go when Eliza's cold voice stopped him in mid kick.

"He is mine to do with as I please," she said savagely.

"Yes my mistress," Durgan said, bowing obsequiously as he stepped back.

"Pussy." I said it just loud enough for the two of us to hear. Devil be damned, I thought he was going to come back and finish what he'd started.

Eliza walked closer. From my vantage point I couldn't see much more than her black boots. "You should have left when I gave you the chance," she said, finally stepping into my line of sight. Her tone carried no good grace, no sadness, no yearning for a different outcome.

"What, and miss all this?" I said, still clutching my mid-section.

Striking cobra fast, she reached down and grabbed my face in her cold hand, lifting me off the earth and into the air as if I weighed no more than a cat. Her fingers dug into my cheeks. Tracy cried out behind me. Now I was afraid, afraid to a depth I hadn't even known existed up to this point in my life. Hope was extinguished, valor and courage were merely sounds made from the mouths of fools. Salvation was unobtainable. She was a chasm from which nothing escaped, a black hole unto herself. She dropped me to the ground. My unsteady legs gave way. I found myself on my knees to the enemy. I had sworn I'd eat a bullet before it got to this point. I had compromised my purpose, my beliefs and everyone dear to me would pay for it. Tommy's sobs were the only thing that could be heard in this circle of hell.

"You shot me Michael," Eliza said. Pointing to a bullet hole in her black leather jacket. "I had thought I might just kill you slowly. Now, however, I have decided you will have the pleasure of living as I slowly kill your entire family." Eliza turned from me, her gaze now on Tommy. "We are going to have such wonderful talks."

Something was poking my already tender stomach. If I was going out it might as well be as comfortably as possible. I reached into my jacket pocket and wrapped my hand around the offending object. It was one of Justin's syringes that had fallen out of his pack. The cap must have come off as I was being so tenderly cared for and now the point was a good three or four layers deep in my epidermis. I gently pulled it out. 'USE IT' shot through my head. The message was from Tommy but he didn't clarify his thought and I couldn't think to ask him as Eliza turned back to me.

"Use what?" she asked me, one might almost think gently.

Then it hit me what I should use, and as God is my witness I wanted to tell her and I would have if not for Tommy.

"Deus has relinquo vos!" he shouted in Latin (God has forsaken you).

She laughed as she replied back to him. "Ut ego have relinquo him." (As I have forsaken him.) "Your God is dead."

My chance was here, I was of no concern to her as I pulled the syringe out and drove it up to the barrel into her calf. Her backhanded blow sent me rolling twenty feet. If my jaw wasn't shattered, I had at least lost some teeth but the pain was too intense to tell exactly what was busted.

"What have you done?" she questioned calmly as she pulled the needle out of her leg.

'I don't know,' I would have told her but the mere thought of moving my jaw stopped that response in its tracks. The zombies that had been generally milling about paying this little drama not a notice, seemed to awaken as if from a dream. I mean as much as a zombie can seem to 'come awake'. I had an inkling of a feeling what was about to happen as zombies began to close in around the circle. I forced myself to stand as waves of pain cascaded down from the top of my head to the bottom of my spinal column.

"You rise when I tell you to," Eliza said evenly. There was no anger in her voice, only a conveyance of truth. She was used to always being obeyed.

I staggered a few steps, moving away from the perimeter guards. All eyes were on me as I drunkenly made my way back to my family. Tracy looked as if she was going to come to my aid. Eliza interjected herself by quickly moving towards me. It is a strange sensation to find yourself hovering in the air, suspended only by your neck. Eliza, was not much bigger than my daughter, so to look down and see those slender arms have enough power to raise me up like a beer for a toast was strange to say the least.

The pain of my nearly shattered jaw warred with the affliction of having my neck compressed to half its diameter.

"Do you find this as fulfilling as I do?" Eliza asked me.

This chick was psycho, first off between my neck and my jaw I couldn't answer her even if I wanted to. And then what the hell kind of question is that? Sure, sure I always wanted to have the life crushed out of me by a character in a horror movie, it was a lifelong dream of mine. Eliza looked over my shoulder as the first of her human guards let out an ear-piercing shriek. Looks like the zombie menu just grew exponentially.

I could see some strain in Eliza's eyes as she attempted to regain control of the zombies. The shot obviously worked. It had interrupted her communication/control over them. I hoped it was a permanent fix, but temporary at this point was alright too. Still though, she could dispose of my entire family in less than a minute, long before her wall of human sympathizers crumbled. Would zombies eat a vampire? Was she in any danger? I hoped so, but at the same time I wondered whether the living dead eating the undead might be taboo.

Several more humans went down before it began to dawn on them that they had better start defending themselves. The circle we were in nearly halved as they pulled in closer to each other and attempted to gain separation from their allies-turned-enemies.

"Clever Michael," Eliza said as she placed me down on legs that I did not think could support a stork. "Too bad it wasn't your idea but my brother's."

"Who?" My voice came out barely above a whisper. Even with that small amount of movement my jaw felt as if it had come unhinged. The croaking sound that came out could never be construed as a word, but Eliza understood my expression of amazement.

Her pitiless laugh grated through my nerves. "He didn't tell you? You are just the latest failed attempt in a long line of pathetic humans who have tried to stop me. I have killed each and every one of them, some in more creative ways than others perhaps. But in the end and in his own way, Tomas has brought all of those people to their untimely oblivion."

"Not true." I coughed out, clutching my throat and shaking my head. I looked over towards Tommy, whose head was bowed in guilt or angst. It was tough to tell from this distance.

"Ask him yourself."

Did that mean she was going to let me live, for now?

She turned from me. I felt like a mouse and the hawk had moved her gaze to other prey. The relief was that intense.

"This is my time, Tomas, all of mankind will bow before me." She thundered without raising her voice. Gunfire that had moments earlier seemed muted, raised to full volume like a crappy neighbor's stereo at midnight on a Tuesday. The cordon that protected us was rapidly breaking down. Death by zombie all of a sudden seemed an attractive proposition, although in retrospect, neither being eaten nor bled dry has much appeal.

The hairs on the back of my neck and arms began to rise as waves of power sizzled off of Eliza. Some zombies stopped in mid-chew, while others happily feasted on. She was fighting through the vaccination. Should I take a chance and try to deliver some form of death to her in this semi-incapacitated state? If I did and I succeeded that meant the zombie leash would come completely off. If I tried and failed, I might actually get to experience the sensation of being skinned alive. I imagine that she would start from my feet up thereby ensuring I stayed alive the longest while this torture was administered.

Third choice it was then, escape. That in itself was going to be a risky proposition. Eliza's guards had been halved by the zombies, but half of a shit load still left a crap load and I didn't think they'd just let us strut on out. I more or less made a beeline for my family who was huddled on a curb at the edge of the parking lot.

I looked to Tommy. "Is it true?" His silence spoke volumes. "We'll make time to talk about this later." Maybe.

"I've got a plan, Talbot." BT said softly, although why he was whispering was a mystery considering WWIII was happening all around us.

"Is it better than mine usually are?"

"Me going up to Eliza and asking her nicely if we could leave would be better than most of yours." BT retorted. He then glanced down quickly; he was standing on a storm drain.

"Are you kidding me?" I stage whispered.

"Tommy made sure that we would be in this general vicinity." Tracy said. She had heard the entire conversation between Eliza and myself and wanted to make sure that I remembered where my allegiances were.

"Can you get that thing up?" I asked BT.

"My leg is busted, not my arms. Close in around me."

We gathered into a tight group, which wasn't difficult considering we were almost in a Rugby scrum as it was.

No bad guys noticed, they were too busy elsewhere, as BT clanged the cover off to the side.

"In, in, in." BT said, grabbing Travis and dropping him down the hole.

Next, Justin handed Henry down to Travis, then helped his grandmother and Nicole down. He himself then followed, with Tommy clambering down after him.

"Tracy, go." I said as I saw her indecision.

"You're not going to do anything foolish are you?"

"Me?" I said innocently shaking my head. "Get in. You too, BT."

"Talbot?" BT asked skeptically.

"It's cool, get in, we're running out of time." The battle would end sooner rather than later, and whichever side won, the Talbots & Co. would still lose. I had no intention of doing anything. This was one situation I wanted to be as far removed from as possible. I waited impatiently as BT wriggled his way through the narrow opening. I nearly stepped on his head in my haste to leave this place. I was halfway in the hole when Eliza's eyes locked onto mine. The pull of her was hypnotic. I wanted to be with her, to die miserably by her hand. My left foot came up a rung.

Distantly below me I heard BT exclaim, "What the hell are you doing Tommy, there's not enough room on this ladder for the both of us."

And then a moment later I felt Tommy's hand on my calf, warmth spreading from his touch. Eliza's hold was shattered. I flipped her the bird, and ducked out of sight. Her screech of rage could have broken glass.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - JOURNAL ENTRY 18 -

We were in the sewers for fifteen minutes before the sound of gunfire finally and mercifully stopped. But that wasn't technically a good thing. Either Eliza had wrested control over the zombies and now her minions were in hot pursuit, or the zombies had won out and they were in cold blooded pursuit.

"Wish I had my scooter," BT complained.

"Oh, you like it now," I puffed behind him. We had been keeping a pretty steady pace and it was wearing us all down.

"Not now, Talbot," BT said through clenched teeth. I could tell he was in immense pain and still I struggled to keep up with him.

"This reminds me of Bilbo."

"I KNOW you didn't just call me a dildo." BT said, pausing to look back over his shoulder.

"Do I look insane? Don't answer that. I meant Bilbo Baggins when he was under that Orc mountain to get that one ring. He thought he was going to be lost forever in those caverns."

"Comforting thought, Talbot. Any chance you could keep it to yourself?" my wife said from further up.

Justin's lighter was barely a flicker against the pressing darkness but when it flittered out the darkness became complete. I could almost imagine an army of orcs creeping up behind us. Was that worse than the alternative?

"Sorry." Justin said. "Burning the hell out of my fingers." We could hear him sucking on his burnt digits in an attempt to take the heat away. I kept thinking about where his fingers had been before he put them in his mouth. Old habits die hard.

"You better be careful with that lighter," BT said. Justin looked back questioningly. "That dog of yours has some super heated ass air and I've got a feeling its combustible."

"That's pretty funny BT, but all the same Justin you should heed his words. Alright let's take five. Everyone get as comfortable as you can, let's just catch our breaths." Superfluous words to say the least. Panting made conversation impossible. I walked back ten or so paces from the pack to get away from the extraneous noise and truly try to hear if anything besides sewer rats were behind us, although that kind of scared the shit out of me too.

I took deep breaths, waiting long pauses in between exhales, to have as little ambient noise around me as possible. What happened next was not something any of us were expecting. The ground began to vibrate. First it was as soft as a cat jumping off a chair and then it began to shake as violently as an elephant taking a spin on a trampoline.

"Talbot?" BT yelled out questioningly.

"Sounds like Eliza." I replied.

"What is she doing?" Carol asked. The break neck pace was having the most effect on her, she had been game so far but she wouldn't be able to do this much longer. Even the fear in her voice was muted.

"Sounds like she's leaving." Travis said with hope.

"It does at that." I added, not so hopefully.

"Mike." Carol started her question. "Why did the zombies attack those men? Shouldn't the pendants have prevented that?"

"Normally yeah, but I think it's clear now whose blood is in those vials, and when the shot interrupted her control, the pendants became decorative jewelry."

Carol absently fingered the pendant she wore, wondering if wearing the blood of one's enemy around her neck was even worth it now.

We rested a minute or two more before the slow, steady stench of zombies caught up to me. I looked back in the direction we had come. I couldn't see anything, but one doesn't need the sense of sight to know when zombies are getting too close. "Time to go," I said, catching back up to the group.

"Mike, we just sat down and my mother is exhausted," Tracy said irritably.

I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. The smell passed me on by and traveled up to the rest of the suddenly not-so-weary travelers.

"Are they under the control of Eliza?" Nicole asked.

"Does it matter?" Justin replied.

BT helped Carol up. "I'll help her BT, you get in the middle." Justin's lighter lit back up just in time for me to see the questioning glance on BT's face. "I don't trust you." I told him.

"What are you talking about, man?" BT asked.

"Oh I can see you doing some stupid heroic thing because you can't keep up and you're going to sacrifice yourself for the good of the many or some such crap."

"What? Do you think you have the market cornered on stupid heroic crap? I can pull off my own stupid moves you know."

"Can both of you please get your big inflated diva egos in gear?" Tracy said.

"She called you a diva." I said pointing to BT.

"Now I know why Paul and Alex went their own way." BT mumbled. "Who knew? I should have joined them." His muttered comments kept going long after we started anew.

Our pace had taken a significant downturn. The five minutes of rest had done us more harm than good. Lactic acid had enough time to build up in the dormant muscles. Carol and BT were both struggling. Carol, I could assist. Helping BT with anything short of a tow truck wasn't going to work.

Something was getting close. There was the occasional clatter of a bottle being kicked or the sound of a foot splashing into a puddle. There were no arcs of light from flashlights cutting through the tunnel. That was of small solace though. A bullet might be a kinder way to go. It was damn near impossible to tell how far we had come underground. Justin had kept us on a fairly straight course, just as I had told him to, but the disorienting combination of the darkness and the pressing walls made gauging distance difficult. Our direction had mostly been a southeastern route away from Lake Michigan. I figured we had to be nearing the outer edges of Camp Custer and that could possibly mean a dead end. I couldn't imagine any Commander worth his weight in salt allowing an open passage right under his feet. There would be bars across the tunnel soon and once we got to them it would be too late; we would have to backtrack to an alternate exit while hopefully avoiding our pursuers. With nothing more than our bare hands against an enemy that loved to bite, I was looking for an egress now.

"Justin, next junction we go up." I yelled.

"We out of the base?" He asked.

"Doubt it seriously, but close. We need a truck, guns, rest, food, shelter and maybe four or five other things."

"Got it."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - JOURNAL ENTRY 19 -

Within five minutes we were on terra firma as opposed to under it. There would eventually be eternity for that, just not yet. Camp Custer was in ruins. It looked like a set from a 1960's Godzilla movie. Buildings were smashed to rubble, fires blazed, cars and trucks were strewn about. You know the idiom: History always repeats itself. Camp Custer fell just like the legendary General. Who was the idiot that named this place? His first choice was probably Camp Alamo or Camp Pearl Harbor, maybe even Camp Waterloo. I would have gone with a name that didn't ultimately spell doom and destruction, but that's just me.

Sadness threatened to completely overwhelm our beleaguered band of travelers. We were all tired. Add in a heavy dose of depression, stir in a dash of death and you get a recipe that nobody wants to choke down. I had to keep telling myself this wasn't home, this had been merely a brief respite, a healing way station until we were able to get back on our feet both physically and mentally. Another two months or even a year or so here would have been perfection but Tommy's sister had other ideas. That was another wrinkle I would have to deal with eventually; 'all good things to those who wait,' I thought sarcastically.

We hadn't moved very far at all from the manhole cover we had come up from when the stench of death wafted up; it wasn't too difficult to figure out what was down there. For the first time I was thankful it was zombies and not humans. Unless we had moved on to Zombies Version 3.0 they would not possess the motor skills necessary to climb the ladder, but it still made my skin crawl that they were that close. Apparently I wasn't the only one that shared that sentiment, as we all collectively and subconsciously moved farther away from our escape hole.

"Alright, we've got to find some wheels," I said, more to break the painful silence that had settled on us all than to relate any new information on our plan.

"Mike." Carol said as she sat down on some cinder blocks that had once held up a wall on what used to be a nail salon. "I need to rest."

I looked hard at her, not out of anger but only for concentration purposes. I was adverse to splitting up.

"I'll stay with her," BT said. It was part altruism and part necessity for BT. He wasn't in much better shape than Carol was. Pain exuded from every motion as he plopped down on his own makeshift resting spot.

This was sucking more and more. Those two couldn't outrun a crawling zombie and I was about to leave them to their own devices without any protection whatsoever. Their decisions were made. The best thing I could do for them was hurry up. Their concealment in this destroyed stretch of roadway was not by the book battle tactics but it would have to do.

"Go man, go." BT said. "I'll keep an eye on her," as he bowed his head nearly into his lap.

It was looking more like Carol was the one that was going to be keeping an eye on him.

The rest of us moved off, keeping close to the rubble line. Tommy never spoke and barely took his eyes from the road six inches in front of his feet. I was feeling bad for the kid but he had a lot of explaining to do even if Eliza had only spoken 25% of the truth. My gut told me that nothing she said was a lie. She was the essence of pure evil and nothing cuts deeper than unvarnished truth.

The farther we moved away from Carol and BT, the more nervous I became. This was looking more and more like a fruitless effort. What wasn't burning outright had fallen victim to the Terexes' crushing power.

"Mike?" Tracy asked with concern.

"I know, I know." I wiped my forehead free from perspiration that should have not been able to form in this hostilely cold weather. "We have got to find a way off this base, Hon. There is no other option. Zombies will sniff us out eventually. Walking isn't even an option and not because of BT and your mom either, we're all wiped out."

Travis had gone up to the next corner scouting the way ahead. When he signaled I couldn't tell if it was good or bad. It ended up being a mixture of the two. He had found transportation. It just so happened to be surrounded by a cluster of zombies that were fighting over the remaining scraps of an unlucky soul who had also been looking for a way off the base and had been fractions of a second on the "too late" side. His crappy fortune was to our benefit.

"I've got an idea, Dad," Travis said as he pulled back from his vantage point.

He never gave me the opportunity to dispute the validity of his plan as he quickly crossed the street unseen and then shouted to the zombies, "Here I am!"

I wanted to throttle him. That really wasn't much of a plan. If there were speeders in the mix he didn't have much of a head start on them. Too late now, the play was in motion. I turned, gesturing to everyone to get down. Travis made sure that the zombies had taken an unhealthy interest in him and then he bolted down the trash-scattered roadway. I was going to kick his ass when I got back to him. We hadn't even figured out a rendezvous point and I had to hope that he was smart enough not to bring them back to our original starting point where Carol and BT were.

"Damn him," I muttered as two speeders raced by, followed by four ragged deaders and one crawler that looked as if she had fallen victim to the Terex. From about midway down what remained of her ass was flattened to pulp. The pressure from the tire grounding her into the pavement had caused one eye to completely rupture out and it was now dragging on the path alongside her, leaving a trail of slime much like a slug would. That grossed me out more than the shattered bone fragments that protruded at odd angles through her tattered blue jeans.

Travis and the speeders were long gone. The deaders were far enough away that even if they noticed us we still had plenty of an escape cushion. That left the crawler. She turned her head in our direction as we stood back up and headed to the humvee. Her voided socket stared at us as intensely as her good eye. For someone with so many damaged parts she made short work of turning back around and pulling herself towards us. Tracy and Nicole were nearly riveted in place. I'm not sure Tommy even noticed her, so intent was he on some flattened gum on the sidewalk. As Justin and I headed for the hummer, the movement drew the zombie's attention away from the women, not that they were in any imminent danger anyway.

The small bits of flesh that clung to the remains of the unlucky individual inside the hummer made any sort of identification impossible. The skeletal size suggested a small woman or a kid. I opted for small woman. Neither was a great choice, one just happened to be less crappy than the other.

"I'm so sorry," I said as I dragged the exceptionally light carcass out of the front seat. I laid her down as gently as time would allow, did a short 'Our Father.' Then I sat down in a medley of hair, blood, bone bits, possibly some jewelry and whatever other disgusting remnants come off someone that has just been eaten.

"You alright Dad?" Justin asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

My frozen features displayed pure disgust. This above everything else was going to cause me many sleepless nights going forward. Blood and gore were seeping through my clothes. If Travis weren't running for his life I might have just completely seized up. I was making inroads into my germaphobe psychoses but I hadn't gone this far.

"Help me" may or may not have weakly made it out of my lips. Luckily, it was masked by Tracy, Nicole and Tommy's entry into the rear.

"Mike, is something wrong with this truck? Won't it start?" Tracy asked leaning forward through the gap in the front bucket seats.

"Uh sorry, waiting for the glow plugs to heat," I told her as I clicked the ignition.

Tracy could see the human goulash dripping from my seat and the perspiration dripping from my head, but with her baby outside she would not suffer my neuroses.

"Let's go Talbot, next Wal-Mart we see I'll get you some Clorox wipes and a new set of jeans, but right now you have to get our son."

"Yup." It was all I could muster without taking the chance of adding my own vomit to the mix.

"You know your son is out there right?" Tracy added.

I thought I might be stuttering at this point but I'm pretty sure it was only in my head.

"And my mom and our friend BT. They are all out there waiting for us Mike," she threw in for good measure.

"Um...the... what now?" I may have muttered. Higher functioning had completely seized up. I was being steeped in human goo and I couldn't move. Ever since this whole Armageddon thing started, I had shot hundreds of zombies, K-Barred a few humans and had been covered in gore. None of it had affected me like this. There was just something about having my genitalia simmering in the blood of another human being that was shutting me down.

"Justin, we've got to get him out of the seat. You're going to have to drive," Tracy said as she moved to the door.

Justin blanched. You may or may not recall, but in my first journal I spoke of how Justin had not deemed driving a priority in his life and had thus far found ways to escape that mundane task. "I'd…I'd rather not," he said, looking down at the cauldron of caustic bile I was in.

"Talbot!" Tracy screamed smacking me upside the head. "Get over it!"

Like shoving a sticky transmission into gear, I moved. It might have been the yelling but more than likely it was the physical force she had put behind that blow. Three older brothers and the Marine Corps had trained me to move into action by physical contact, and not of the tender variety.

In hindsight, my immobility may have saved my son's life. His original plan, unbeknownst to any of us, was to lead the zombies away and then circle back to the original place where the hummer sat. I was going to try and track him down which would have proved disastrous when he came around only to discover that his ride was gone. The speeders hadn't gained any ground on him, but they had the advantage of being tireless. When Travis hopped into the back he was bathed in sweat much like I was, and was dragging in huge gasps of breath.

The hummer jerked forward as I released the hand brake. Speeders smacked into the hood as I moved away.

Tracy turned the ire I had stirred towards her son. "What the hell were you thinking? What kind of plan was that?"

"I got the idea from Brendon," Travis said with a ghost of a smile on his face.

"I thought I recognized that," Justin said, smiling as well.

"This is your fault Talbot!" Tracy said swiveling her beacon of ire back my way.

I may or may not have released a wan smile. I was entirely too busy trying not to vomit, hit zombies or freeze up again. My internal operating system was running at 98% and was threatening to have a fatal error.

Within a minute or so we came upon BT and Carol who were on full alert but seemed no worse for wear as we pulled up. In fact, Carol actually had some color to her and BT looked like he was finally managing the extreme pain he was in.

"Couldn't get anything bigger?" BT joked as he hopped over.

"You might want to hurry," Tommy said from the back seat, his first words in over an hour.

BT's expression changed quickly and dramatically when he heard Tommy's words and saw the lack of expression and color on my face. It doesn't take a zombie apocalypse to realize when something is wrong, but it sure helps. Travis, Tommy and Henry moved into the plastic shell covered trunk to make room as BT and Carol got in. The relief in Tracy's face as she smacked me upside the head again was clearly evident.

"What's that all about?" Carol asked Tracy.

"It's the only way I can get him moving," she answered.

Carol had a look of consternation on her face but did not bother to ask for a clearer explanation.

"Kind of like a slap stick," BT exclaimed, alluding to a popular brand of transmissions during the muscle car years of the early 1970's.

"Hilarious," I mumbled. But I had to admit it was effective.

We were all caught up in our own silent reflections as we left the base behind. Except for Travis and Henry who slept, deeply I hoped.

Tracy thought about the safety of our family and how close to the edge of peril we were again. The base had been a chance to recharge the batteries, a place where normalcy had reinstituted itself. It wasn't home, but maybe it could have been.

Justin was thinking about what was going to happen to him when his two month supply of shots ran out; would he once again fall under the spell of Eliza? That was something he could not go through again.

Carol regretted leaving her life-long home. She had spent a lot of sweat and tears working that land and it seemed only right that she should have shed her life's blood there as well.

Tommy was fearful of what this revelation meant to his new family. Would they abandon him? He didn't really think they would, but that thought above all others scared him.

Nicole still grieved heavily for Brendon and could not fathom raising a child in this monstrosity of a world.

BT hoped that he would have the strength when the time came to defend his friends. He could not shake the feeling that he was somehow responsible for Jen's and Brendon's deaths. The emotional pains of those two losses far outweighed his broken leg.

My thoughts, well they were something along the lines of…disgusting, repulsive, filled with loathing, nauseating, skuzzy. Do you want me to keep going on? Remember I'm a germaphobe so I have an extended thesaurus when it comes to words revolving around 'repugnant'.

I had never before felt so alone, as if on an island than I did that night. The shielded headlights barely pierced the obsidian of the night as we drove eastward. No weapons, no food, no hope, no sani-wipes. It seemed like a good time to stop and make a permanent snow angel. I've learned a lot in these 'end of days' times. Mostly, that when it gets to the darkest point there's always something that manages to drag you just a little farther into the gloom.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - JOURNAL ENTRY 20 -

I lost myself in the humming of the tires on the roadway. My mind drifted inwards to Tommy and ultimately to Eliza. I had been so enamored with the boy I didn't think to look any deeper than what I saw on the surface. I mean, I knew that he was operating on a different plane than the rest of us mere mortals, but I was figuring that he was some sort of divine intervention into a world that was rapidly spiraling down into oblivion.

The question now was whether he was placed here for the Talbots or was the Talbot family merely a means to an end for him. I couldn't imagine the boy having ulterior motives, especially malevolent ones, but that was before I realized who his sister was. And speaking of Eliza, how did that happen? She was a vampire, a beast who until very recently I didn't think existed in anything other than the over imaginative minds of movie makers. But Tommy was no vampire, at least by any traditional standard, although I'd yet to see a master copy of "Mythical Monster Properties and Powers."

I would have looked in the rearview mirror if the hummer possessed one if only to prove what I already knew. Tommy was eyeing the back of my head. What earlier I would have thought of as comforting was now disconcerting. Now there was no doubt in my mind who Eliza was really after. Would Tommy resist if I made him get out of the hummer? Could I? True hell had begun for the Talbots the moment Tommy came off that roof. Sure, it wasn't peaches and cream beforehand, but wandering mindless ravenous zombies were still worlds better than diligent, relentless, controlled ones. I never thought to question why such a cataclysmic evil presence was in such close proximity to a shining beacon of righteousness. Now that gap in thought could potentially be our undoing.

I could feel Tommy's presence lurking around the psychic connection we shared. He was antsy to 'talk.' I opened up the connection although I'm fairly certain Tommy could come waltzing in no matter what I did to prevent him.

'Hi Mr. Dad. Are you mad?'

'Tommy, I'm going to hold off making any rash comment or decision while you completely explain what is going on,' I said tight-lipped, at least as tight-lipped as one can while they're thinking the words instead of saying them. I could tell my tone was conveyed by the way Tommy's mood changed. Now don't go getting all judgmental on me. I hadn't yet said anything cross to Tommy. You have to remember that Tommy's mere presence was endangering my entire family. What an egotist I was to believe that I was anything other than a plaything for Eliza. She cared less for me than the dirt she carried under her fingernails.

'She's my sister, Mr. T.'

The reversal back to 'Mr. T' and not 'Dad' did not go unnoticed by me. We might be 'family' but Eliza and Tommy were true family. Tommy related the story of his cruel upbringing in 1500's Germany and how his sister 'Lizzie' ('how fucking cute' I thought) was the only person that stood up for him. She would chase away the town boys that would throw rocks at the 'possessed boy.' She would step in front of her father's heavy hand whenever he felt the need to take out his own insecurities on his 'ruined' son.

I got the picture, Lizzie was the world upon which he revolved. I could feel the pain Tomas had suffered as his sister was dragged away and sold into slavery. Tommy was trying to accentuate his story by letting me in on his own emotional distress. It was a low but effective strategy. The linked empathy had me nearly on the verge of tears. I was thankful the interior of the hummer was not lit very well by the dash lights.

'When I finally caught up to her, the devil had already marked her soul.'

That would imply that she still had one. I was fairly certain that ship had sailed and much like the Titanic had met a watery grave.

'I can fix her though, Mr. T. I know I can.'

'How long have you been trying Tommy? How many others' lives, hopes and dreams have you ruined in an attempt to fix what may be broken beyond repair?' I answered him.

His refusal to reply to my barb, infuriated me. 'Now you dare to take my family down that same path!' I was screaming in my head, my fingers clenched the steering wheel, knuckles turning white under the strain.

Tommy, who had been leaning slightly forward with his head in his hands, fell back against the seat as if he was physically pushed. 'I never meant it to be like this Mr. T,' his words soaked in tears.

I honestly didn't care at this point whether he meant it or not, my BS meter was pegged in the red. Everything he said from this point forward was going to be tainted. 'Are you a vampire?' I asked him.

He mentally shook his head in the negative.

'How then?' I asked as in 'How are you still alive after 500 plus years?'

'After she was bitten, she bit me but she didn't drink. Because she remembered me and she loved me and she couldn't. But something still happened because here I am. I have followed her ever since.'

'So what's happened differently? Why is she now following YOU?' I asked, emphasizing the 'you'.

'She's dying, Mr. T.'

'What's the down side?' The words shot across my brain before I had even a moment to reflect on the pain they would administer.

Tommy began to openly weep. Tracy wrapped her arm around him. "It's okay, we're safe now," she said, words she had no faith in.

We could be, I thought to myself as I closed the door to mine and Tommy's dialog.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - JOURNAL ENTRY 21 -

The hummer's gas gauge was rapidly approaching 'E', and there were no all night service stations open, at least not in this part of Pennsylvania. Sometimes it sucked being human. We needed food but even more importantly we needed rest, especially me. Most everyone in the hummer at some point had dozed on and off during our escape except for me. Scratch that, I caught a few Road Z's too. Damn near scared the crap out of myself when I jerked awake; the flood of adrenaline sending needle daggers through my arms and the back of my head.

The boost had juiced me for another half hour or so but I was tapped physically and mentally. The main question now became where do we stop? We couldn't defend ourselves against rabid woodchucks right now. Luck that had seemingly been in inexhaustible supply was now looking as barren as the gas tank.

"Talbot, we're still moving?" Tracy asked rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

I got a little piqued. I think it had more to do with the sleep deprivation. But yeah I was still effen driving. Nobody else wanted to sit in the meat pie I found myself adhered to. I was able to pull most of the discontent out of my reply. "Not for much longer though."

"Where are we?" She continued.

(Thought reply – bad) 'Well, maybe if you had stayed awake and kept me company you'd know!' (Actual reply – good) "Somewhere just inside Pennsylvania, a place called Clarion."

"It's starting to get light out."

(Thought reply – bad) 'Yeah, amazing what happens when you drive for 8 hours straight.' (Actual reply – good) Didn't have one, decided to keep my mouth shut.

"You need to rest," she said matter-of-factly.

"You think?" Here came my dumb-ass, dripping with sarcasm reply. Time to back-peddle before she could call me on it. "Sorry, I'm wiped."

She gave me the 'You're lucky you saved our lives last night or you'd be suffering my wrath' look.

BT sat bolt upright and yelled, "what the hell is that!?"

I nearly drove the hummer off the roadway. "What!! What do you see?" I yelled in reply.

Everyone was now wide-awake looking out the windows trying to see what new and unusual death deliverer was heading our way.

"Oh my God!" Travis yelled. "Henry crapped back here. Dad, you need to pull over quick, I can't breathe!"

The entire hummer took on the smell of Henry's offal. What could he have possibly eaten that could come out on the other end that bad? A moldy rat-meat burrito perhaps, or maybe a liverwurst stuffed crepe. Who knows, but it was the first time since I got in this hummer that I had completely forgotten about what I was sitting in. I somehow managed to make anti-lock brakes skid down I-80. I set records for the distance it took to stop that truck. Doors nearly came unhinged as everyone struggled to make a mass exodus at the same time. It didn't work so well, something about quantum physics and how two different masses of matter (meaning passengers) cannot occupy the same space at the same time (meaning the exits).

Gore clung to the seat and sides of my legs and thighs. I didn't even notice as I kept exhaling quickly out of my nose in the hopes I could push out the molecules of shit adhered to the lining in my nostrils. Henry sauntered out a minute or so later, most likely reveling in his delivery.

"Talbot, where did you get the dog? The city dump?" BT asked, pinching his nostrils shut in the hopes that he would not breathe in any more tainted air. "I hope you got half off, because he's defective!"

Henry had no clue that he was the center of all this attention. He pissed on the tire, a look of contentment across his wide maw. Something that strongly resembled a liver plopped to the ground from the back of my shirt. The seriousness of our predicament seemed to be heralded with that one small transaction. It was morning, of that I was grateful. I looked around to check out our surroundings. Rural pretty much summed it up. There was a farmhouse within view, although from this distance it was impossible to tell if it was occupied. No smoke was coming from the chimney, if that meant anything or not.

Travis had opened up the trunk and found an old rag in the back. He was treating the offending pile as if it were nuclear waste, which seemed about right. He heaved the rag and its contents as far as was possible and was about to shut the trunk when Nicole stopped him.

"Yeah, probably should let it air out." He said as he grabbed a handful of snow and washed his hands.

After five minutes the general consensus seemed to be that the majority of the odor should have dissipated.

Justin took it upon himself to check this hypothesis, his partially wrinkled nose let us know that while not exactly pleasant it should be safe enough for human inhalation.

"What do you think, Talbot?" Tracy asked, following my line of sight.

"I think we go up there and check their hospitality. Been on empty for the last ten miles, I can't imagine we've got another ten miles left in her," I said as I thumped the hood. "And who knows what the hell is up the road. I'd rather we have a little bit of cushion gas-wise if we need to run." I started to get back into the car.

"I'd rather walk, if it's all the same to you," Tracy said.

Justin, Nicole, Travis and Tommy all chimed in about how they would like to stretch their legs or get some air or enjoy the weather.

"Awesome," I said as I squished back down into my mélange a la gore.

BT got into the front seat, Carol into the rear. Henry looked from me to the hummer and over to the four who opted to walk. Back and forth he swung trying to figure out what was going on here. Whatever it was, he wanted a window seat as he hopped up into the hummer. I drove slowly, staying next to Tracy and the kids. I was not going to leave them alone and I was still hesitant about approaching the farmhouse, especially since we were unarmed.

The snow on the roadway had melted to a thin skin of ice. That was to change however when we reached the edge of the farmhouse driveway. The small band of travelers moved behind the hummer as I easily cut a swath through the 10-inch thick crusty snow. No champagne powder here, I was east of the Mississippi. Did that matter? Really didn't see myself strapping on a set of skis anytime soon. Another quiver to the heart of loved things lost, along with Monday night football, the Red Sox and my beleaguered Bruins. A random thought permeated my thinking as I crunched up noisily into the front yard. If I came across Kevin Youkilis as a zombie would I be able to kill him? That question got infinitely harder to answer as I pondered whether he would have his uniform on.

I would have to dwell on that later, as I neared the front door and still could not see any signs of life or death. The snow around the house was pristine, marred only by the occasional deer or rabbit track. As long as they weren't rabid we were in pretty good shape.

Tracy came up to my window as I rolled to a stop. "Don't get in if you don't have to but stay near here," I told her as I stepped out from the hummer.

She looked down at my pants and at the seat, obviously hoping that there wouldn't be any sort of problems where we would need to make a fast get away. "Is that a tooth?" She asked.

"Don't," I admonished her. "I don't want to know."

"Do you think you're the best representative to go up there?" Carol asked from the back seat.

I stooped down so that I could make eye contact with her. "Carol, you should know better by now. In the best of times I should never be the front man, this is just by default."

She gave me a grim smile. These weren't times for jokes and she had yet to warm up to my 'what, me worry?' attitude, even if it was all a farce. I now worried every minute of every day.

"Dad, you want us to come with you?" Justin asked, as he gestured to Travis and himself.

Normally there is safety in numbers, but if anyone was here they were watching us right now and I didn't want to give them any extra reason to be spooked. This was rural Pennsylvania and we were at a farmhouse. Odds were exceedingly high that at the minimum they possessed a shotgun. If the owner was a little skittish, which he had every right to be, I didn't want my boys anywhere near the door. What would be the point? So we could all be lead catchers?

"No, stay with your mom. Both of you," I clarified as Travis came up beside me.

"We mean no harm!" I yelled, placing my hands in the air. I tried to put myself in the house occupant's point of view. Would I believe me? I answered honestly, no. Even bad guys would start out by saying something along those lines. Here I was covered in what they would think was my last victim's blood. No they wouldn't trust me, the stakes were too high. This wasn't getting ripped off on a Craigslist deal. This was the whole bag of marbles, so to speak.

The house was an old style Victorian, smack dab between dilapidated and brand spanking new. If it was abandoned it hadn't been for long. It looked to be the domicile of aging occupants, ones that could not keep up with the maintenance such a home demanded. The steps creaked eerily as I ascended the stairs. I kept my hands in the air. I got the distinct impression I was being watched and then it hit me like a bolt, 'duh' there were at least eight sets of eyes on me from behind and maybe Henry's too. So much for the spook radar.

I knocked loudly on the door. "Please, we mean no harm. We just need a place to stay for a day or two." I waited for a response; none was forth coming, I did notice though when I knocked that I did not get that hollow echo that accompanies an empty house. A spark of hope ignited in my gut. We might have the chance to get some supplies and not make idle chit chat with residents who were no longer in attendance. You may have read my other two journals. Nowhere in them does it say I'm a people person.

I knocked again and gave the standard time for a response. I checked the doorknob. It was locked. "Who the hell locks their door in the country?" I asked the wind.

"What?" Tracy asked. "Are you talking to someone? Is there someone in there?"

"Just talking to myself," I told her over my shoulder.

"Well that doesn't count, you always have a crowd inside that head of yours," she said with a slight grin.

"Is this really the time for that?" Carol asked her daughter with concern. This non-confrontation I was not having on the porch was starting to rattle her a bit.

"This really is their basic form of communication," BT told Carol.

"You're in on this too?" She asked BT.

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Nice verbal detour, but time to get back to the task at hand. "Please just let me know if you're in there. If you want us to go, we will. But if I don't get a response I am going to kick this door in!" I yelled. I wasn't too particularly scared of the 'Make My Day' law. That was a thing of the past. The owners of this house could have just as easily shot me on the porch and wouldn't even have to worry about cleaning up the blood trails as they dragged me inside to make it look like I had gained entry.

No one responded. I thought I might have heard a distant shuffle but I chalked it up to an overactive imagination. I got into my best Chuck Norris impersonation stance and lashed out heavily at the door with the heel of my foot. The heavy stout wooden door cracked a bit but did not give. I rebounded off, the reverberation from the contact causing increasing concentric rings of pain within my body as it radiated away from my foot. I staggered and nearly fell right off the porch.

I could hear BT laughing his ass off in the back of the hummer.

"Yeah!" I yelled. "Why don't you get your gimpy ass over here and give it a try?"

His chortling came to a quick and satisfying halt.

"The door must be braced from the inside." I said to anyone that would listen as I rubbed my shin.

Tommy joined me up on the porch, his eyes all puffy as if from crying. He didn't say anything to me as he bent down and grabbed the key that had been strategically placed under the welcome mat, unlocked the door and walked in.

"Who still does that?" I asked him as I followed into the house.

"Talbot?" Tracy yelled from outside. I backed up and stuck my head out. "What should we do?"

"Shut off the hummer and come on in." Seemed a rational enough response. Tommy had gone in. I still had to trust his 'gift'.

A heavy dust swirled in the light. I ran my finger across an old oak table. There was an accumulated layer of the fine dirt but nothing that hinted to longevity. Maybe as much as it would take to amass say since December 7^th of the previous year. Chances were that these folks, the Powells, went to their local church when the end came. I knew the family name from the sign that welcomed all guests to The Powells, Union Station.

Travis was last in as he helped his grandmother. "You want me to shut the door, Dad?"

The interior of the house was that bone-chilling cold that can only come from an untended home, and had to be at least 15 degrees cooler than outside, but cold you can suffer with. Death from unknown sources, not so much. "Yeah go ahead and shut it and we'll see if we can get a fire going."

BT was briskly rubbing his hands together. "I'll get it going Mike," he volunteered.

"Dad, what about the smoke? Won't somebody see it?" Nicole asked as she clutched her arms over her chest.

I went over to her and rubbed her shoulders in a vain attempt to generate some heat. "More concerned with freezing to death at this point. We'll deal with each life threatening event as it happens." My words did little to ease her tension. It was just the truth, really, we weren't going to have to defend ourselves if we ended up frozen to death.

I nodded to BT to get that fire going. "Alright Trace, Nicole, I hate to be sexist..."

"No, you don't, but go on," Tracy said patting my head.

"Okay smart ass, could you please check the kitchen and hopefully the pantry and see what we've got for grub. The boys and I are going to check upstairs for whatever seems useful, especially blankets," I said, as I looked over to a shivering Carol. Henry had clambered up onto the couch with her and made sure as much of his body was making contact with her as was doggily possible. She seemed to appreciate the gesture as she affectionately rubbed his back.

The house was huge with high, hard-to-heat ceilings. Never could figure out why they made such tall ceilings when people were shorter back then. The contents of the abode were Spartan to put it gently. Had the place not looked so neat, I would have thought the place had been cleaned out by raiders. Listen, we both know I'm cynical, but I really felt like the Powells had attempted to buy their way into Heaven. The clues were the bare minimum of furnishings and the multitude of crosses and pictures of Our Father Who Art in Heaven that lined almost every available space on the walls. It took closer inspection to realize that the pictures were indeed that and not some Divine Wallpaper. Yes, I know I'm going to Hell. Feel free to cut in front if it makes you feel any better.

They at least had a myriad of blankets. Apparently, God liked his children to be warm. The upstairs also yielded two flashlights and the Holy Grail, or at least a breech loading over under barrel 10-gauge shotgun with a whopping seventeen shells. I really hoped nobody came a-visitin' as I'd never shot a 10-gauge before, but with its stout wooden no-give stock, I was pretty sure it was not going to be a pleasant experience.

I sent the boys downstairs to hand out blankets to an adoring crowd. I stayed upstairs, having found old farmer Powell's closet. We were nowhere near a match, size wise, as he seemed to have been enjoying the fruits of his labors maybe a tad too much. However, his clothes weren't covered in human remains and that was good enough for me. I checked the tap hoping that the water might still be running, but no such luck. My next option was the water in the toilet bowl. Given my aversion to germs this might not seem a wise course of action, but it was still light years ahead of what was clinging to my skin. The water was frozen solid. I would have to stay a little while longer in this condition as my only other option was to find a container, get some snow and melt it.

I plodded downstairs, not happy at all. Have you ever had a runny nose and the snot gets right to the edge of your nostril and you get this insanely tickling, itching sensation that you can not immediately take care of, because maybe you're in public, possibly talking to a bank teller? Take that feeling, amp it up maybe ten or eleven times, and that's what I felt like. Every time I took a step, the drying remains of that poor soul rubbed on my legs, thighs and ass, up my butt crack and, oh fuck, on my NUTS! I wanted the feeling of how when you finally step away from the teller's window, you take the sleeve of your jacket and just go to town on that itch. That satisfying 'Ah I win' sensation and for just a few moments in time all seems right in the world. Side note, if you're female, replace sleeve with tissue.

The beginnings of a fire were being well tended by BT. Henry and Carol were swallowed up in a huge plaid comforter; both looked on the verge of a serious nap. Good for them. Tracy and Nicole were taking stuff out of a pantry that looked stocked enough to take on a complete cold Pennsylvania winter.

Tracy wiped a strand of hair out of her face. "Stuff in the fridge has mostly gone over, nothing really worth salvaging. Smells better than Henry's butt in there but not by much."

Oh, my stomach almost got queasy. The fridge was definitely off limits.

"Got a big pot in there or something?" I asked, not really all that interested in checking out the menu just yet.

"No water?" Tracy asked getting right to the root of the matter.

I shook my head as she handed me a good size container.

I went outside and stuffed that thing full. BT looked like he wanted to hit me as I started to crowd out his burgeoning fire with my giant snow-filled pot. I think the only thing that held him up was the miserable expression on my face. The snow took somewhere in the neighborhood of a half-hour to melt. I know this because I did one Mississippi, two Mississippi etc for the whole time. It was this monotonous obsessive compulsive counting that let me stay sane those last few agonizing moments.

The water had barely let go of its previous frozen state when I grabbed the pot and headed back upstairs. As it was there were still chunks of ice floating around, but it didn't matter at this point. I found what looked like lumpy homemade soap up in the master bathroom. I was so distressed I didn't even think about whose body this may have last touched. Oh, I didn't mention that small tidbit? I used to have to have my own dedicated soap bar or I'd rather forego cleansing. The motel had those small individual ones so I had been alright. Didn't matter a lick this time though. I grabbed a small towel out of the closet, soaked it in ice water, lathered it up with soap and proceeded to rub my skin to a nice shiny red rawness.

Three blood soaked towels later, I felt better, not clean mind you, but better. The bathroom floor looked like Lizzie Borden had lived here. If someone stumbled across this place after us they would have grim visions of what must have happened here. I found a belt, drilled a new fastening hole into it and cinched up my pants. I would have to go commando from here on out, I would never be 'cured' enough to put on someone else's briefs. There was a nice warm red wool plaid shirt to go along with my country-faded blue jeans, I was even able to snag a nice comfortable pair of socks. No fashion show trophies for me, but I was warm and functionality is the cornerstone of survivalism.

When I came back downstairs, BT was melting another big pot of snow, some for drinking and cooking with and some if folks wanted to clean up a bit. It must have been sometime around noon judging by the sun. BT's fire had the room not balmy but homey. Almost everyone had eaten at least one or two cans of fruit. Nearly sated belly, a warm fire and a place to rest my ass, it all spelled a recipe for some much needed shut-eye. The finished can of sweetened pears fell out of my hand as I nodded off into the netherworld.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - JOURNAL ENTRY 22 -

The fire was a glowing ember when I awoke. The room was near to stifling, at some point I had pushed the blanket completely off of me and onto Carol. Night had descended and poetically I'd like to say so had my spirits, but in actuality they had been rising since I had been able to scrape myself clean. We were close to Maine. I could almost taste it. My previous dire predictions of what remained there now seemed ill conceived. My family was there, they were a huge factor in my Armageddon paranoia. Compared to them I was the sane one. (I know, scary thought, right!?) We would get there, bloody, beaten and bruised, but not defeated.

I headed into the kitchen to look out the window, not much good that did me. A zombie could have been on the other side of the glass looking in and I wouldn't have been able to see it on this cloudy moonless night. I shuddered and stepped back, pissed off that I was giving myself the frights. 'Shits not bad enough, Talbot, you have to go and make stuff up?' My self-chastisement over, I opened the fridge, forgetting my wife's earlier warning. The waft of stale moldy food almost knocked me on my ass. That was, of course, until I saw the telltale glint of fire embers bouncing off the glistening bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Farmer Powell may have been a religious man; thank God he wasn't abstemious too. I joyfully wrapped my hand around the cold bottle, trying to figure out why the makers of PBR wasted glass on the internal contents. I didn't waste another moment dwelling on PBR's manufacturing idiosyncrasies as I twisted the cap off and drank greedily.

I could tell BT was shuffling around in the other room by his grunting and groaning. He was stoking the dying fire. A minute or two later the living room began to dance in the light of the reinvigorated blaze.

BT came into the kitchen shortly thereafter. "You found beer?" he asked, looking longingly at my bottle of beer.

"Barely." I motioned to the fridge. A good friend would have got up and got his buddy with the healing broken leg a brew, but I wanted him to experience the wonderful odor that came from the tainted appliance much like I had.

I laughed when he nearly swooned from the pungulence. (Yes I made this word up, somehow seems right.) I'll give him credit though, he hung tough and grabbed a beer before he slammed the door shut and scrambled backwards.

"You knew, right?" he asked, sitting down at the table and taking a safe breath.

I nodded as I took another gulp.

"Thanks for the warning." he said acerbically as he twisted his cap off.

"Any time. I'm going to have to get Travis up soon."

BT looked at me questioningly as he took his own pull from the beer bottle.

"I'm almost out," I said, as I shook my bottle "and I'm not opening that fridge again."

"You're not a nice man, Mike," BT said and we both laughed. His face grew more serious. "Mike, I've got to admit this is the worst I've felt since we locked those doors at Safeway a few months back."

"I think a lot had to do with losing that base. We had it pretty good for a while. Someone else was protecting us. We got to pretend we were once again living our normal lives. And now…."

"We're back in the thick of the shit," he finished solemnly.

"Yeah it's definitely much, much better being in the tapered thinner ends of the shit."

BT looked like he wanted to say something more but in the end he just nodded in agreement and drank another swig.

"Speaking of shit."

"Here we go," BT said as he shook his head.

"Why are shits tapered at the end?" I asked him.

"Please tell me this is a joke."

"So your asshole doesn't slam shut," I finished smiling.

BT had beer shooting out his nose he was laughing so violently. "You're a dick," he said, getting up to get the dishtowel hanging on the oven door handle.

Travis came into the kitchen. "Everything alright?" he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Well, now that you ask. I sure could use a beer," I told him, pointing towards the fridge.

"You have no bounds, Mike," BT said as he wiped his face dry with his sleeve. "I'll get them Travis. Your dad's setting you up."

I feigned innocence, it was a pose I had adopted entirely too many times over the years. Its effectiveness had dwindled to less than zero.

"Something going to pop out?" Travis asked, intrigued.

"Something like that. Hold your breath," BT said as he slid his chair over to get a couple more brewskis.

"Dad?" Travis asked.

I nodded to BT. He grabbed an extra beer. Guy code is pretty funny. We sometimes can get a lot accomplished with very little verbiage. With one word I ascertained that my son was asking permission to drink a previously restricted beverage, and with only a head nod to BT he realized that I had answered my son's question in the affirmative and he was now fulfilling the order. I guess if someone really wants to go back to the beginning of early man, this type of communication was an evolutionary necessity. When men were hunting prey that was more dangerous than them, they had to get across as much meaning as possible without any verbal communication so as not to alert their intended dinner. I didn't have a problem giving my underage son a beer. Societal laws were now a thing of the past. Life expectancy had gone from somewhere around 79 to most likely somewhere in the 20's. I wanted my son to enjoy as much as life still had to offer at this point, and if part of that involved a so-called 'illegal' beer, so be it. Of all the things I was going to lose sleep over, this wasn't going to be one of them. That was, of course, unless Tracy found out about it, and then she'd make sure I would.

We sat there together in blissful silence, enjoying each other's company and the beverages. Travis was halfway through with his beer when he finally spoke. "Dad, I'm scared."

I nearly choked on my beer as my heart sank somewhere down deep into the depths of despair. To protect, to shelter, to encourage, to cheer on, these are just some of the things fathers do for their kids. Now, I'm not ignorant of the situation, I knew that what was happening was far beyond my scope to control or to temper. I had been doing everything in my limited power to make everything as right as possible, but was it enough? I stood up and hugged him. I had no empty hollow words to try and assuage him, and he would have known them for what they were anyway.

BT was looking away, absently peeling the label off his beer. "How long are we staying here Mike?" he asked.

I pulled away from Travis. We both may have tried to mask an errant flow of briny water. "Tomorrow we'll check the barn and hope we get lucky with some new wheels. He should at the very least have some gas for the hummer."

"Isn't the hummer diesel though?" Travis asked.

"From the mouths of babe," I said absently. "Hadn't even thought of that."

"Diesel, gas what the hell's the difference?" BT asked.

"We put gas in that thing and we won't get a mile before the engine probably shuts down, although we couldn't get a mile with what's in that tank right now either."

"We can't stay here!" BT said, alarmed and possibly realizing for the first time that we were in essence trapped. "Maybe we can walk to the nearest town?" he asked hopefully.

"Nothing personal BT, but between your leg, Carol's age, the frigid temperature and a short legged bulldog, we'd be in a lot of trouble. Who knows how far it is to the next anything."

"Couldn't we just go from house to house?" Travis asked.

"We got pretty lucky with this one." BT said.

"Yeah, going up to people's houses like this is sort of like playing Russian Roulette. Eventually we're going to come across an occupied place with a trigger happy, cautious owner." I said, taking another pull from my beer. I had just begun to dwell on how truly screwed we were. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, from the fire into the coals, out of the coals and into some ill placed lava, from the lava and into hell itself. "Wonderful," I said, finishing my second beer. My earlier head fog evaporated under the heat of realization.

If the night wasn't so entirely bathed in black, I would have chanced going to the barn now to see where we stood, equipment, supplies and transportation wise. This way, however, I would get to toss and turn all night guessing on what would not be in there.

"Anyone want another?" I asked, this time oblivious to the stink that came out of the fridge.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" BT asked, indicating I'd already drank two of the frothy beverages.

"I can die just as easily with three as I can with two." I stood up to see two shocked expressions looking back at me. "Sorry, just feeling a little bitter there for a sec." I stooped to unhappily put my beer back. 'I'll be back,' I whispered to it.

"We heard that." BT said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - JOURNAL ENTRY 23 -

The next morning couldn't come soon enough, considering I stayed up the whole time waiting for it. The sun rose over the pine trees revealing nothing but a white expanse. I went back upstairs and rooted around until I found what I was looking for. "Thermals! Yes!" I said triumphantly. Technically these are long underwear but since I cannot wear someone else's undergarments, this was my coping mechanism. All of us are flawed. It is our responsibility to find ways around those inherent issues.

"Where are you going, Michael?" Carol asked, as I came down the stairs. Her voice was weak and thready. Stress was not doing any of us any favors but she seemed to be weathering it with more difficulty than the rest of us.

"I'm going to check the barn and see if there is something in there that will help us get out of here," I responded, patting her on the shoulder as I passed.

"We're not staying here?" she asked, gripping my arm with more strength than I thought she had left in her.

"Wow, forgot you grew up on a farm," I said rubbing my forearm. I was trying for a little grain of humor. I knew what path this conversation was going down and it looked like it was full of thorns and prickers. Carol wasn't biting on my lame attempt to diffuse her train of thought. "Carol, we can't stay here and neither can you," I said before she had the chance to bring up that very subject. She looked more than a little pissed that I had cut her off at the knees. "Listen, if you don't go, neither will Tracy and if she doesn't go, neither do the kids or me."

"Is that so bad?" Carol asked. "We have a house and at least enough food to get us through the next month or so. Then when the weather turns we can plant everything we need to."

I truly felt bad for her. She had not been happy since she left her home in North Dakota. She wasn't looking ahead. I really tried to be gentle but it's just not in my nature. "This place would be great for about a week Carol, and then we'd be dead." Too blunt? She was taken aback at my candor. "Eliza will regroup if she hasn't already and the next time we meet she won't be so kind." I said, as I rubbed my jaw, the pain of Eliza's blow still fresh in my mind. Why I wasn't eating out of a straw right now was still a mystery to me.

"Michael, I can't keep doing this. This running, and hiding and fighting, I can't do it." She started to cry.

Tracy rounded the corner at just that moment. "Jesus, Mike what the hell did you say to her?" Tracy asked, as she wrapped her arms around her mother. "Come on Mom, let's go sit in the living room, you're freezing." She shot me a wicked glare as she turned her mother around.

I shrugged my shoulders, a victim of circumstances yet again.

"You ready?" BT asked me as he came out of the kitchen. He passed Tracy and Carol as they headed into the living room. "Jesus, Mike what the hell did you do?"

"You too? Are you kidding me? I'm going to the barn," I said indignantly.

"Do you mind if I go with you, Dad?" Nicole asked as she adjusted her gloves.

She still hadn't told me she was pregnant, and as always I was hesitant to put her in danger, especially now that she also carried the future of the Talbots. I took a long look out the side window. Everything still seemed alright and nothing smelled afoul, and I meant that literally.

"Sure, come on." I told her. I kind of had to take her. If she got to crying, Tracy would blame me for that too.

Travis was watching. He didn't look like he was in any big rush to go into the cold.

"Hey bud, could you do me a favor and go hang out in the bedroom that overlooks the barn and just keep a watch out?" I asked Travis.

He seemed pretty relieved that his part didn't involve going outside. "No problem," he said. Tommy quickly fell into step behind him, never once looking over towards me.

"Hey Tommy, if you could keep an eye out on the other side that would be great," I shouted to his back as he headed up the stairs. I think he grunted a 'yes' in reply.

"Relax Tommy, we can't pick who we're related to," I heard Travis tell Tommy as they made it to the top of the stairs. "If we could, I would have traded Justin in years ago." Tommy laughed. It was the first time in a while. It was a welcome sound.

"I heard that little brother!" Justin shouted from the general direction of the pantry.

CHAPTER THIRTY - JOURNAL ENTRY 24 -

The barn was a treasure trove of trash. Broken tools lined the walls. Various sized engine blocks created a haphazard maze. In one of the far corners, debris and trash was piled so high, that any shifting of contents would cause an avalanche of refuse. I was surprised, seeing as how the house was so tidy. My guess was the house was Mrs. Powell's domain, and the barn belonged to Mr. Powell.

"Great." BT said sarcastically. "Of all the farms in Pennsylvania we have to find a hoarder's."

I shrugged my shoulders as I was climbing over a small wall of transmissions.

"Ever build a car?" I asked BT as I got to a stack of carburetors.

"Didn't I tell you?"

He said it so earnestly I had to turn and see if he was telling the truth. He wasn't. BT was still scaling the transmissions when I made it around a stack of radiators that had to be at least 10 high and 5 across. The majority of stuff here was garbage with two notable exceptions and I was staring at them. The first was a 1950's pick-up truck and the second one was an older John Deere tractor.

Nicole had come up beside me. I was apprehensive about her climbing all over the rusted metal lest she hurt something inside of her. I could tell she appreciated all the extra help I was giving her as she traversed the pile but she was also giving me a look of 'What gives?'

BT had finally mustered his way up to me, a nice looking mahogany cane in his hand. "Ah, so this isn't the only thing in here worth something," he said, holding his cane up.

One tire was flat and the bed of the truck was exposed. All three of us had the same thought. BT voiced it first. "Gonna be pretty cold in that truck bed."

"Sure is, too bad you can't drive with that busted leg of yours."

"Nicole, have I told you lately that your dad is not a nice man?"

I shrugged my shoulders again. "Doesn't matter much if there isn't a spare," I said pointing to the flat. "On the other hand, that tractor is making me sort of gleeful."

"Gleeful?"

"Just an expression."

"Yeah, just don't stand too close," he said holding his cane up to make sure that I knew he had a weapon. "Can't really see what a tractor is going to do for us? We can't all fit and there's no cab for any of us to stay warm."

"Not the tractor itself but what it runs on."

"Diesel? That thing runs on diesel?" BT asked hopefully.

"Pretty sure and these farmers usually store it in big 55 gallon drums."

BT looked a little deflated. "This place looks like a graveyard for all things busted, you think he was even using that thing?"

"I hope so, plus it looks like we came in from the wrong side. The barn is free and clear on the other side."

"So he could drive that thing in and out."

"See, now you look gleeful."

"Watch it, Talbot."

"Don't worry, you're not my type."

"What, too pretty?"

"Yeah that's it." I said as I reached up and clapped his shoulder. This was the first break we'd had in a bit. I just hoped it panned out.

"Bingo!" BT yelled as he got to the other side of the tractor. He was pointing with his cane to the left hand side of the barn at four 55-gallon drums of something.

He had already found the drums, so I was going to make sure I found the fuel. I rushed passed him. "Glory whore!" he shouted.

The first drum fell over as I pushed a little too forcefully while checking for any contents, nearly smashing Nicole's toes in the process. The second also fell away. BT was beside me as I got to the third barrel. What started off sweetly was quickly turning sour. I was getting anxious. The third barrel had a hand pump secured to the top for dispensing the fuel. It didn't move nearly as easily as the first two, but it did not hold its ground as firmly as I would have liked when I pushed against it.

"Maybe twenty gallons," I told BT. "But that's a complete guess."

"That's a start, right?"

"At 11 miles to the gallon it won't get us halfway to where we need to go."

"How many gallons does the hummer hold?"

"I think around forty, forty-two maybe."

"You going to check the fourth barrel?" he asked apprehensively.

"Why don't you, my luck isn't so good today."

BT whacked his cane against the side. The sound was resoundingly positive. The impression of fullness reverberated joyfully in our souls.

"Probably should make sure it's not cow piss before we celebrate too much." I told BT.

"Wait, what? Why would a farmer need cow piss?"

"He's messing with you BT," Nicole said with a smile.

"This is where I'd laugh my ass off if you weren't such a friggen giant." I smirked at him.

"Just check it," BT said, and I could tell by the sound of the words he wanted to add an expletive at the end.

I unscrewed the small air tap and was welcomed with the slightly metallic, bitter smell of a full drum of diesel fuel. If it was gas we'd have to take the truck and no one would relish their time in the back no matter how many blankets we could stuff back there.

"Now what?" BT asked.

"Well, first I'm ripping the upholstery out of the drivers' seat in the hummer. I don't care if I'm sitting on bare metal, there's no way I'm sitting back down on the remains of that poor bastard. Then I'm driving that thing over here, filling it up. Maybe see if there is anything worth draining out of the tractor. Then I'm going to need a little help polishing off those beers and then tomorrow we head out."

"Sounds like a plan," BT said as he headed out what was apparently the front door of the barn. With only bits of straw to impede his progress, he made good time.

"Hey, don't sweat it. I don't need any help." I shouted to his back.

"Good thing," he replied. "I'm tired and my leg hurts."

"Always with the leg, how long you gonna milk that?" BT flipped me off and then I lost him in the glare of the snow-shine as he opened the door. "Real nice, you know that hurts my feelings right?"

Nicole took this moment while we were alone to ask a question. I figured this was going to be the big reveal.

"Dad, can I talk to you?"

"Sure sweetie. What is it?" I asked as I turned away from the drums to look at her.

Two sounds took this most inopportune time to fight simultaneously for my attention, my son's shout of warning and the high-pitched whine of a small vehicle engine. Sounded like a damn mini-bike but I couldn't figure out how someone could possibly be driving one in this snow. BT was no more than two strides from the door when I caught up to him. His gaze led right to the intruder astride a snow mobile.

"Oh, that's what that is."

"He's got a rifle," BT said, squinting with his hand shielding the sunlight from his eyes.

"Doesn't necessarily mean trouble. Wouldn't you have one if you had the choice?"

"I hear your words Mike, but they're not making me feel any better."

"Yeah, me neither. How close would I have to get to use a pitchfork?" I looked back towards the house. Travis was pointing towards the vehicle and now people were lining the windows on the first floor to get a better view. "I wish they'd be a little more inconspicuous."

"Yeah me too." BT agreed, never looking towards the house to see what I was talking about. "Umm, Mike."

"Yeah?" Just then the snowmobile revved high and shut off. The ensuing silence was not nearly as peaceful as it had been a moment before his arrival. Expectancy hung in the air.

"Good to see you're doing well, Mike." A cold calculating voice shouted across the vast white waste.

"Durgan." BT and I said simultaneously.

"He's like a cockroach," I bitched. "Can't kill him."

"Mike, we need to talk!" Durgan shouted.

"I'm a little busy right now, I've got some muffins in the oven and I really don't want them to burn!" Durgan didn't laugh. I glanced over at BT. "He really doesn't appreciate my humor."