The End Has Come and Gone

Eliza and Tomas Interlude

“Are you controlling the zombies’ motor skills, Brother?”

“Yes, do you like it?”

Eliza did not answer her brother. For the first time in a very, very long time, an unfamiliar feeling jolted through her frozen veins. She thought it might be fear.

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

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

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

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

“Great idea Mike!” Tracy said in encouragement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugged his shoulders.

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t turn around Mike,” Paul said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better than you,” BT said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Henry’s up!” Justin shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that one!” BT shouted.

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

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

“The both of us?” I asked him.

“Probably,” the one called Mad Jack said.

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

“The rope is breaking!” April shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet you,” I growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

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

“How did you find us?” Paul asked.

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

“She’s here,” I told them.

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

I nodded.

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

I shook my head.

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

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

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

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

“Still locked?” I asked him.

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

“You think?” I asked him.

*

Gary hadn’t been away from the door for more than a few minutes when it looked like it was beginning to bulge out. I thought I was seeing things at first, but it was tough not to hear the groan as the metal of the door began to stretch and pop.

“Incoming!” Brian shouted.

What were individual groups moments previously now became one discombobulated mass.

“Joann, you and Eddy might want to get behind the first line,” I told her, motioning back. She looked terrified but she did it.

For all the pressure the door was under, it was kind of anti-climactic as it swung open gently. But what flooded through more than made up for the lackluster revealing. At first we could keep up with the zombies coming through the choke point. Zombies staggered in by ones and twos, then threes and fours, and like always they began to overrun our suppressive fire. So many zombies and so few bullets. It took me back for a moment to my time in the service when we were in class studying tactics .

When Iran and Iraq had been were having their Holy War (I always wondered if God truly approved of those that died in his name, whether you called him God, Allah, or Buddha, I doubt it. I can’t imagine an omnipotent being creating his children in his image so that they could murder, rape and pillage each other in his name. To me it sounds like a bunch of spoiled brats that were in need of some heavy slapping upside the head. Once upon a time he released the flood waters to purge man, the zombies were the modern version of a scouring. Lord knows we needed it, no pun intended.) Back to my original tangent; if I go off on too many branches, I’ll never find my path home. Iran was losing the war badly, so they did what any civilized country would do, they rounded up one million children, armed them only with the knowledge that Allah awaited them and then sent them in huge waves against the Iraqi machine gun nests.

So a million unarmed children running at full speed across the desert did what the entire Iranian army could not. They overtook the Iraqi positions. Oh, it wasn’t that the Iraqis couldn’t fire upon and kill children, it’s just that they couldn’t fire enough rounds to stop them, and that was what was happening to us. Although I could say I was eternally grateful I was shooting flesh eating zombies rather than innocent children who believed death by machine gun fire was a viable alternative to living in Iran .

We were yielding inches of precious footing on that roof and the zombies were taking feet.

“Hold tight!” I yelled, watching April. She looked like she was going to bolt followed by Joann. Where did the hell they think they were going to go?

Brass flew. I was burned more than a few times as the hot ejecta passed me by. We were so tightly grouped one hand grenade could have taken us all out. My drill sergeant would have kicked my ass if he could see me now. I wondered what happened to him. He was entirely too mean to die, probably scared the shit out of the Reaper when he came to collect him.

I dry fired my rifle, quickly feeling around for a replacement magazine that wasn’t there.

“This sucks!” I shouted to the wind.

Gary looked over. He was placing well aimed shots center mass in the foreheads of our opponents. “What?” he yelled over the din.

“I’m pretty much out of ammo.” I uttered the two words in battle I swore I would avoid at all costs. “Fix bayonets!” “What the hell are you talking about?” BT asked, raising his cheek off of his stock.

I grabbed the Bowie knife I had strapped to my side. I didn’t actually attach it to my rifle; it was just a play on words. Our position was tenuous to say the least. Our backs were against the wall (no, literally, they were). Zombies had completely taken over the roof. Some of the speeders were actually so close that my weapon could be of use. I’d never stabbed anyone in the head, until now that is. I figured a direct thrust into the forehead most likely wasn’t the best idea. I was afraid that if my blade did penetrate, that it would get stuck and then I’d be down to hand-to-mouth combat. Or possibly, if I didn’t get a straight enough push, the blade would glance harmlessly off the thing’s skull. Sure, it would open up a wicked wound and rip the flesh clean off exposing the white bone beneath, but the zombie sure wouldn’t care. I came in sideways striking home through the temple. I’d had a harder time cutting off pats of butter back in the day than I did driving that knife home. If anything, I went too deep scrambling that thing ’s blackened brain matter. It couldn’t drop fast enough as I pulled my knife free.

“That’s pretty gross,” BT said, kicking one of the zombies away before placing a pistol shot in its skull.

We were so tightly packed together at the end, it was tough to tell where I ended and the next body began.

Tracy whispered in my ear, “I’ve always loved you, Mike, even after all these years.” “Even after all my idiosyncrasies?”

“Maybe even more so because of them; they make you who you are.”

“So you pretty much thinking this is the end then?” I asked her as I pulled my blade free from its errant placement in a zombie’s shoulder. Its teeth snapped dangerously close to my hand. Gary blew the side of its face off. Its exposed chattering teeth made it seem that much more dangerous. If it got a hold of my fingers now, I could watch it eat them and swallow. I know that would have been too much.

“You should be more careful Dad,” Travis said, finishing the beast off.

I nodded my head in thanks.

“Just know that I love you,” Tracy said behind me.

“The fat lady isn’t singing just yet,” BT said, eavesdropping on our conversation.

“This is an intimate moment right now, do you mind?” I asked.

“Not at all, take a moment, maybe go find a quiet area,” he said, breathing heavily. He was also out of bullets and was using his rifle as a club.

Thank the stars he was so tall that when he swung, no one needed to duck.

“The fat lady might not be singing yet, but she sure is stuffing her face at the buffet table,” Justin said between rounds.

“Is anyone not listening to our conversation?” I asked the group. I received no response. “Great,” I said sarcastically.

My arms hurt from swinging and I only heard a few shots going off. The roof was covered in the detritus from zombie bodies, so much so I thought the roof might be in danger of collapsing under their combined weight. I knew it was only a matter of time. Nobody ever survives a zombie apocalypse, it just isn’t in the cards. A speeder came up on me so fast I was only able to raise my knife in defense. I watched as his mouth closed down on the blade. His teeth splintered on the cold metal and his lips ripped where they made contact with the sharply honed blade. He shook his head from side to side. I guess he thought that he had struck a particularly tough piece of human gristle and if he shook hard enough and long enough he would be rewarded with the sweet, savory satisfaction of meat.

What the ass did succeed in doing was to pull my knife from my blood soaked hand. Not sure who finished the blade stealer off, but he let go of my knife at the same moment a bullet pierced his skull. The backward push on his brain bucket sent my knife into the air, not far mind you, but I was in a little bit of a sticky wicket. You know, being in the middle of a battle with nothing more than my wits was not a great place to be, considering my wife would probably tell you I’d be wholly unprepared for such a confrontation.

As I reached out to grab the knife and came back up to defend myself, I felt the press of teeth on my shoulder. ‘What a way to go,’ I thought to myself as I came completely up. “What the…!” is what I yelled.

Staring back at me, tongue lolling all over the place, was Red Neck Number One. Of course if you remember correctly, he was missing his jaw due to some heavy facial reconstruction from Henry. So Redneck Number One, for the third time, almost got the best of me. “Third time’s the charm,” I told him as I shoved the knife up through his soft palate. There would be no fourth encounter.

“Sorry man,” BT said, “I missed him completely!” he shouted, blowing a few more zombies to their version of Kingdom Come.

“It’s alright, this one was personal,” I grimaced as I pulled my knife free. RN#1’s cowboy-boot-wearing feet twitched a couple of times and then I lay to rest at least one of my nightmare s . And then I prepared for more. The zombies stopped their approach at precisely the same time I heard my name spoken.

“Michael,” Eliza’s voice came silently but with force.

“That Eliza?” Paul asked.

“You heard that?” Justin asked him.

“I thought that was in my head,” I said.

“Conversing with the enemy?” Alex asked.

If I thought we were tightly packed beforehand, I was now able to tell who had Chapstick in their pockets and who was just happy to see me.

“That’s her?” Perla asked, the whites of her eyes more abundantly exposed as fear pulled her features taut.

“She doesn’t sound so bad,” Cindy said, trying to bolster her flagging spirits.

Just the sound of Eliza’s voice was enough to suck the soul from a preacher and not many of us looked pious just now.

“Why are you keeping her waiting?” April asked anxiously.

“If you’re in such a rush, why don’t you go say ‘Hi,’” BT told her heatedly.

Like a little kid April hid behind the petticoats of Mad Jack. That is, assuming that he had petticoats on, but you get the picture.

“See, I told you she only wanted him. El Diablo!” Marta screamed.

“El Diablo,” Mrs. Deneaux mirrored. “That’s rich!” as she took a puff off her cigarette.

“When the hell did you have enough time to light that?” I asked her.

“If I was to die I thought it only dignified that I do so with a Chesterfield in my mouth,” Mrs. Deneaux said smoothly.

Not a bad ad campaign I thought. Pretty sure Chesterfield wouldn’t have agreed.

Travis stood up precariously on the lip of the wall so that he could get a better angle over the tops of the zombies’ heads. He blasted two rounds through the open door. We all hoped he got lucky.

Eliza’s echoing laugh in the stairwell soon answered that question. A lone cataract-eyed zombie fell face first through the portal, his tongue hanging out inches below his open mouth. I was instantly transported back to Day One and Sir Licks A Lot. That was back when a zombie invasion was what it should be, all slow shufflers with no one to lead them. Ah, the Good Old Days.

“If your spawn deigns to live through the day I would suggest that he does not fire his rifle again,” Eliza said, her voice traveling elusively in the acoustic laden stairwell, making it difficult to get a fix on her. But what do I know? It could be some Vampire trickery.

“Still though, it is a damn shame he missed,” I told her.

I think she hissed, either that or a cat got its tail stepped on.

“I’ve got a surprise for you Michael,” she lilted.

I quaked as I realized what her surprise most likely was. ‘Oh, poor Tommy.’ I was already mourning his passing.

“Michael?” a labored voice asked.

I looked over towards Tracy, whose interest was piqued as was BT’s.

“Is Lawrence with you?” the voice struggled to ask.

Questioning looks passed throughout the group. This was a gravely serious time, but still I couldn’t resist a small dig on my friend. Who knows? It could be my last time, might as well do it while you can… no regrets! “Hey Doc, yeah, BT is with us.” “BT’s name is Lawrence?” Alex asked me.

BT looked at me like he was going to rip my spleen clean from my body.

“I’m here Doc,” BT said.

“She’s killed my wife,” Doc said, choking back the tears.

“What about the kids, Doc?” I asked hesitantly.

“She… she hung her upside down and then slit her throat. She made Tommy drink all of her blood as it fell… oh God!” The doc was having a very difficult time reliving the event, but he kept on going.

“She turned Tommy,” Justin said bowing his head in grief.

“Then, when the boy was done, she just let the zombies have the rest, like my beautiful wife was a side of beef.” Doc was full on crying, “She made me watch the whole thing. She swore she would do that to my kids… I believed her. I had to do it!” The doc was needlessly asking for our forgiveness. He did whatever he needed to do to protect the rest of his family. Who am I to judge, and I told him so.

“Doc, you did what you needed to,” I said, putting as much commiseration into my words as I could.

“Mike…” he paused. “I saved her. I saved Eliza.” He started crying again, or had he ever stopped?

“Are you not happy, Michael? I once again walk among the immortals,” Eliza said gleefully.

We could hear the doc being removed from the scene.

“Where are those kids, Eliza?” I said menacingly.

“Where I wish them to be,” she answered cryptically.

That ranged from a room downstairs to a zombie’s belly.

“Eliza,” I started.

“Silence!” she yelled. “I owe no answers to you!”

The force of her words pushed us all back a step or two. I noticed April looking down the wall again as that was a potential avenue of escape. Hell, so was I. Maybe the zombies would break our fall and we could run on top of their heads. It could work, I saw something like it in a cartoon.

“This ends tonight Michael,” she said in a more even tone.

“About fucking time!” Travis yelled.

Tracy and I both turned to him. “No swearing!” we said together.

“Just get on with it Eliza. I figured you to be above the theatrics,” I told her.

She was quiet. Any chance I ruffled her feathers? I could only hope.

“Very well, but one more thing. I have someone here who wishes to say hello.”

“Hello Mr. T,” Tommy said in the voice we had all come to love but that no longer carried any warmth within its timbre.

“Tommy?” I asked, hoping above and beyond any recognizable chance that it wasn’t him.

“It’s Tomas,” he answered. The cold response sent shivers through me.

“Is there anything from the boy we love still in there?” I asked him unsteadily.

“Tommy died alone and in the dark, Mr. T.”

“I’m sorry for that Tomas.”

“So was he.”

“What a touching family reunion,” Eliza said, her voice as brittle as broken glass.

“Any chance of a one-on-one Eliza, me against you for the fate of our souls?” I asked. Rage burned through the fibers of my being like a wildfire sparked from a lightning strike.

“Mistress, let me be your champion!” Durgan shouted.

“He’s still alive?” BT asked me quietly.

“Apparently,” I said dejectedly.

“That could be amusing,” Eliza said.

“As soon as you open that door, I’ll blow a hole in his friggen’ head,” I said, meaning every word.

“Not very sporting of you, Michael,” Eliza laughed.

“I don’t much see any reason why I should get the snot beat out of me before I die,” I told her.

“But yet you wish to fight with me. Surely you know that there is not a mortal on this world that can defeat me,” Eliza said triumphantly.

“I would only agree to fight you if you let my family and friends go unharmed, to live out their lives as they see fit.” “Michael, the fun will be when I kill them all one by one as you watch. I could never let them go. Perhaps we can work out a different arrangement.” “I’m listening,” What choice did I have?

“What if I allowed Durgan to fight you? If you best him, I would allow your family and friends to go unharmed.” “And what of my husband?” Tracy asked.

“Either way he dies, of course, and in front of his family,” Eliza answered as if this were the most insane question she had ever heard.

“No, Talbot!” Tracy said thrusting a finger in my face.

“Tracy, I will do whatever I can to make sure that all of you are safe.” “What makes you think she will honor her end of the agreement?”

“What makes you think he could beat me?” Durgan yelled.

I hadn’t thought about Eliza not following through with her promise but it wasn’t like Vampires were noted for their honor.

“Eliza, how valid is your word?” I asked, although what was I expecting? If she lied about the first part, wouldn’t she do the same with the second? Maybe some morality would bleed through. Yup, little known fact, soulless demons can’t tell two lies in a row.

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Michael,” Eliza said coolly.

“Mike, technically her heart doesn’t beat and she is already dead,” Gary cautioned.

“Thanks for that,” I told him.

“Mike, let me fight Durgan, I’ve been wanting to bust his ass up forever,” BT said with a smile that scared the hell out of me. “I’ll fight that racist prick! I’ll be Mike’s champion!” BT yelled before I had a chance to tell him this was my fight.

“What is this, 1634?” I said, “I can fight my own damn battles.”

“Who you kidding Mike? He’ll kick your ass,” BT said none too softly.

“Don’t sugarcoat it man, tell me like it is,” I replied, a little perturbed at his lack of faith in me.

“Oh hell man, you know what I meant,” BT said, back peddling.

“Yeah, that he’d kick my ass,” I told him crossly.

“That’s what he said,” Gary clarified.

“I have no beef with you!” Durgan shouted through the door, “But me and Mike have some reckoning to complete.” Durgan sounded like the coward that he was. He would only fight when the odds were clearly stacked in his favor. I was sort of surprised that he would even decide to go one on one. He probably figured that Eliza would have his back if I somehow got the upper hand. Although I doubted first that I would get the upper hand and second that Eliza cared anything about him.

“Did he say reckoning?” BT asked. “What kind of cracker ass speak is that?”

“I will allow it,” Eliza said as if she controlled the entire production, which ultimately she did.

“Okay, so there’s a lot going on right now. What exactly are you allowing?” Mad Jack asked her.

Damn, his balls must be the size of small boulders. His stock just went up in my eyes.

“I will allow Durgan to fight Michael,” Eliza intoned smugly.

BT shrugged his shoulders in frustration.

“Michael, if Durgan kills you,” she started.

“When,” Durgan said interrupting her.

“You do that again, I will rip your throat out,” Eliza told Durgan.

“If Durgan kills you,” she continued disdainfully, “those that you are with give themselves up willingly.” Murmurs of protests arose from the group. I couldn’t blame them.

“I can’t speak for the people around me,” I told her.

“You will allow my zombies onto the roof with you during the fight so that I can be sure YOU hold up your end of the agreement.” “What if I say no?” I asked her.

“I will burn this building and everybody in it, or on it, to the ground.”

“And when I win?” I said running my hand through my now sweating hair.

Durgan snorted in derision.