by Mark Tufo
“That standard issue?” Paul asked skeptically.
After another ten seconds of fiddling with the device, Mad Jack stood up with a satisfactory ‘Aha’ sound.
“Is it open or not?” Mrs. Deneaux asked. “Do you need all the theatrics?”
“Oh, put a sock in it,” Joann told Mrs. Deneaux as she pulled the door open.
“Hold on!” Alex told her. “We don’t know what it’s like in there.”
“It’s a furniture store. And an inexpensive one at that. So unless zombies have started eating vinyl we should be fine,” Mrs. Deneaux said, although she did not volunteer to go in first.
Joann’s initial haste to get indoors was quelled at the idea that the dark store could be hiding a variety of nightmares.
“We should be safe,” Paul stated. “No food means no people, no people…”
“No zombies,” Little Eddy finished the sentence.
“You got it,” Mad Jack said, pulling a flashlight off the utility belt he was wearing and heading into the murkiness.
The majority of the group huddled behind that one light as they checked furniture display after furniture display looking for anyone or more importantly anything that didn’t belong. The only notable exceptions were Joann and April who were standing guard by the front doors and Mrs. Deneaux who had found a Lazy Boy Recliner and had fallen fast asleep.
It took over an hour to go through the entire showroom floor, the loading bays and the offices, but it was well worth it. There were four fully stocked vending machines with all sorts of snacks from nuts to licorice. Eddy was at first ecstatic to come across an ice cream machine and then severely depressed when he realized he was standing sneaker sole deep in the melted treats.
“Do you think anything’s still in there?” Eddy asked Erin.
“Oh honey, I don’t think so,” she told him and then hugged him before he started to cry again, something he had been doing a lot of since his mother had executed his family and then turned the gun on herself.
“You going to use your fancy lock picking device on this?” Paul asked, pointing to the vending machine.
“Step aside,” Mad Jack told him. The loud splintering crash as he threw a display vase through the glass awoke the slumbering Deneaux.
“What the hell is going on in there!” she yelled from across the floor.
“Everyone’s fine!” Paul yelled. “You old bat,” he said much more softly.
Mad Jack giggled like a schoolgirl. “She really is, isn’t she?” he said, stating a fact more than formulating a question.
“See,” Paul started. “Mrs. Deneaux is proof to me that God has one hell of a sense of humor. End of the world, and the crankiest 75 year old bitch that can’t shoot, can’t run, can’t fight, couldn’t make a friend in a whorehouse on payday and she survives. Armies of the finest men and women on this planet have been ground to dust and yet that cantankerous hag still mouths on.”
“Don’t hold back Paul. Tell us how you really feel,” Alex said, coming up to pat his friend on the shoulder.
“She just gets under my skin.” Paul shook his head.
“Like a rash?” Eddy asked.
“A lot like that,” Paul laughed. “Come on kid, grab the stuff you like the most,” he said as he lifted Eddy up to a bird’s eye view of the treats in front of him.
“I think we’re safe for the time being,” Mad Jack stated. “I’m going to lock the front doors, unless anyone has an objection to that.” He waited for a few beats before heading off.
Alex cleaned up some of the stray glass around the machine and started surveying what his kids might want and that might be somewhat healthy, not an easy task when dealing with vending machine food.
“Alex, can you hold the baby, I’m not feeling so well,” Alex’s wife Marta asked.
Alex was midway between deciding on licorice or peanuts when he turned to honor his wife’s request.
“Marta, what’s wrong?” Alex asked in alarm. The lighting was not good but it could not hide the fact that his wife was as pale as a cold winter moon. Black crescents ringed the bottom of her eyes, and her eyes themselves were as dark as craters.
“Mi Dios!” Alex exclaimed as he grabbed the baby and almost simultaneously his wife as she very nearly collapsed.
Erin quickly took the baby as Alex eased his wife to the floor. “Marta, what’s the matter?” Alex fairly cried. Marta did not look well and the transformation from bad to worse was happening right before their very eyes. Paul was watching it too, he thought it looked like those time lapsed photographs they sometimes showed for some special effects make-up make-over. This was much scarier than watching Lon Chaney become a werewolf, this was real.
“Alex, let’s get her to a bed,” Paul said.
Alex looked up and nodded, then picked his wife up in his arms. “You’re so cold, Marta. Talk to me mi amor.”
“It’s in my head,” she whispered in his ear.
A spike of iciness plunged down the middle of his back. “Who’s in your head Marta? Eliza?”
She shook violently, with a force that almost caused Alex to drop her. “Much worse, it’s Tommy!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN – Tracy’s Car
“That guy was huge!” Dizz was telling Sty, as if Sty hadn’t been there to witness it himself. “His bicep was bigger than my thigh,” Dizz added with amazement, as he sized himself up.
“Yeah, like that’s hard to do? Mrs. T’s arms are probably bigger than your spindly legs.”
Tracy and Dizz simultaneously yelled out, “Hey!”
“I meant no disrespect to you Mrs. T,” Sty added slyly, leaving Dizz out of the response.
“Hey pretty lady we should have taken the doggie,” Angel said to Tracy. “I would have been able to hold him in my lap.”
Tracy looked over to the small girl. “Honey, I think he’s bigger than you. You would have had to sit in his lap.”
“Dogs have laps?” Angel asked in wonderment.
“It’s a figure of speech,” Ryan said from the back seat.
“I’ve got your finger of speech right here!” Sty said, flipping his friend off.
“Oh, I’m telling!” Angel said, catching a glimpse of the ‘dirty finger,’ as her mom used to call it. When she realized there was no one she could tattle to even though she was only playing, she started to go back down the path of sadness.
Tracy watched the girl’s head bow. “Plus it wouldn’t have been safe to bring Henry in this car,” Tracy told her.
“Why, is he mean?” Angel asked. “Does he have big teeth?”
“No, way worse.”
“Way worse?” Dizz asked with concern. “Does he have rabies or something?”
Tracy shook her head in the negative.
“Come on Mrs. T, what gives, does he turn into a werewolf or something?” Sty asked, getting sucked in.
Angel sat up straighter so that she could look through the windshield at the car they were following. Henry was seemingly staring straight back at them. Angel ducked down under the dash to be out of his line of sight. “I think he knows we’re talking about him,” she whispered to Tracy.
All three boys followed Angel’s lead and peered into the lead truck. “Does he know?” Dizz asked, getting himself a little spooked.
Tracy was a moment away from dismissing the thought, but the more she looked at Henry the more she thought that maybe on some level he did know.
“Is that why he’s dangerous?” Angel asked. “Because he can read thoughts? If I think of dog biscuits will he like me?” Angel scrunched up her face. Tracy imagined that she was thinking hard about dog cookies.
“Henry’s dangerous because of his farts!” Tracy said, emphasizing the last word.
Angel’s deep thought lapsed as she started to laugh out loud. The desired effect Tracy was shooting for was met.
“Really?” Dizz asked. “Because right now he looks mad,” he added, pointing to the back of the truck.
Of course the
y couldn’t hear him but Henry was barking up a storm. Tracy was left to wonder if maybe the dog had another trick or two up his sleeve.
* * *
Meredith’s Car
“We really should have made Henry ride in Tracy’s car,” BT lamented as he pulled his shirt over his face. “You should call your dad and let him know we’re coming back.”
“You do realize I’m driving, right?” Meredith told him through clenched teeth, hoping that she would be able to filter some stink that way.
“Fine, but if I pass out from the fumes, it’ll be on you,” BT said, turning around to fumble with the radio.
“I’m willing to take that chance,” Meredith told him.
“Yo, crazy Talbot number one!” BT yelled into the handset.
“Damn! You get any louder and he’ll pick up your echo.”
“Sorry,” BT said sheepishly.
“BT? This is Ron, you’re early, everything okay?” Ron asked.
“Yeah, Tracy found us out and is bringing some kids back,” BT told him.
“What? Okay BT, let’s start as if I’m not there and I have no idea about what you’re talking about.”
BT spent the next few minutes laying out all that had transpired that day.
“Man, I’m glad you’ve got Henry,” Ron said.
“I’m not,” BT said.
“I’ve been looking for him for hours. Mike would have killed me. How long before you get back here?” Ron asked.
BT turned to Meredith for an answer. “Three hours tops according to your pain-in-the-ass daughter.”
“Yeah, try living with her for the better part of twenty-three years,” Ron voiced.
“Dad?!” Meredith exclaimed.
“Love you honey,” Ron said. “See you guys in a few hours. Out.”
“I think I can come to like that guy,” BT said with a smile on his face as he sat back down. “Wake me when we get there.” He folded his arms and rested his head against the headrest. As his eyes closed he was nearly asleep, Ron’s pain pills taking full effect.
“BT, wake up!” Meredith said, shoving his arm as hard as she could. He barely moved. “BT, get your ass up!” Meredith yelled this time.
“Damn girl, you made good time, we there already?” BT asked as he stretched his arms out.
“Not quite. We’ve only been driving about an hour and a half.”
“Why isn’t the car moving?” BT sat up straight. He followed Meredith’s line of sight. About a quarter of a mile up the roadway was a roadblock.
“It’s cops,” Meredith said.
“Doubtful,” BT finished.
Tracy had pulled up alongside Meredith’s car on BT’s side. She rolled down her window. “What do you guys think?” Tracy asked. Angel was peering over Tracy’s lap to get a better look at the mountain of a man.
“Even if they were cops once, which I’m not inclined to believe, I don’t think that they are out right now ‘to serve and to protect.’”
“Kind of what I thought,” Tracy agreed.
BT thought she looked scared. ‘Makes sense,’ he thought, ‘I am.’
“Any ideas?” Tracy asked hopefully.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Meredith asked.
“I know you didn’t just ask that,” BT said.
“BT, I don’t want to go guns all a blazing with the kids in the car.”
“Hey pretty lady, the policeman turned his lights on,” Angel said, pointing up the road.
“Yeah and the other one is waving for us to come up there,” Meredith noted.
BT turned to the backseat and grabbed a rifle to make sure it was loaded, then turned the radio back on. “Ron, this is BT, over.”
A few moments later a response came forth. “Hi BT this is Mark, did you find my sister yet?” Ron’s youngest asked.
“Not yet buddy, is your dad there?” BT said, looking over his shoulder to see if the police were advancing.
“We had another zombie come up this morning, almost got to the house because Gary wasn’t there to guard anymore,” Mark said.
“Yeah, I heard that before,” BT answered, paying absolutely no attention to Mark. “Hey Mark, I need your dad, it’s pretty important,”
“He’s outside, he’s setting up some fencing.”
“Don’t care kid, GO GET HIM!” BT said with force.
“Ass,” Mark said as he let the mic drop and hit the floor. BT and Meredith jumped from the loud noise in the cab of the car.
“The second cop just got in his car,” Tracy said with alarm.
“Meredith, grab the binoculars and see if there are other people in those cars,” BT told her, clutching the microphone. Any harder and he was going to have a handful of plasticized dust.
It was a stand-off at the moment, Tracy and Meredith’s cars versus the two cop cars.
“Twice in one day, to what do I owe this honor,” a slightly out of breath Ron asked.
“Got some issues Ron. We’re about an hour and a half away from the homestead and we’ve come up on a roadblock.”
“Military?” Ron asked.
“I wish, cops or at least guys pretending to be cops. They have the cars and they have the uniforms but it doesn’t feel right.”
“Dad,” Meredith said loudly. We just got off of 95 at Augusta and we’re on Route 3.”
“I know where you’re at honey. Listen BT, that’s a great place for an ambush, there’s nowhere to turn off. Have they seen you?”
“That would be an affirmative,” BT said.
“Okay, how far away are you from them?”
“Quarter mile tops, and they’ve both entered their cars, so by the time we whip a U-turn and get out of here, they’ll be right on us. And to make it even funner, they look like they’re driving the old school 442 Interceptors, we can’t outrun them,”
“Why would we want to outrun the cops?” Angel asked BT.
“Ryan, get your sister’s seatbelt back on, please,” Tracy requested quietly.
“Come on sis. Sit back down.” Angel fidgeted and squirmed but finally acquiesced to her older brother.
“This is so cool, we’re going to run from the cops,” Sty said with a glint in his eye.
“Shut up you idiot,” Ryan said as he punched his friend in the arm.
“You’re on a straightaway BT, they did it on purpose,” Ron said. “My suggestion is to go straight at them. I’ll get in my truck now and head your way. With the speeds we’re going to be going you only need to hold them off for forty minutes before some help gets there.”
“That might be thirty-nine minutes too late. They’re rolling, Ron.” BT said softly.
“I’m leaving now,” Ron said. “I have a radio in the truck, stay in touch, tell Meredith to stay on Route 3 even when she gets to the Route 1 turn off. Let’s see if we can give these assholes something to think about. Out.”
“You hear that, right?” BT asked Meredith. She nodded. “Glad you came now?”
“Not so much,” Meredith told him honestly.
BT turned to Tracy. Her knuckles were glowing stark white on the steering wheel. “Tracy,” BT said. She turned towards him. “When they get within a hundred feet or so, I’m going to give you the signal to go. Once we get past them, I’m going to have you stay in the lead and Maria Andretti here,” he said tapping Meredith on the shoulder, “is going to stay between you and the cruisers. You got that?” Tracy nodded imperceptibly. “Just stay on Route 3, don’t slow down for anything. If anything happens to us you keep going, you understand? You keep those kids safe.” Tracy’s face nearly matched her knuckles. “This might be nothing,”
“Do you believe that?” Tracy asked BT.
“Not at all,” he answered.
The two cop cars rolled to a halt within a hundred or so yards from Meredith and Tracy. “Citizens. this is Officer Gibson of the Portland Police Department, I am going to need to have all of the occupants of those two cars exit and lay flat down on the pavement,” the
authoritative voice issued forth from the megaphone mounted under the hood.
“I can see the barrels of a couple of rifles in the first car,” Meredith whispered. “It’s like they’re hiding or something.”
“I’m pretty sure they can’t hear you,” BT said. “But on a worse note, only people that are doing something wrong need to hide.”
“Citizens,” Officer Gibson’s voice said again. “Flash your headlights if you heard and understand my instructions.”
Meredith looked over to BT. He nodded. Anything that bought them a few extra moments was fine. She flipped her headlights on, as did Tracy.
The first car crept up another hundred yards. ‘Officer Gibson’ stepped out, the car microphone still in hand. “Red Subaru, I want you and your occupants to exit first. Slowly,” he added.
Tracy looked over to BT. He nodded in the negative.
“NOW!” Officer Gibson shouted through the megaphone.