A Plague Upon Your Family zf-2

by Mark Tufo

  “Carol this isn’t going to be in ones and twos. There’s going to be hundreds.” I added.

  Her countenance shifted subtly but she recovered quickly. “Then they come.” She answered again but with noticeably less vigor.

  “At least think about it Carol. We’re leaving in two days.” That did shake her. I watched as all those years of hard farm work suddenly caught up with her. She gripped the couch arm much like I had earlier this morning. Tracy helped her to sit.

  There was not much said the rest of that afternoon. Mostly idol talk about ‘remember whens’. The past had a much glossier shine now that the future was so tarnished. BT plunged himself into sleep. Most likely in a desperate bid to accelerate his bodies healing capabilities. Tommy stayed on the far end of the room from Justin but I would occasionally catch him staring raptly at him. If Justin knew or cared that he was sometimes Tommy’s center of attention he never let on. Tracy and Carol had left after a while to most likely discuss what they were going to do. I felt it was best not to intervene. Henry was laying by the fire, which coincidentally flared up every few minutes or so. Better that whatever noxious gases were spewing from him were consumed in the fire than disseminated out into the rest of the room.

  Jen prowled around the house like a panther, constantly looking out the windows for party crashers. Travis had the air of many a military men I had been exposed to, he was able to pull off the duality of having heightened awareness will looking casually indifferent. I had envied those men and their façade of calm demeanor. Nicole had at some point come down from her room, eyes puffy from crying and into my arms. She had almost instantly fallen asleep, mourning can be an essence draining process. And me? Besides keeping a mental note of where and what everybody else was up to, I stared at the fire. The shifting shapes, patterns and colors helped to ease my troubled mind.

  Jen was right. This was not an easily defendable location. Sure we could see the enemy coming for a quarter of a mile in nearly every direction. Then what? They would have a 360 degree angle of attack. We were vulnerable from all sides. The two largest egresses were the front door off the hallway and the back door in the kitchen. There were at least 12 windows on the lower level that were big enough for an intruder to gain entry. This was a nightmare. I knew without asking that there was no way Carol was going to let me shore up our meager defenses. I’d never be able to pull off cutting her staircase up. Tracy would kill me. The more I thought about it the more I concluded that our best defense was to not have one. We had to get gone.

  I now regretted my decision to tell Justin about my amended plans. Whatever Eliza had originally planned she was surely making her own adjustments. I could only hope that she wasn’t in a position to move too quickly. I would have left that same evening if BT had been in a better place. I could leave him with Carol. That stray thought came out of left field and was quickly denounced otherwise I’d have Eliza and BT hunting us down.

  I alternated constantly that day about the silence in the house. On one side it felt like the calm before the storm. On the other was the peace and harmony with the world that living on a farm can bring to ones soul, although I knew the falsity of that fantasy. I guess I was in a sort if self-induced trance as I watched that fire. So much so that my eyes began to itch from lack of blinking.

  “Miss me?” I heard a male voice say, almost as if we were using cans and string and he was about a mile away. It was that indistinct.

  I didn’t ‘speak’ these words but for ease of following the conversation I will make it appear that way.

  “Who are you?” I asked. I tried my best to hide the tide of unease that was rising within me.

  “Oh me and you go way back.” And the disembodied voice began to laugh.

  I had finally cracked up. I mean I always knew this was an eventuality. Years of upbringing from a narcissistic mother, the intake of multiple drugs, including every hallucinogen known to man, Marine Corps boot camp and a subsequent tour of duty in Afghanistan, had left me vulnerable. Throw a zombie apocalypse on top of that and what do you have? Aberration Apple Pie. I had finally succumbed. I had slipped over the edge. The question now was how far was I going to fall? Was this to be a free fall into a bottomless pit or was it going to be a slow steady descent into insanity? If it was the slow descent, I could watch and take notes of each agonizingly hideous step down the path into Crazy Town. I was not strong enough to handle a duality within me. Hell Tracy could barely handle one of me, what was she going to think of this new development?

  “You still there, shithead?” My other half asked.

  Oh great, not only am I delusional but my other half is a rude prick. Wonderful.

  “I’m talking to you!” It shouted. The voice was gaining clarity, as if the person on the other end was getting stronger or closer, or both.

  “Dad!”

  Oh no! It thinks I’m its father!

  “Dad! You’re pulling my hair!”

  And like that, the hold over me was gone. Now if I could just untangle the grip of Nicole’s hair I had in my fist, I’d be all set.

  “Sorry honey, sorry.” I said as inadvertently pulled some of her hair out. “Sorry.”

  “It’s alright Dad.” She said as she sat up and rubbed her head. “Were you dreaming?”

  “God I hope so.” I said earnestly.

  Tommy was looking over at me.

  “Was I dreaming?” I asked him. He shrugged in return. Justin was no longer in the room. The fire flared a violent purple and then went back to its normal hues of orange and yellow. What the hell could Henry have aired out that would do that? Whatever it was, it must have been rancid. Even he couldn’t take it as he stood up and walked a few feet away from the offending zone and plopped back down contentedly.

  BT managed to eat some dinner before he returned back into his self-induced coma. Jen could barely contain herself at the table, if I hadn’t known better I might have thought she had a serious case of crabs. She was more like an animal that could feel the change in the air, way before their ‘superior’ human masters could. A storm was brewing and not of the atmospheric kind either.

  I was feeling loosely detached tonight, whether from my earlier encounter with my bad half or I was picking up on whatever wavelength Jen was. Carol, however, was whistling in merriment as she placed dish upon dish of good old country cooking on the table.

  I was going to say something about last meals and all but that seemed in very poor taste. Even if it was to be, what was the point in pointing it out? Tracy barely picked at her food. Apparently her mother had made it abundantly clear on what she was doing, and that involved not going with us. If we got out of here soon enough, that was the best decision she could have made. Being on the run is hard on the young and the hale, something even I wasn’t feeling much of these past few days as I absently rubbed my knee.

  “I’m thinking of growing some jalapeno peppers this year.” Carol said as she dropped off a tray of what looked like mashed sweet potatoes. “I’ve never grown those before, they’ve got so much more flavor than the bell peppers I usually grow.”

  “Mom, are you sure?” Tracy asked.

  “Of course Tracy, I bought the seeds last year for just that purpose.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  Carol smiled and dropped off a plate stacked with sweet half ears of corn. I smiled too as I grabbed an ear and smeared two liberal pats of butter on it. Okay so Bessie had her pluses besides being a walking t-bone. Two days on a farm on a steady diet of meat and cream and I could already start to feel my body filling out. In three months I’d be one of those monstrosities they used to show on TruTv, 500 pounds and expanding.

  “Carol sit down and eat.” I told her as I took another bite of wonderful fulfillment.

  Henry had fallen asleep under the table waiting for something to find its way onto his domain, the floor. For some reason he had decided to use my feet as a headrest and his drool had soaked through my socks. When he finally picked his
head up, I was relieved. When he barked I was concerned. No one moved except for Carol who laid another plate of what looked like cranberries on the table. It was difficult for me to tell though, all the cranberries I had ever bought were of the cylindrically shaped kind and usually had to be sliced with a knife. It went death quiet awfully quick. My glass of water, as it struck the top of the saltshaker, was the loudest thing in the room. Nothing or nobody else moved. Henry stood up, I could almost feel him bristling as he growled.

  “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him growl.” Jen said as she pushed her chair back stood up and took out her .45 Desert Eagle from her shoulder holster.

  We all stood when the bell rang, but not the zombie alarm, the actual doorbell.

  “Well I’ll be.” Carol said. “Who could that be?” She asked as she began to head out of the kitchen.

  I quickly stood and got past her. “I’ll check.” I grabbed my AR, that was propped against the kitchen wall. Travis stood grabbed his shotgun and without any prompting from me stood watch over the back door. Jen was half an inch from me as I took the safety off my gun. I slowly approached the door figuring that at any moment it was about to crash violently inward followed by every unfathomable, unimaginable, inexplicable horror known to man and womankind. I wished I had thought to put my shoes on before I opened the door. Scrambling for my life in traction-less socks on a highly polished wooden floor was not an optimum way of meeting my maker.

  I would have taken the extra thirty or so seconds to do just that but the doorbell ringing had progressed to violent door knocking. Alright, so much for the theory of a wayward Robin flying straight into the doorbell mechanism.

  “Well hurry up now.” Carol called out from the kitchen. “Whoever’s out there is probably freezing to death.”

  “That’s just fine with me.” I said softly.

  Jen agreed.

  BT about made me piss my pants as he appeared on my right side at the opening to the living room.

  “Why you creeping around all stealth like?” BT asked. The door shuddered. “Oh.” BT hobbled back into the living room and grabbed his new gun of a choice, a semi automatic Browning 30.06 with a banana clip. I wouldn’t have even thought they made such a thing if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I couldn’t even begin to imagine repeatedly pulling the trigger on such a powerful weapon. In my present state of footwear the recoil would send me shooting across the floor ala Risky Business.

  BT was all seriousness when he asked me. “What the hell are you smiling about.”

  “You’re no Rebecca DeMornay.”

  “Yeah and you don’t much look like Halle Berry.” He retorted. “If anything happens Talbot, you and Jen get the hell out of there, I’ll cover your retreat.”

  “Dad!” Travis yelled. “I’ve got movement back here!”

  “Shit.” I was stuck in indecision. The opaque glass on the front door rattled under the newest assault. I could barely make out a figure standing on the other side. Would Carol be pissed if I shot first and then opened the door? Jen’s Desert Eagle hung precariously over my shoulder, the breach inches from my ear. “Umm any chance you could move that away a little?”

  “Sorry.”

  The gun went from two inches away to four inches. Somehow I didn’t think that was going to make much difference except give the drum splitting noise a little more time to gain momentum as it slammed into my ear canal. Great, maybe the force of the explosion by my head would drive out the evil spirit that lurked within.

  “Carol?” The muffled voice said from the other side of the doorway. “You in there?”

  “Oh for goodness sake.” Carol said exasperatedly as she pushed past Jen’s and my wide-eyed expressions. “This isn’t very neighborly behavior, you two.” She berated us as she went by.

  I reached out to stop her but could not gain enough traction to do so. Once the door was open the assault would begin and Carol would be directly in our line of fire. Valuable seconds would be lost getting her out of the way, neutralizing the threat, and getting the door secured again. The door opened. A purplish faced man stood their dancing around on his toes, his similarly toned companion, probably his wife, was huddled behind him.

  CHAPTER 24

  “Fred, Esther? What are you two doing out here? Come in, come in.” Carol motioned.

  Fred took one look down the hallway at the arsenal confronting him.

  “You sure?” He turned to Carol.

  “Oh that’s my son in law and his friends.” She answered as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

  “Carol?” I asked.

  “It’s fine Mike. These are my neighbors from up the road, Fred and Esther Spretzen.” She answered me. “Where are the kids?” Carol asked with concern.

  ‘Jack and Jill’ as I was to later learn their names had gained entry through the back door. Travis had let them in at almost the same time as Carol had opened the front door. His explanation was that zombies didn’t seem much phased about the weather and the two kids were huddling together for warmth. As for the Jack and Jill thing, don’t ask me. Some parents have a weird sense of humor when it comes to naming their kids. Just ask the poor bastard whose name was Orangejello. He’ll tell you it’s no bargain being named after you mom’s favorite food. Well at least it wasn’t Meatloaf, although that had been done before too.

  Carol ushered Fred and Esther into the living room and as close to the fire as was humanly possible before becoming a s’more. It was humorous watching Fred’s reaction as he tried to give BT as big a berth as was possible in that confined space. Odds were that Fred wasn’t much exposed to men of BT’s color much less that imposing of a size. Travis brought in the two kids, twins by the look and size of them. They couldn’t have been much more than 8 years old. I didn’t envy them the world they were about to inherit. Henry followed closely behind having learned that children of this age tend to drop more food than they eat.

  The vacancy in their eyes was not lost on me as they sat by the fire, finally realizing that they were for the moment at least, safe. Fred was the first to break the silence.

  “I…I went out to see what had the horses all in an uproar.” He choked on a sob as Esther rubbed his back. “They were kicking and whinnying something fierce. The last time they had been that upset a pack of coyotes had circled the barn and were digging around the frame looking for a way in.”

  “No coyotes out in this weather though.” Carol finished for him.

  He looked up at her with his red-rimmed eyes. “No, not coyotes. The barn door was broken open. I had my scattergun ready to shoot and when I got to the first stall it was full of them. They had dragged my plow horse down and were devouring him. He was still alive!” His voice rising. “The look of terror in his eyes is something I’ll never forget. He was frothing blood and kicking. I couldn’t do anything but stare at him.” He sobbed a bit. Esther kept up her calming ministrations on his back. “And then one of them must have noticed me cuz, it got up. I mean it got up fast. Faster than I’d seen any of them move. If it wasn’t for pieces of my horse Hank, hanging out of his mouth I might have thought he was human. Damn he still might have been, never thought to ask. But he killed my Hank so I figured I had every right to do the same to him. No matter how hungry he was.”

  “It’s alright Fred.” Carol told him. “You did the right thing.”

  He looked grateful. “I was gonna run for it but he was on me so fast I barely had enough time to pull the trigger. Caught him in the side, I watched as pieces of his mid-section blew against the wall. He didn’t even care. He kept coming. I must have lowered the gun a bit cause my next shot caught him square in the knee. I don’t think he cared much about that shot either but it brought him to the floor. His friends never even looked up. Hank had finally quit kicking. I was out of bullets and I had three more horses. Even if I got more ammo I’d never be able to load it fast enough to kill them all ‘fore they got to me. Now I love them horses like only a farmer can,
but after God my family comes next.”

  Esther placed her head on Fred’s shoulder.

  “There was so many of them, I knew I’d never be able to keep them out of the house. So I loaded up the truck and was planning on heading down to my cousin’s in Bismarck.”

  That was the first thing he’d said that I hadn’t agreed with. A city even of the relatively small size of Bismarck was the last place you wanted to be.

  “We got eight miles from the house when I realized I had drained all the gas out to keep the generator running.”

  Carol gasped. “You walked for five miles in this cold! Oh heavens!”

  “Thirteen miles away and they’re your neighbors?” I asked incredulously.

  “Exactly how many of them were there Fred?” Jen asked.

  Fred was busy staring vacantly into the fire. Slow seconds passed before he answered. “Must of been seven or eight crammed in there.” He shuddered.

  BT had at some point slumped back down onto his couch. He looked like he was fighting a losing battle with consciousness. Logistically the Spretzen’s had just fucked me. We had no room for four more people no matter how you sliced it. Even if I could somehow convince myself that MY family’s survival was more important than theirs, Tracy would never let me.

  “Here we stand.” I said. “Or here we fall.”

  Now that Carol’s options were reduced to one, she didn’t seem so enamored with it.

  Jen knew immediately what was going on. “How much time you think we have to get ready?” She asked me.

  “I’d say until tomorrow night.” I replied looking at Justin, he nodded sadly in confirmation.

  “Any ideas?” She asked.

  “One to start with.” I pointed my gun at Justin. “Give me your weapon.”

  “Dad?” Nicole yelled.

  “Talbot!” Tracy joined in.

  “My heavens.” Came from Esther. Can’t remember the last time I heard that expletive.

  “I can help Dad.” Justin said.

  “I wish I could believe that son, I really do. But for now I don’t, give me the gun or I will shoot you.” I said it without malice or menace but no truer intent to my words had Justin ever encountered. Sure there were the thousand times I had told him while he was growing up that if he ever did THAT again he would get a whipping. Empty threats those had been, this was not one of them.