Zombie Fallout 4: The End Has Come and Gone

by Mark Tufo

Erin was walking down the aisle way when Paul stood. “Hi baby,” she told her husband, glad to see that he was safe. “Marta woke up for a second,” she told Alex. He turned to see if it should be anything to be concerned about. “Now this may sound weird, but I'm only repeating what she said.” Paul and Alex looked expectantly at her. “All right here goes. ‘Dad wasn't sure if Paul is still with you guys, but if he is, ask him what he thought of Pete Townsend's piss.'"

  Paul damn near choked on his laughter. “Mike's alive!" he said, pumping his fist in the air.

  "How… how do you know?" Alex asked, not quite yet willing to grab onto the thread of promise.

  "Inside joke,” Paul said beaming.

  "Referring to…?" Erin asked.

  "Uh,” he stalled, “College, window pane… acid," he coughed out. “A case of beer and some unbelievable amounts of laughter.” "That doesn't really explain the reference to the Who's lead guitarist’s urine,” Erin said quizzically.

  "Didn't you catch the part about the acid?" Paul said, still smiling.

  "Fine,” Erin said, "but some day you are going to fill me in.” "And this isn’t a trick?" Alex asked.

  "No way,” Paul said, “There's no way Mike told any of his kids about that night.”

  "Please, just tell me that it had nothing to do with that man's piss,” Alex fairly begged.

  Paul started laughing again. “No, no, nothing like that… well kind of… but not what you’re thinking. We were talking about Pete Townsend and how he probably had fans who worshipped his piss.” Alex had a blank stare, but Erin walked away. She decided she'd heard enough. “Trust me,” Paul said slapping his friend on the shoulder, “It's hilarious when you’re tripping your trees off.” "I'll take your word for it,” Alex said, “So we're staying then?"

  "I guess for now, this place is a little bigger than I'd like it to be, but as far as defending against zombies our only real concern would be the front door. We picked up some canned goods while we were out, so food will be a non-issue for a few days. What the hell, I say we hunker down for a bit, recharge our batteries, and let Wonder Boy over there finish up his zombie stopper,” Paul finished off by pointing over towards MJ.

  "Will she let him?" Alex indicated April, who was nearly tripping over her tongue as she hovered around MJ.

  "It's kind of funny the 180 he's done since he first laid eyes on her. The more she talks the less interested he becomes. April has yet to figure that equation out. She rambles on like a meth-head at a rave. All that beauty and not an iota of brain to go with it,” Paul laughed.

  "Meth-head at a rave? That gives me a headache just thinking about it. I like the idea of resting for a few days. I don’t, however, like the idea of my wife being the human equivalent of a cell phone. And I'm having a hard time reconciling how close in proximity Tomas' message was to Justin's.” "It does make for some interesting pondering, I'll give you that. But I'm telling you Mike would no sooner tell his kids about his drug experiences than he would tell his wife about his sexual exploits.” "Oooh, I get your point.” Alex cringed just thinking about how that conversation would go do with his own betrothed. He inadvertently covered his testicles.

  "Yeah, pretty much just like that,” Paul said, catching the involuntary motion.

  "We wait then.” Alex rose from his chair and headed back down the aisle to where his wife was resting.

  Paul headed back to the front doors. “I'll keep a watch out,” he told Joann, who was all too happy to let him.

  "Storm's brewing.” She pointed up to the blackening shroud of clouds.

  "Sure is,” he told her. ‘And I don't think it’s the only one,’ he thought. ‘Hurry up Mike.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE – Talbot Journal Entry 10

  I drove most of that day alternating between looking at the road and readjusting my rear view mirror to keep an eye on Justin. This was a dangerous game we played with a lethal enemy; it was the equivalent of playing with a Black Mamba and seeing if we could inject the anti-venom before the neurotoxin had an opportunity to stop the beating heart. Justin noticed me looking on occasion when he wasn't resting. I saw no sign of the duality from before the shots, but he still did not look well. The expense of that call might not have been worth it, even AT&T in their heyday didn't charge that much.

  "I'll be fine, Dad,” Justin said as he smiled weakly. “And stop looking at me, you’re kind of giving me the creeps.” "All right, but you let me know if you need anything,” I told him as I adjusted the mirror back to its intended view of the road behind me.

  "Who is Easter Evans?" Travis asked.

  "What?" I asked him back.

  "The sign right there says welcome to Virginia, home of Easter Evans,” he clarified.

  We almost passed it by, it was your standard State sign, but painted very neatly below it was ‘Home of Easter Evans.’ This wasn't your standard issue graffiti, someone had taken painstaking detail to make this look as professional as possible, and I didn’t like it. Anyone that thought themselves important enough to make sure everyone knew about them was not anyone I wanted to know.

  "I don’t like it Mike,” Gary said.

  "It's just a sign,” I said, half convincingly.

  "Yeah, so is that.” He pointed to a much different ‘sign’ a few hundred feet further down the road. Hanging from a highway exit sign were the bodies of three people.

  "What does that sign say?" I asked, squinting my eyes to try and get a better look. I knew it wasn't going to be anything good. I mean it wasn't going to say, ‘These were very bad people that did very bad things.’

  Gary pulled out a small pair of binoculars. “Sinners, it says sinners.” Well, maybe I was wrong. It actually did kind of say what I thought it might. Now the question was what kind of sins did Easter Evans think were hanging offenses. You would have to step very far out of bounds with me to get that type of response, but who knows if Easter might be of the ilk that thought chewing gum was a hanging offense.

  "I think I would like to go around Virginia ,” Gary said conversationally as he put the binoculars back in their case.

  "Great idea, can't afford the time delay though,” I told him.

  "Figured you'd say that,” as he put his seatbelt on.

  Travis took the lead from his uncle and did the same.

  "Could you get Justin's?" I asked Travis as I strapped myself in.

  "Kind of like a Bible Belt.” Gary tugged on his harness to make sure it was secure.

  I drove slowly as we approached the bodies hanging above us. I hoped that they were zombies, that would almost make sense. Not that the zombies cared, it wouldn't be much of a deterrent for them but it would somehow still make sense. I stopped the truck within a few feet of the swaying dead people, one of which looked like a woman, or was merely a victim of crows dining on its tenderloins. I walked completely around looking for head wounds.

  The bodies were bloated and blackened from exposure to the elements but they were still intact enough to tell that there were no gunshots to any of these poor souls’ heads.

  "Mike, any reason why you wanted to stop? This isn't really a photo-op,” Gary stated nervously.

  "Was trying to see if they were zombies or not.”

  "And?"

  "Not so much.”

  "Even more reason that we should probably get going.”

  "My sentiments exactly,” I told my brother.

  "Still planning on going through Virginia?" he asked.

  I didn’t answer him as I put the truck in drive.

  It wasn't five minutes later that we became the victims of a rolling blockade. Cars, trucks, vans and SUV's poured in from the off ramps on our right and left. Trucks that were bigger and cars that were faster, and all of them were packed with Easter's true believers. Apparently Easter thought very well of arming his flock so when the first car pulled up alongside and a mutton chopped man pointed to the side of the road, I saw no way out that didn’t involve a lot of carnage, a great amount which would oc
cur in our truck.

  "Turn the truck off,” came Mutton's voice as he pulled alongside. “If you could be so kind as to hand the keys to Brother Wilkinson, I would greatly appreciate it.” "Well he sure sounds nice,” Gary said. “I'm thinking West Virginia would have been a lot better state to go through though.” "I think I would have to agree with you,” I said as I handed over to the keys to the guy who I could only assume was Brother Wilkinson. A small platoon of cars and trucks completely encircled us. The scene in the Godfather with Sonny at the toll booth was going through my head. I could only hope that these people had good aim. I didn’t want to dance around like a marionette as I was riddled with bullets.

  "Now friend,” Mutton started up again. “I would like for you to put all of your weapons outside of your truck.” Gary was imperceptibly shaking his head in the negative. “I'd rather go out like the Bon Jovi song.” I looked at him questioningly then asked, “What? ‘Livin’ on a Prayer?’"

  "No dumbass, ‘In a Blaze of Glory.’”

  "Great.”

  "Dad, what are we gonna do?" Travis asked, not nervously, but if we were going to start shooting it needed to be sooner rather than later.

  The people outside were starting to tense up also. If anything was going to happen it was within these next few crucial seconds. I took a second to look at Justin's peaceful sleeping face, at Travis, and then my brother. “Not this time guys.” "You sure you know what you’re doing Mike?" Gary asked me with a false smile on for our onlookers.

  "Of course not,” I told him softly. I opened my door slowly; fingers on triggers applied an ounce more of pressure. “Nobody get happy fingers on us, I'm putting our guns outside.” "Hold,” Mutton said through a strained smile.

  Within another minute the four of us were up against the car and getting a more thorough pat down. I felt it was good news that they hadn’t just opened fire.

  "All clear, Father Easter,” Mutton said as we were allowed to turn from our ‘assume the position’ stance.

  A stately man of about 60 came out from one of the cars in the back; it looked like a Caddy but I didn’t have the best angle. He was dressed all in black with a hat which was in direct contrast to his shock of white hair and beard. He looked like any pastor might down in the South, almost affable, but his eyes belied him. His true nature he could not hide, his eyes burned with what? Insanity? Rage? Tyranny? All of the above?

  "Good day citizens,” he said politely as he approached. “What kind of man be ye?" He asked Gary .

  "I'm not sure of the answer, sir,” Gary told him honestly.

  "Well!" Easter boomed. “Do you walk in the light of the Lord or do you not!"

  "I would like to think I walk in the light,” Gary told him.

  Gary tensed as Easter placed his hand on Gary 's chest. I didn't know what was happening but I didn't friggen’ like it.

  "Pious!" Easter shouted.

  "Praise be to God!" His followers shouted.

  He next touched Travis and repeated the same word, followed immediately by the chorus.

  "And you?" he said as he got so close I could smell his tobacco laced breath.

  "I have strayed from the path on occasion, but only to see what lay in the shade. Always was I within the reach of the light.” "Praise be to God brother, it is better to have lost one's way and found the path back to righteousness. It shows true character.” Easter placed his hand on my chest. I felt damn near the same sensation when I first picked up Eliza's locket. A small current of energy coursed through me. His hand stayed there moments longer than it had on Gary and Travis combined. He looked me in the eyes before he spoke. “I see that you walk with one foot in the light and one foot in the dark, Mr. Talbot.” "How do you know my name?"

  "Be quiet son. I am divining your nature. You have a darkness in you that you have warred with valiantly to keep at bay. I think that someday you will lose this battle, but for now, I will grant you the chance to keep fighting. Pious!" he shouted.

  "Praise be to God,” rang out around us.

  "Can we go now?" I asked Easter.

  "Perhaps,” he said, eyeing Justin suspiciously, “The boy is not well?" It was phrased as a question but the answer was evident.

  Justin nearly fell backwards as did Easter when the divining touch was made.

  "Seize them!" Easter said as he struggled to get his breath. “This one is marked!" Mutton and two other men closed in.

  "Wait, please!" I shouted before the situation spiraled even further downhill. “He's my son, he needs help.” "Nothing that a short rope on a tall tree won’t cure,” Brother Wilkinson sneered.

  "Easter, he's just a boy,” I pleaded.

  He had not yet fully recovered from his encounter. “And yet he is stained deeply. He cannot continue to exist. He is an abomination!"

  "You yourself just called the three of us pious men. Would we so willingly align with the darkness?"

  "Evil can take on a great many forms. Most cannot see it until it is too late and it has led us very far from our path. It can bring even the mightiest among us to our knees.” A bunch of “Amens” and “Hallejulahs” rang out.

  "What if we,” I said, pointing to Gary, Travis and myself, “as men of righteousness, what if we are using the evil within him...” Justin's face sagged, I felt sorry for bruising his feelings but our literal necks were on the line. “…to serve a higher purpose.” I don’t think we had won anyone over, but Easter was at least pondering my suggestion.

  "You three may go forward,” Easter said, "and I will attempt to exorcize the demons from the boy. If I can, he will be allowed to live among us until you return or he wishes to go after you.” "And if that doesn’t work?"

  "He swings,” Easter answered bluntly.

  "What if we don’t go?" Travis asked. “He's my brother.”

  "You will all suffer the same fate as Eliza's pet,” Easter said, motioning to Mutton to round us up.

  "Then just leaving is out of the question?" I tried one more time.

  "I would no sooner let loose a scorpion in a baby's crib and hope it did not strike,” Easter said over his shoulder as he walked away.

  "That’s a ‘no’ then?" I asked. Mutton smacked me upside the head.

  "Should have left when you had the chance, veil walker. I've never seen Easter give anyone the chance to go with a taint of darkness in them.” He shoved me forward but not menacingly.

  "Well that's me, always the uninvited guest, first to come, last to leave.”

  "Boy, are you sure that you’re right in the head?" Mutton asked.

  "He's my brother,” Gary said. “He's always been a little like this.” Travis nodded in agreement.

  Mutton looked us over. “Really wish you three hadn’t come this way,” he said, not including Justin who was now being led in a different direction. “He’ll be fine for now, Easter will do what he promised, but after…"

  He let it lie.

  We were driven back down the off ramp and within a few minutes we came to a stone building structure with a large ornate sign that read ‘Robert E. Lee Middle School .’ I looked over at Mutton.

  He shrugged, "It's our town hall slash prison slash housing. It's easily defendable, all of the windows have metal grating over them.” I understood defendable. We were led up the two first floors. We passed the gamut of human suffering, from hollow eyed victims to the sunken defeated. This was the last harbor in which their drowned souls could seek refuge. Some would recover, some would fade away. Mutton opened a locked door which led us up a small set of wooden steps. At the top was another door and I didn’t need the sign to realize this was the supply closet, it smelled of bleach and mimeograph solution. It was a very nostalgic smell and it instantly brought me back to my grade school days when the biggest drama of the day was when Billy Allen stole my lunch dessert. I should have kicked his ass.

  "Go on up now,” Mutton motioned. “Don’t cause any trouble and none will be brought to you.” "Mutton…” I started. “Umm…?"
/>
  "The name is Talisker,” Mutton/Talisker said.

  "Talisker, who is Easter Evans?" I asked. I truly expected to hear how the man was the second coming of Christ himself wrapped around a crap load of Praise Be to Jesus and maybe a Can I Get a Witness, with a side dose of some serious pontification.

  "He used to work within these walls,” He answered me. “Before the wrath of God was unleashed.” I could understand a principal taking charge in a moment of crisis, it was almost a natural progression in lieu of any other formal type of government.

  "He was the janitor,” Talisker finished up, completely shattering my thought process. The look on my face must have been amusing, “Yup, that's pretty much what we thought at first. But the man had an uncanny ability to organize us when everything was falling apart.” I momentarily thought of Jed. Would I even be here now if it wasn't for that man?

  "Easter fought house to house to gather the pious,” Talisker continued. “My first words to the crazy old man covered in blood on my doorstep were ‘Fuck Off.’ He smiled and told me that he thought I'd say that. Then he placed his hand on my chest and my doubt and worries disappeared. I grabbed my wife and kid and we've been here ever since. My house burned down that night. If not for Easter, my family would be dead,” The stoic Talisker looked away for a second as he composed himself, “Seventy-seven houses we fought our way to before the zombies got so thick I swear we could have stepped on their heads to get back here. I won’t say that the zombies made a path when Easter Evans walked towards them, but it seems to me that they really wanted to be somewhere else when he was around. Unfortunately, his influence only spread so far and the rest of us had to fight our way back. Some fell, most lived. None of us would have made it though if not for Easter. He's a good man that just might have been elevated to greatness due to the end of times.” "What of the three people we came across that were swinging from a highway sign?" I asked Talisker, looking for some sort of weakness in the armor he had placed protectively around Easter's character.

  "The Bowdoin brothers, always were petty thieves. Mostly shoplifting and vandalism. I believe that one of them did time for stealing a car, nothing overly serious though.” "Did they not fit into Easter's view of a Utopian society?"