by Mark Tufo
“But I lead her there. If not for me, there’s a chance that place would still be thriving. How many people lost their lives that day? How many countless others who never had a chance to find that sanctuary? We knew she was following us. Just like Payne is now. I can’t bring another wolf into the hen house. I won’t allow it.”
“What are you saying?”
“We need to stop her, to kill her before we get there, or at least I have to. There’s no other choice.”
“How? How are you going to do that? She told you herself, she can strike whenever she wants to. We have no idea where she’s at or from what direction she’ll come.”
“She said that, but she’s a predator. She’s wary. She’s not going to attack when we’re at our strongest, she’s going to wait. She’ll stalk, maybe pick off some of our weak,” I said, and my thoughts immediately went to Ryan, who was just barely walking now. “She’ll strike when she knows her odds of success are at their highest.” An idea began to percolate in my head. I had to trust Tommy; I would need him in on this one hundred percent. Well, I’d need all of us, actually. How we were going to pull it off with the threat of her watching would be the tricky part, but I was thinking I had the perfect spot to set up an ambush. We could be rid of that threat, at least. There was still Knox, but he was human and insane, the devil we knew. And he wasn’t insane enough to attack a well-armed base. He didn’t have that kind of numbers, and if I could persuade the command at Etna Station to strike him first, he never would.
That night we talked.
“I don’t know,” BT said. “That’s a pretty big detour and we don’t know if she’ll even come out of hiding.”
“He’s right, though,” Tommy said. “What if she pulls something like my sister did? If we can make her believe her success will be quick, thorough, and relatively safely done, she might not be able to help herself.”
“Seems like getting to Etna Station would be enough to stop her–if it’s something she wants to do without risking herself.”
“Double-edged sword,” I said to BT. “If she knows where we’re going, she might get desperate, strike us soon, before we can get to that relative safe haven.”
“You’re overestimating her. She can’t know all that. Tracy?” He pleaded his case to the person who was the best by far at reeling me back when I began to dangle my feet over the edge.
“The large man has merit,” Deneaux said.
“Don’t remember asking you,” I said. She shrugged as she reached into her pocket for the ghost of cigarettes past. “Well. Looks like you’re on the same side as Deneaux; that should tell you something,” I said to BT.
“Don’t attack him,” Lyndsey said.
“Sis, I’m not attacking him. You weren’t there. All those people–they never stood a chance. One pissed-off vampire was able to do that.”
“She had an army,” BT said. “Eliza was a whole shitload smarter than Payne. She knew her limitations and her strengths. She raised an army of the living and the dead to help her do her bidding. I’m sorry, man, but I don’t see Payne being able to pull this off.”
“You saw the zombie horde at Cemetery Hill; you can’t deny that,” I said.
“About that….” He paused looking around the room and lowered his voice. “If they were controlled by her, they were certainly acting strangely. There was enough of them–we would have had a hard time defending the fort. She had us right then if she wanted.”
“What do you mean if? Look. Maybe no one is controlling them. Maybe they are just evolving.” I said.
“I realize you do not wish to hear from me, Michael, but it is December,” Mrs. Deneaux said.
“What’s your point? If you’re hoping I’ll remember to put you on my gift list, you’re tooting the wrong horn.”
“Eloquent, as always,” she said. “My point is, so far we have had an incredible run of luck with the weather being so mild. We are talking about making a pass through the Rockies; what do you propose we do if we should get snowed in by a blizzard?”
“Don’t worry. If I go all Alferd Packer, I’m eating him first.” I thumbed at BT.
“Gee. Thanks, man,” BT said.
“Who’s Alferd Packer?” Meredith asked.
“Colorado pioneer that ate his traveling companions when they got stuck in the mountains,” Jess told her.
“Oh gross,” she said, gagging.
“There are no plows, Michael. It’s December. There is most certainly snow on the roads through the Rockies.”
I knew she was right, which made me want to dig my heels in even more.
“Wait…wait,” BT said. “I’ve seen that look before. If you’re dead set on this shit, ok, bad choice of words–I know a better place, and we don’t have to go so far out of our way.”
“Now you’re agreeing with him?” Lyndsey asked.
“You know this man, right? He’s going to do it anyway; aren’t you.” The last part was not a question.
“She has to be stopped. I can plead ignorance about what Eliza was going to do, that’s fair enough, but it does little to ease my nightmares. I should have known, and knowing that now, how could I ever live with myself if I thought there was even a small chance Payne could do the same thing?”
“Goddammit. I hate when he’s right,” BT said.
“Perhaps we swing up to Washington State and drop off those that cannot fight,” Deneaux said. “Do not look at me that way, Michael. I fully intend on seeing this through. I would think it would ease your mind somewhat if only soldiers were involved in this.”
“Soldiers? What are we talking about?” Winters had come into the room.
Quiet didn’t even begin to convey the noiseless vacuum it had become in there.
“Real smooth; that’s not too suspicious. I already have an inkling of what’s going on, even if I think maybe all of you have lost your minds and this is some sort of collective hallucination.”
“What is it you think you know, my dear?” Deneaux asked.
“That Mike had a run in with what he is saying was a vampire at Gettysburg, and that you’ve had run-ins with vampires before. Sounds like something out of a tv show, and I’m sorry; I respect what you’ve all gone through and what you’ve survived, but I think that maybe the stress is beginning to take its toll.”
I sighed. “Tommy?” I looked over at the boy.
“You sure, Mr. T?”
“He doesn’t believe us and I don’t want him thinking we’re all about to crack.”
“Sure about–” That was all Winters could get out before Tommy covered the distance of the room, appearing before Winters, teeth elongated, eyes red.
“What the fuck?” He stumbled backwards, tripping and knocking over a chair which he then stayed behind. He was looking from the floor up at Tommy then to the rest of us. “What the fuck is he? This some sort of trick?” He was scrambling to get back up, holding his chair like a reluctant circus lion tamer.
“I’m a vampire,” Tommy said, extending his hand to help the man up, even as his fangs receded.
“Bullshit.” Winters said, but refused to reach out to Tommy.
“Do we look like we’re doing parlor tricks, Winters? That we have nothing better to do than scare each other? There’s enough scary shit out there that I would hope we would be able to refrain from dangling fake spiders. Especially with all the guns around,” I said.
BT had gone over to help Winters up. The Marine shrugged him off. “Are…are you all vampires? Did you lure me and Brooke here just so, you know…you could…”
“Eat you?” I said.
“We’re not all vampires,” BT said, ignoring me and attempting to placate Winters, who looked like he was going to bolt from the room. “If we were all vampires and were evil, don’t you think we would have just taken you all back in New Hampshire?”
Winters thought on that, but having everything you think you know turned on its ear, again, takes a minute to go through. “Vampires aren’t real,�
�� he said.
“Yes. Neither are zombies,” Deneaux cackled. “Oh God, I would skin baby animals for a cigarette,” she sighed.
“I figured that would be something you just did for fun,” BT replied quickly.
We fist bumped that one.
“Are any others of you vampires?” he asked.
I thought my heart was going to drop out. No one said anything, but invariably gazes shifted around, some looking at walls, the ceiling, all finally heading in my direction.
“You too?” he asked, picking up on my discomfort.
“Half,” I finally answered. “Enough to be burdened, but not so much that I can’t push the reality of it away.”
Tommy had pulled away and was back at his original spot across the room. Winters realized this wasn’t some huge conspiracy and that if we’d wanted him dead, he would be–a hundred times by now.
“What were you talking about before I came in?” Winters asked more like his normal self, though still suspicious.
Well, I guess you’re in. Going to need your help, anyway,” I said. “We’re trying to set up a trap for the vampire that is following us before we get to Washington State.” I laid out everything we had so far; he offered some suggestions as he moved past what he had just learned about his new group. I don’t know if he’d ever feel safe around us again, and I wondered how this would affect us at Etna Station. If and when he rejoined a unit, I had to think the odds were pretty good he’d give us up, maybe not even on purpose, just talking, as soldiers often do.
It was later that night when I went over to see him; he didn’t seem surprised about it. In fact, it seemed he even knew what I was there for because he spoke first.
“I love the Marine Corps,” he said. I wasn’t sure how that fit into the general discussion, but I let him speak. I also was thankful for all the Corps had done for me, for the swift kick in the ass that had righted my sinking ship. I loved the Marine Corps even more now, now that I was no longer active; the Marines we’d met had been nothing but honorable, courageous men; many, like Winters, had gone to bat for us even though we were strangers. And I will always love what they had done for our country, I let him continue.
“Next week, if you can believe it, my regular enlistment is up.”
I was going to tell him I didn’t think anyone would consider him a deserter at this point he was without a unit and, on the road with civvies; although, he had been with Sanders.
“The major is, was, like a father to me, and I would have re-upped just to make him proud. But with Brooke depending on me, I want something different. I would like to try and have a family, a home; not go traipsing all over the world like I’ve seen the major do. It might be a pipe dream, but I would like to shoot for a normal life–if such a thing even exists anymore.”
“Or ever did,” I added. I had no idea where he was going with this.
“True.” He smiled. “What I’m trying to say is that, if they find out I was in the Marines and have experience in demolition, there’s a very good chance that whatever military people are there are going to want me to stay in.” He looked directly at me. “What kind of life are you hoping for there?”
Then it dawned on me. “The same. The very same as you. I want my kids to have a chance, to live, love, and grow. I don’t want to keep fighting the rest of my life. Your secret is safe with me.”
“And you mean no one there harm?” he asked. I guess it was a fair question.
“I do not,” I told him sincerely.
“Then your secret is safe with me, sir.”
“Then we’re even. And you might want to drop the sir, that’s a dead giveaway you were a soldier. And quit shaving.”
15
Mike Journal Entry 15
I don’t know why the fates had eased up on us as we traveled closer to our destination. I could not get the feeling out of my head that they were storing everything up for one final blowback. The next day and a half were wholly unremarkable, which, in itself, made them extremely remarkable. It seemed we had hit the sweet spot for all things fiend but they were on vacation, taking some time from all their monster duties.
“The Pacific Ocean. We’ve almost made it,” I said to Tracy as we looked upon the sparkling jewel. I wanted to shout in joyful triumph, but we hadn’t quite won. Maybe there were two outs in our game seven of the World Series and we were up by a run, but that didn’t mean it was a done deal. I’d been a Red Sox fan long enough to know that. I’d celebrate. I’d celebrate hard when we made it to the other side. To do so early was foolhardy, it tempted fate, spurred the enemy on, and made any defeat that much more crushing. If you think you’ve already won, you let your guard down. You allow room for disaster, and opportunists will use that to their advantage. It is much more difficult to rebound, to re-obtain what you assumed was yours–it’s like that smug receiver that believes he has caught the winning touchdown. He looks, for a fraction of a second at the camera, takes his eyes off the prize just long enough to then see the ball glance off his fingertips and out of bounds. Lots of mixed sports references here, but games are extremely applicable to life. We were first and goal to our goal, but that was still a Hail Mary from safe at home, or a touchdown.
We stood at the scenic pull out as a group, taking it all in, in silence, each of us lost in thought. Then Henry took a shit. There we were, peering into the endless horizon, trying to figure out what was going to happen, what could happen. Then Henry took center stage, dropped his haunches and let loose something looked like he’d been building since Iowa. Laughter, sweet laughter rang out from nearly all of us. Henry, after taking care of business, turned to admire his creation then scraped the earth a few times with his hind legs in a vain attempt to hide it.
“Going to need a backhoe to bury that, buddy,” I said to him as I crouched down. He came over and got his obligatory head scratch. “Well, I guess that’s his way of getting us moving.” The breeze was coming off the ocean and bringing with it Henry’s odiferous offering.
“Getting late. Do we maybe wait?” BT asked. He was nervous, we all were. Confrontations were one thing, you dealt with them as they came, but forcing one was more difficult.
I was almost of a mind to stall. Find a picturesque place on the beach and enjoy what could be our last night on the planet. I would have, too, if not for Riley. While we were all facing west, and taking in the incredible sunset view, she was facing east, looking towards a small mountain ridge. The fur on her nape was sticking up; she wasn’t growling, exactly, but something in her, something instinctual, had her hackles raised. I had a good idea of what it was and that was confirmed when Tommy turned as well, a questioning look on his face. We locked glances for a moment, and in that millisecond, we knew. She was out there, maybe watching remotely, or just maybe close enough to be of concern. I didn’t say anything; I wanted our exit to be as normal as could be. The less she knew we knew, the better; I didn’t want to give her any reason to be suspicious of our activities.
We were twenty miles from our objective, heading up the Oregon Coast Highway–easily one of the most beautiful roads I’d ever had the pleasure of being on. Would have loved to stop, snap ten thousand pictures, ooh and aah at every magnificent site, maybe get some fried clams–the strips, not the bellies. That’s just gross. But we weren’t tourists, we were refugees, and it was sanctuary we sought. We wanted to lay our own trap, and not of the tourist type.
“Traffic’s getting thicker,” Tracy said.
Honestly, I hadn’t even noticed it. I was checking my six constantly, making sure our small convoy wasn’t being followed and that everyone was on course. And when I wasn’t looking in the rearview mirror, I was looking past Tracy to the rolling hills to our right, wondering when she was going to show herself. I could feel her now; she wanted me to feel her. She wanted me to be afraid, and in that, she was succeeding. Like a cold, black eel, she swam through the neurons of my mind, infecting everything in her path with her desire for revenge.
&
nbsp; “Earth to Talbot.” Tracy was about to flick me on the side of the head but I’d turned at the last moment and she nearly poked me in the eye.
“Huh?”
“Cars. There’s more of them on the road. Maybe if you actually looked ahead you could see them.”
She was right, about the cars I mean, well, and the need to look forward more I guess, too. Just twenty miles ago it was rare to see anything; occasionally there would be a vehicle on the side of the road as if it had broken down and was now long forgotten. Now both sides of the two-lane highway had cars. I was dodging continuously and traveling was slower. From what I could see up ahead, it was only getting thicker. Deneaux flashed her lights to signify she wanted me to stop. She pulled up alongside.
“This could be problematic,” she said, referring to the cars. It wasn’t snow, but it might as well be. Inaccessible was inaccessible, any way you looked at it. “Must have been some sort of evacuation route. Whatever struck here, it was quick,” she said.
“And how would you know that?” Might have been a hint of peevish in there, only because we were making our bed and I really wanted to lie in it, but now we might have to deal with a serious case of bed bugs before we could get between the sheets. Well, that and it was Deneaux, our not-that-necessary evil.
She didn’t say anything for a moment, then pursed her lips. “You haven’t noticed? He hasn’t noticed?” she asked again looking past me and to Tracy.
“I don’t think so,” she replied.
“What did we miss?”
Deneaux pointed to the car slightly ahead and to my left. There was a zombie peering through the rear windshield. When it had been human he had been around eight-years old. What was left of his parents looked to be scattered all over the dashboard, and I would imagine, strewn throughout the entire car.
“Lately, more cars than not have had zombies in them,” she said.